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I preferred the peace and relative quiet of Midnight Mass. For the most part, it was the same crowd every night of the week, and the worst thing I had to worry about was a fight over a football game. Or a Lamborghini exploding in the fucking parking lot.

“Damn, bro, at least look like you’re in a building filled with tits and ass.”

Terry appeared beside me with a smile on his face, laughing when I glared at him. “Put that look away. You know it doesn’t work on me.”

That only made me glare harder at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be handling business security?” I growled the question at him but kept my gaze focused on every person who went from the main room to the smaller dance floors.

“Newsflash, Jasper. You are the business, and your security is my top priority. Everything else is taken care of. I promise.”

I nodded because there was no fucking question that Terry was on top of his assigned tasks. He was always loyal and reliable, and now that he was family, it all mattered even more to him.

“I know,” I growled at him. “Just don’t enjoy the tits and ass too much.”

Terry laughed. “Kat told me to take it all in because she promised to wait up for me tonight.”

“Goddammit, Terry.”

“You asked for that,” he shot back. “I’ll be close, but not too close.”

I nodded and made my way to the red bar, which was just a smaller room with a red light and nothing but top -shelf booze. Bikers, old-timers, and serious drinkers preferred the distant thud of the music, probably because it made them feel like they were a part of things without actually having to be a part of the party atmosphere.

My lips curled into a smile when I found Addison Beck sitting at the corner of the bar, a double shot in front of her, a cool mug of beer just behind it. I strolled over to where she was bent over her drink, shoulders slumped in disappointment. “Spying on me or drinking on the job?”

She gasped and looked up as if surprised to see me. “This is a bar, and I’m doing what people do at a bar. I’m enjoying a beer.”

“Looks more like you’re drowning your sorrows.”

“Like you give a damn,” she scoffed and picked up the shot glass, knocking it back with the proficiency of a sorority girl. “Your mind games won’t work on me, Jasper.”

I took the seat beside her and ordered a glass of Velvet Fire. “Mind games? I’m just a concerned proprietor, making sure my customers don’t drink past their limit.”

Beck let out a loud bark of laughter. “Suddenly, you’re just the regular neighborhood businessman?”

“There’s nothing regular about me, Addison.” I leaned in and smiled at her, and my smile grew as her blue eyes glazed over with heat.

“Addison? That’s Agent Beck to you.”

“You’re off duty, remember?” I turned to the bartender and pointed at Beck’s empty glass. “Another shot for my friend here.”

“Friends,” she snorted and turned on the barstool to face me. “Is that what we are, friends? And I thought we were adversaries.”

“You’re a cop, Addison, that’s your default position. Friends or enemies. Black or white. Up or down.” I took a sip of whiskey and set my gaze on Addison, really taking her in, not just as a person or a federal agent, but as a woman. She was pretty in a plain, girl next door sort of way. Even off-duty, she wore those ugly-ass boxy suits, but if you looked closer, you could see a nice set of C-cups under the plain white shirt, fit legs under the ill-fitting black slacks. She wasn’t my type, but she could be if it helped achieve my goals.

“The world I live in isn’t so binary.”

She shrugged and downed the shot set in front of her. “That’s what criminals always say. It’s how you justify doing bad things.”

“I never need to justify my actions. I do what needs to be done to achieve my goals. Same as you.”

“Not exactly the same,” she shot back, cynical and amused.

“The only difference is you believe what you’re doing is good simply because the law says it is. There are many instances throughout our history where the right thing, endorsed by the government, wasn’t good at all.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll give you that good and legal aren’t always the same thing, but your family is unequivocally illegal.”

“Then why the fuck do we send money to the IRS for our casinos, restaurants, gun shops, and all the other businesses registered to us? Pretty sure you can’t pay taxes on illegal business, Agent Beck.” I smacked my lips together and shook my head, leaning in just a little closer.

“That’s the part I don’t get. You all make a ton of money with all those legitimate businesses, so why not just let the illegal businesses go?” She downed a few more gulps of beer and turned to face the bar.

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