Page 83 of Beautiful Chaos

My meetings went quickly. Nothing too time-consuming. Max had already done most of the heavy lifting on those cases, so the briefing was more or less just an overview of what would be expected going forward, should we go to court.

I was planning to leave early, but that changed when Max walked into my office, with a tablet and a worried expression.

“What is it now asshole?” I halfheartedly sneered, looking up from my computer monitor.

“You are gonna wanna see this shit,” he said, keeping his eyes down on what he was reviewing. I got up and walked over to where he stood, he turned the screen to show a clip from one of my casino’s surveillance videos. The Basement, where the Petrov brothers did their underhanded business, was cleared out weeks ago and hasn’t been used since

There were some big brutes lurking in the dark with flashlights. Max had some top-grade security cameras installed after Malice and Havoc sent their goons over to cause trouble, the infrared lenses were handy in this situation. We hadn’t seen any signs of them until now, surprisingly.

“They look like they are looking for something,” he said, switching the sound on so we could hear what they were saying. It was useless because whatever they were saying was in another language, I recognized it as Russian.

When I was younger, some of my father’s acquaintances were Russian, one of his closest friends. He associated with that family up until my mother’s death, after that, they were no longer mentioned. I’m not sure what caused the change in their relationship.

We wouldn’t know what they said until I could get a translator to tell me, the problem is, we couldn’t have just anyone to translate in case the context was incriminating to me, my family, or my businesses. That could take some time.

We expected something to happen at some point, because after the fire at the warehouse, the bodies were unidentifiable, so no one knew Malice and Havoc didn’t make it out. I figured their goons would come snooping around for answers. The fact that they haven’t yet was disconcerting.

“I’ll get someone in to translate and hopefully we can figure out what they are after,” Max said pulling his cell from his pocket.

“Have we ever investigated Malice and Havoc or figured out exactly what they were into? Who were they connected to? What crime families they were close to, that sort of thing,” I asked.

I realized we didn’t know what we were getting ourselves into if we decided to exterminate our unwanted pest infestation.

“Not really, just the obvious. I can get started on a deep dive tonight,” he offered. Max is damn good at his job as a paralegal and legal assistant, the best in this fucking profession, he’s even better at getting the illegal shit I need.

He has always been able to uncover any information, which is truly impressive. I was surprised he didn’t have the information already, but then again, I did ask him to handle a lot while I stayed home with Harper.

“Yeah. Go ahead and make yourself useful,” I mocked, packing up my briefcase and getting ready to get home to Harper.

I opened the top drawer of my desk, grabbed a key adorned with a green ribbon, matching the hue of Harper’s eyes, and slipped it into my pocket.

Chapter 59

HARPER

Iwas Seated in my freshly redecorated office. I looked around, appreciating the excellent work of the decorator Jasper hired to convert the once-overlooked spare room, into a writer’s oasis. She did not disappoint. I’m not typically one to get excited about such things, but I must say, the room is impressive.

I met with her once, and she asked some basic questions, like my favorite color. She showed me a few room examples. The first, was a room nearly covered floor to ceiling in hot pink and fuzz. It reminded me of Aster. I’m more of an earthy tone, clean lines, natural, kind of girl. She seemed a bit bored when I chose the plainest inspiration photos.

Jasper had a few requests, a comfortable sofa where he could stretch out when I spent too much time writing. This way, he could be close to me while I worked without disturbing me. I thought that was sweet, but best believe if his hot body is in my office stretched out on the couch, there is no doubt I would want to be beside him.

I giggled to myself, I’ve grown so much. A time very recently, I wouldn’t even think of being near a man, let alone want to cuddle up next to one.

I looked to the brown leather loveseat, covered in decorative pillows, and my favorite couch blanket. Well a replica of my favorite couch blanket, one of Jasper’s requests, the original stayed on our bed now.

Our bed. Why does that sound so nice?

I told Jasper I could work in the room as it was, but he was unconvinced. He said, “A girl requires her own space to let her creativity flourish.” He wasn’t wrong, but I could have done so without spending so much money redecorating. He’s been hinting that I should move in, but I don’t know if I’m completely ready for that step.

I practically live here already, having not spent a night away from him or our bed since my discharge from the hospital. Moving in would make things so…Official.

I wish things could stay simple. Adding extra stress could potentially harm what we have. I told myself that a million times, but a part of me still worries that I might be the one to cause damage. So, I let him redecorate to buy some time from the whole moving-in conversation.

I opened the top drawer of my desk and pulled out a copy of the Miami New Times magazine, flipping to page six, where the article from the night at the plaza was printed. A large photo was displayed on nearly half a page.

Jasper and I were standing together. He, leaned in, his hand resting protectively across my waist, as I tilted my head towards him.

The article read,

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