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Author's Note: SURPRISE! HELLO! WE'RE BACK BITCHES. This break was so needed and gave us the opportunity to sit with our story, fill in potential plot holes for the rest of the book, and completely plan out what is coming in the future. Thank you for being patient.

We had multiple 7 hour long planning sessions during the break where most of our attention was just on planning, and not so much the writing. So, while the story won't be published in full like we had expected, we're back sooner than we originally planned, and with a clearer vision for what the rest of this story will look like, and clearer, more frequent updates.

We missed you! Above is a fun little trailer [one of probably twelve that are sitting in the vault] so feel free to give it a watch.

Also, in case you aren't already, follow us on Twitter for updates/to interact with us. @hardcandysty1es 

Without further adieu...

♠♠♠

Harry's P.O.V.

"You can imagine that we're in quite the... predicament," my father's voice carries through the office as I sit across from him, in the position I've been in far too many times.

Days have passed since the robbery and the conversation I've been anticipating since I walked into the Green Light that night.

It still feels weird to be back here... back in this house after everything that happened the night of the merger announcement.

"Was anything found by the security team?" I ask, partially knowing the answer, my hand shoved deep into my pocket already grasping at the poker chip in anticipation. A smile threatens to spread across my lips at the memory of the poker chip in Jo's bed, but I force down the notion as I feel my father's gaze.

He looks at me with a haunting gaze across the large wooden desk, a cigar resting between his fingers. At least his current reaction is better than it was the other night. I nearly flinch at the memory of his fist connecting to the side of my face in anger when he arrived at the casino that night. I've seen him angry more than most people, but very few things top the utter rage I witnessed that night. His rage seemed to move far beyond what had occurred. The way he spoke, with disdain dripping from his mouth, seemed to be directed elsewhere, as if the robbery signified something more to him, a different kind of loss that I can't quite put my finger on.

"Nothing," he says, gritting his teeth, "They found nothing," his eyes fixate firmly on mine.

Whoever it was, was masked and fast. They knew exactly where to go and what to do to avoid certain security precautions. Nothing about this has felt right from the moment it happened. Of course there are certain concerns that come with this type of lifestyle but for the most part, we've rarely had situations like this occur. Jo's house, my penthouse, the Green Light all in one night is nothing short of a warning... a threat. The one thing I haven't been able to stop thinking about is the flashdrive. Who would've known about it, and how would they know Jo would be the one to have it?

For a moment there's one person and one person only who comes to mind. It's almost as if at their arrival things started seriously going south, and there's little to nothing I can do about it. At least for now. My stomach churns at the thought, the internal feeling, that this wouldn't be the last of situations like this. Whoever did this was trying to send a message.

"What I do know, is that there is ground to be made. We weren't even close to acquiring everything we needed for New York and now we're behind," he says in a succinct, short, voice, pulling me out of my thoughts.

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