The driver drove him quietly without glancing at him. He had a lot of questions that were bugging him, but he kept them to himself to avoid suspicion. Over the years of stealing identities, he discovered that asking a lot of questions always led to trouble.
Finally, the limousine stopped, forcing him to open his window and take a peak. He smiled as he noticed a massive glass-storey structure with a familiar logo. He had earlier thought he was being driven to a stall or drug house. He wondered why such a building was not all over Richard Pickford's portfolio.
"We are here, sir, should I wait for you?"
"Yes, I will not take long," he replied and got out of the car.
He buttoned his jacket and walked into the building. He was impressed, just like the mansion, it was spotlessly clean.
However, the second he walked in, a woman who appeared to be in her forties ran toward him, almost tumbling to the floor.
