Another day, another all nighter. Paperwork after paperwork. Calls after calls. More investigation, more clients. Issac was tired. This is the third all nights the pulled. The words were starting to blur together.

He picked up his whiskey glass as he read through another document. Upon trying to drink it, he found it was empty. “Damn it. Have to make anot—“

Before he could finish his sentence, whiskey was being poured into the cup. The housekeeper. His housekeeper.