[Noah's POV]
The whiskey burned going down, but not nearly as much as tons of files staring back at me on my desk.
I leaned back in my leather chair, the ice in my glass clinking softly as I swirled the remaining amber liquid.
It was past midnight. The office was quiet except for the low hum of the city beyond my floor-to-ceiling windows. Most of my legitimate empire was asleep. The illegitimate parts that kept my grand father's legacy alive whether I wanted them or not—never truly rested.
Caleb stood across from me, hands clasped behind his back, expression as unreadable as ever.
"The painting?" I asked.
"Completed," Caleb replied. "She accidentally ruined the first one during the phone call with her friend. Redid the entire piece in one day. Clean work. Professional quality."
I no
