Page 45 of The Chaos She Brings

I don’t even get it. What is it about him? Sure, he’s ridiculously good-looking, but it’s more than that. It's how he helped me on the worst night of my life, a stranger to me at the time. How every morning this week, he’s handed me a cup of coffee—even when he’s been pissed at me. And how, when things got ugly with the Russians, he didn’t hesitate to show up for me.

Oh. Right. I guess Idoknow why I like him.

Goddamn, infuriating, irresistible man.

“We’re here,” henchman number one—I’ve nicknamed him Grumpy—grunts. I tried to initiate conversation with him and henchman two—Dopey—on the journey but Grumpy just looked bored and Dopey looked like he wanted to laugh at my rambling but didn’t know how.

“Thank you, kind Sirs.” I get out the car and give them a curtsybefore turning to look at my new home for the foreseeable future.

In front of me stands a pretty unremarkable building. It looks like a typical countryside home—weathered yellowish paint, a crooked old slate roof, and hanging flower baskets under the front porch that leads up to a wooden door.

Surrounding us is what feels like miles of green space and a woodland area even further than that.

“What makes this place so safe?” I ask, looking around, half-expecting no one to answer me.

The car that followed us rolls to a stop, and four more men step out, all dressed in black, just like the ones from earlier.

“She wants to know how secure this place is,” Dopey says, a grin playing at his lips as he speaks to one of the other Men in Black.

The one I’m now callingHappylaughs, picks up a small stone from the ground, and casually tosses it onto the front porch.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then, just as the stone hits the step, a sudden, sharp sound rings out loud enough for me to need to cover my ears.

Happy grins. “That’s just one of the little touches around here. Motion sensors, infrared cameras, and a perimeter that’s tighter than a bank vault. A stone’s enough to set off half the system. If anyone other than us tried that, they’d be facing a whole lot more than just an alarm blaring.”

I glance at the porch again, now illuminated by the light, my eyes catching sight of several more sensors disguised as part of the architecture. “So... no one just walks in?”

“Not without a lot of trouble,” Happy says, his tone light, but there’s an edge to it now. “And trust me, you wouldn’t want to try it.”

Dopey chuckles behind me. "You just became a priority, sweetheart."

I stare at the stone on the porch, knowing that anyone trying to break in would be walking into a full-on security nightmare. This place isn’t just protected—it’s locked down tighter than a secret government facility.

Two of the men head inside to check the place for any security threats and once they give the all clear the rest of us headinside.

Grumpy leads the tour, gesturing to each room with a sense of pride, though his expression barely changes. While the exterior of the building looks a little rundown—weathered stone and peeling paint—the inside is a stark contrast. It’s a modern architectural dream.

The walls are a sleek, minimalistic white, accented by dark wood beams that add warmth to the open, airy space. The floors gleam with polished tile, and the entire place has been renovated with a blend of industrial chic and contemporary luxury.

The living room is open and spacious, with an oversized sofa facing a modern fireplace with a sleek black frame. There’s an enormous flat-screen TV mounted above it, though it doesn’t dominate the room. The kitchen—easily visible from the living area—has state-of-the-art appliances, the countertops made of smooth, gleaming granite.

What I’m trying to say is;Oh, she fancy.

Grumpy takes a turn, pointing out the dining area where a glass table sits beneath an abstract chandelier, the kind that looks like something pulled from a high-end design magazine. There’s even a wine cellar hidden behind a glass wall, its shelves stocked with what looks like a serious collection.Wine drunk, here I come.

I expect him to show us upstairs, but instead, Grumpy presses a hidden panel on the wall. With a softclick, a concealed door swings open, revealing a staircase that descends into the depths of the house.

“This is the panic room,” he says, his voice cool and matter of fact. “If you ever hear the alarm, you head straight here. It only opens with our fingerprints, so no one else can get in.” He lets the words hang in the air for a moment, then swiftly closes the door, sealing it without a sound.

He jerks his head towards the upstairs. “You guys have the house to yourselves. We’ll be rotating watch shifts.”

“Where do you guys stay when you’re not guarding?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, still trying to take it all in.

Grumpy doesn’t miss a beat. “There’s a second house in the garden for us.”

I blink, stunned. “How did Enzo get all this set up so quickly? Do you guys just have safe houses randomly scattered around the country?”

Grumpy stares at me like I’ve just asked if unicorns are real. “Yes.”