Suits Harvey Specter Apartment Novels & Stories

"I...I'm moving out," Sebastian gulps, "With Eden, you mean?" Harvey nods, "We purchased a penthouse in the city centre," he explains, "It's not far from home." "It's close to your new office?" asks Sebastian. "Yeah, it's only a five minutes walk," Harvey smiles, "It's also near Leo's school." "I see," Sebastian sighs and looks through the window. He stays silent for a moment, making Harvey more nervous as he doesn't know what he thinks about his decision.

Finally, Peter arrives and I follow him out to a waiting black SUV. I’m surprised we’re going deeper into the city, then into the parking garage for the John Hancock building. Disappointment hits me sharply as I remember him talking about the apartments his brothers brought their women to rather than bringing them home. He never said he had one—I should have known. Of course he had one. I follow Peter into the elevator. It stops on the seventy-eighth floor. I’m hesitant to follow him out. Holy crap, there are only six doors on the floor. That means the apartment will be huge.

" She said while we laughed. We sat down together, and the clatter of cutlery and bursts of laughter filled the small room. It felt good to just sit and be family for a while. No power suits or fake smiles. "Actually," I said after a few bites, "I've finalized the housing deal I mentioned last month." Mum looked up. "Which one?" I smiled. "For you and Aunty Harriet. I've secured a two-bedroom apartment for both of you in Lincoln Park 2550 - one of the best estates in Chicago. Very quiet, and classy. The apartment overlooks the lake." Auntie Harriet dropped her spoon, her hands trembling. "Are you being real?"

I didn’t want to hear the Joker name. “Sergeant Harvey,” he called him by his name, placing both hands into pocket, a clear gesture of defying his status. “We cannot touch her properties because—“ he paused. The heat in my body doubled. The air thickened with suspense. I was eager to hear the words come out of his mouth. “She’s the owner of this apartment.” I watched at once as both their lips and jaw went down. Motion ceased. They stood like statues gawking at someone.

"Unless you want to walk away. Pretend last night didn't happen. Go back to ignoring me." Harvey's eyes flash. "No." "Then we talk to them today. All four of us." He's quiet again, processing. Then he sits up, the sheets falling away to reveal his lean, muscled torso. "I need to go," he says, already reaching for his clothes scattered across my bedroom floor. "Get home before they notice I didn't come back last night." "Do you live with them?" "Penthouse. We share it." He pulls on his pants, his movements efficient. "Has its advantages for business. Less advantageous when you're sneaking around with the woman they're both dating."

Harvey sighed and picked up his briefcase, then left the room. “Hey, has she woken up? How's she?" Candy, who was just walking toward Rivera's room, hurried toward Harvey and glanced at the door. Harvey's face became calm. “She needs rest and support." He spoke calmly and left. Soon, Harvey arrived at the familiar modern building. He handed his briefcase to a guard and walked straight into Vespertine's office. Vespertine was on a call. Harvey sat on one of the sofas and scrolled through his phone until Vespertine lowered it.

Every time he thought of a day when she would no longer run around in the castle, his heart tightened and it became difficult to breathe. - There's blood in my room. If you want to drink, come in and get it. - Harvey gave Samson his room key and left. As the elevator doors opened, Aurora stepped out with a smile so bright that Harvey was stunned because he didn't expect her to arrive so soon. - Good morning Harvey. Do you feel happy when suddenly there are many people in the house? – Aurora teased. - Apartment 309. He pointed his thumb back to his back and then took her hand and pulled her aside to make room for him to enter.

The address Jessica provided wasn't a warehouse in Red Hook. That had been misdirection in case I showed the letter to authorities. The real location came via text at 8:45 AM: "Change of plans. Penthouse suite, 432 Park Avenue. Top floor. Come alone. The doorman is expecting you." 432 Park Avenue. One of the most expensive residential buildings in Manhattan. Luxury apartments with panoramic city views. Security cameras everywhere. The last place I expected for a confrontation with a fugitive.

Abigail answered, "Yes. What's the matter?" The locksmith responded, "You're aware of what's going on and yet you asked me? Harvey changed the lock of this apartment. He told everyone around here that this apartment belongs to him from now on. And if anyone dares to open the lock of his property, he'll not spare them. I don't want to get involved with that scoundrel. Moreover, no one here wants you to come back. You should go as far as possible and don't come back here to embarrass yourself."

Probably because I looked like I was dressed for a nightclub at noon on a Saturday. "Can I help you?" he asked, his tone suggesting he very much did not want to help me and was already planning how to escort me out. "Suite 3000," I said, keeping my voice confident even though I felt anything but. He raised an eyebrow but picked up a phone. After a brief, quiet conversation where he kept glancing at me like I might steal something, he nodded toward the elevators. "Mr. Specter is expecting you. Top floor." Of course he was.