"Hudson!"
Adrian's voice thundered through the room, making me flinch. His face was a mask of cold fury as he stalked toward his head of security.
"Sir?" Hudson maintained his professional demeanor, but I could see beads of sweat forming on his brow.
"You're telling me that the security cameras in my home—where my son lives—have been broken for weeks, and nobody thought to inform me?" Adrian's voice was deadly quiet now, which somehow felt more terrifying than his shouting.
"Sir, I—" Hudson began.
"When was the last time you personally reviewed the security footage in this house?" Adrian cut him off.
Hudson swallowed. "Three weeks ago, sir."
"Three. Weeks." Adrian's jaw tightened. "And in those three weeks, you didn't notice that an entire section of my home was unmonitored?"
"The maintenance request was submitted, sir. I assumed—"