Chapter 21

JASPER

A lthough our call was brief, I felt relieved hearing Harper's voice, even for a few minutes. Her voice alone had a way of making my heart feel complete. I didn't understand what it was about her.

My phone started to vibrate in my hand.

"Yes," I snapped.

"Sir, I have two men stationed in the front and two in the back of the building. They have all been instructed to stay discreet, and under no circumstances to contact Ms. Williams. I have informed everyone to stay back unless there is a dire threat. There will be shift changes every four hours, leaving no gaps in between until the end of the week as you instructed. If Ms. Williams leaves the building two men will follow from a distance leaving two to guard the home. You will receive a text with the names and phone numbers of the men stationed at each shift change. Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Whitlock?" Joseph, head of my security team asked.

"No, Joseph. I believe you have covered all the bases. Thank you."

Since Harper has denied the offer of a secure hotel room, where I would have had access to check up on her, I arranged to have round-the-clock security stationed around her home until her roommate returns, and maybe after.

The tone of her voice, as she vaguely described the incident, and how she expressed her fear, unleashed a wave of unease within me. I don't know what haunts her, but whoever it is, would struggle to get to her with my men around.

* * *

Harper didn't leave the house on Sunday either. She skipped work for two days and stayed hauled up in her apartment, not even bothering to open the curtains.

After Joseph called to update me that night, I decided to try to reach out to her as J.W. to see if she would talk to me.

I had already checked into her security alarm system, and she was right, that alarm system was airtight. She was safer there than anywhere else; It still bothered me that she was shaken up to have missed work all weekend.

From my conversation with Old Man Frank, I learned that this weekend was the first time she had missed work since she moved here with Aster for college.

Shutting down my computer and gathering everything for my briefcase, I heard the elevators running. Only Max and I worked today, as it was Sunday. Max had been out of the office for most of the afternoon working on Aster's file for me. It made me wonder how I'd ever manage to have a life outside of this office.

I'm always here.

I waited to see who could be in my halls when I heard the heavy steps of designer loafers just as Max rounded the corner with a shit-eating grin. He was holding a huge file under his arm. Waltzing in like he owned the place, he sat in the chair in front of my desk and propped his dirty feet up like he always did. I stared him down waiting for him to say something. Yet, there he was, maintaining that absurd smile.

Sometimes, he really gets under my skin.

"Are you going to say anything, or will I have to slap it out of you?" I asked calmly, pushing his feet to the ground causing him to lose grip on the file.

It fell to the ground with a thud. He bent down to retrieve it and tossed it in my direction, I barely caught it, making a loud smack on either side.

"That sir, is everything to know about the Jenkins family. From colleges her parents attended, to their financial statements from 2023. You know, for people who own one of the top security businesses in the US, they do nothing for personal identity protection," he nodded his head in the direction of the file, I opened it up to a picture of a familiar red-haired woman.

She looked exactly as she did when I first saw her in the lounge. When I looked up from the photo to meet Max's eyes his face was flushed. I narrowed my brows at him.

"Don't tell me you are into redheads too, is there anything you won't fuck?"

I skimmed through the file, stopping when I saw the name Prestyn Bennett.

"Only when they look like that brother. She is hot!"

"Who is Prestyn?" I asked, confused at the extra name that hadn't been mentioned in the brief call earlier today.

"I guess that's the guy Aster Jenkins is currently seeing. He's into a lot of illegal shit that he fronts with a line of dry cleaners and car washes," he smirked, proud that he was able to breach through his security systems.

I closed the file, placed it into my briefcase, and clicked off my desk lamp.

"Good work brother," I praised walking towards the door as Max followed, strolling with his hands in his pocket, he whistled a series of high pitches in no order in particular.

I knew that behavior all too well.

"Max, leave her alone. Don't do anything that's going to fuck up what I'm trying to do."

His whistling halted. "And what's that exactly?" he accusingly retorted, giving me a side-eye.

"I don't know yet," I admitted. Then I pressed the button to call the elevator.

* * *

Stepping out of the elevator into the penthouse, I walked straight to the wet bar in the corner of my living space. My mind was overwhelmed by everything with the Petrov fiasco, I needed a stiff drink. I poured a generous glass and loosened my tie. I kicked off my shoes and plopped down on the sofa.

The silence was so loud, as I took a large gulp of my scotch and listened to the ice clink against the glass, I let out a breathy sigh, grabbing my phone from my jacket pocket to pull up my emails again.

Nothing from Harper.

browsing through my call log, I contemplated calling Joseph for more information, but I stopped myself, we had just spoken two hours ago. I didn't want to be excessive. Heading to my office with my briefcase, opening it to find the file marked ‘Hot Red Head'. Chuckling to myself, I shook my head, typical Max. I don't know how I overlooked that detail before.

I pushed the file aside on my desk and booted up my laptop to sift through my emails. My cursor lingered over Harper's message thread; if she wasn't going to respond, I wouldn't risk calling her—not without a solid reason. Knowing the security team was rotating shifts to guard her at home, gave me some peace of mind about her safety, but it did little to settle the persistent impulse to check on her.

Hey there Firecracker,

I haven't heard from you in a bit. How's life treating you? There is no more need for a weirdo Knight in your life. I have been busy, so I've had to put my creeper lurking on pause. I hope you are well.

-J.W.