JJ
Marissa called while I was standing in the middle of my new shop arguing with Benny about whether a mini fridge counted as furniture or equipment.
“Legal,” I said when I saw her name.
Benny stopped trying to move the fridge three inches to the left. Nixx looked up from the cabinet he was assembling near the sterilization area, screwdriver still in his hand.
I answered. “Please tell me Havoc hasn’t found a new way to be annoying.”
“That depends on how attached you are to your tattoo equipment.”
My stomach dropped. “What?”
Marissa exhaled. “Donald’s attorney sent over a property demand this morning. He’s claiming several items you removed from the North Town shop were purchased with marital funds or money Donald contributed during the marriage.”
For a second, all I could hear was
