I pulled her close, kissing her slow, savoring the taste of her, and we stumbled to the bed, collapsing in a tangle of limbs, the night wrapping around us like a shield. For a moment, I believed we could face Marshall, Department 77, anything, as long as she was with me.
Sloane’s breath evened out, her body soft against mine, and I let myself drift, knowing morning would bring a fight, but tonight, she was all that mattered.
27
SLOANE
The sun broke over Charleston—gold bleeding through mist, casting long, reverent shadows across cobblestone streets still slick from the night.
I slipped from Charlie’s bed while he still slept, the curve of his arm stretched across where I’d been. I watched him for a moment—the man I once might have dismissed with a smirk and a sip of champagne. And now? He was my anchor.
I showered quietly in the same glass-walled space where we’d made love just hours earlier, steam curling around me like a memory I didn’t want to lose. My fingers trailed the tile he’d braced me against, the water hotter than I needed, but not as hot as last night.
Fresh clothes waited for me on the counter—leggings, a soft tee, even a sports bra in my size. Isabel, Ryker’s fiancée, had left them folded neatly beside a new toothbrush and a handful of toiletries, right down to the comb and detangler.
Thoughtful. Precise. A silent offering.
I hadn’t met any of the fiancées yet, but I felt them here. In the details. In the welcome they extended without words. A kindof quiet solidarity, like they knew what it meant to be drawn into this world and stay anyway.
Downstairs, the brothers were already at the table in the ops room, a map of the city spread across the surface like a battlefield blueprint. Coffee steamed. Guns gleamed. Tension hummed.
They barely looked up when I entered—just a nod from Ryker, a grunt from Atlas, Elias’s eyes flicking to mine with that sharp, calculating gleam. Marcus offered a crooked grin, of course. “Morning, Princess Carnage.”
I didn’t rise to the bait. Just poured my coffee, black now—no cream, no sugar. Another habit that had fallen away like the rest of the old me.
By the time I was ready to leave Dominion Hall, Charlie met me near the front door. Dressed in black, jaw tight. A man on the edge of war. “You sure about this?”
“No,” I admitted, slipping on my sweater. “But I’m doing it anyway.”
His jaw flexed. “You could call them. Safer.”
I looked up at him, heart hammering, throat thick. “If this is goodbye ... it doesn’t happen over the phone.”
Silence stretched between us. Then he exhaled through his nose, jaw clenching. “One of my guys will go with you. Keep eyes on. You don’t argue that.”
“I don’t plan to.”
He kissed me like a man starved for time. Like this might be the last kiss we got. Maybe it was.
Juneberry cafe sat tucked beneath a row of live oaks on Broad Street, its white awning fluttering in the breeze like a signal flag. I chose it because it was public, open-air, near the police station. Safe.
Safe-ish.
I arrived early, stepping out of my Uber then waiting outside the wrought iron gate that bordered the terrace. The hostess smiled. “Good morning!”
And for the first time, I smiled back. “It is.” Then I added, quietly, “Thank you for being here so early.”
Her eyebrows lifted, like she didn’t expect that. Neither did I. But something in me had changed.
It showed again when I passed a pair of street cleaners in orange vests dragging trash bins along the curb. “Good morning,” I said. “Thank you for keeping our city beautiful.”
They stared like I was from another planet. I didn’t blame them. A month ago, I would’ve stepped over them without a glance. Now? I saw them. All of them.
Marshall had said I was leverage. That I was a piece on the board. But maybe I could be more than that. Maybe I already was.
My parents arrived ten minutes late.
Daddy first—still towering, silver-haired and scowling, dressed like he was headed to court even though he was a real estate investor, not an attorney. Momma followed, draped in blush silk, oversized sunglasses shielding her expression, though I could feel the tremor in her presence.
