“Because of a lot of shit,” I counter. “Elizabeth’s presence. The police investigation into the shootout. The attention from the casino incident. We’re under a microscope, brothers. Every move we make is being watched, cataloged, and judged. We can’t afford to draw more heat right now.”
“So, we just let them get away with attacking us?” Flint’s voice rises, frustration bleeding into every word. “We’re supposed to just sit here with our thumbs up our asses while the Alliance celebrates?”
“Didn’t say that.” My voice cuts through the building tension like a blade. “But we’re going to be smart about this. We wait. We watch. We plan. And when the time is right, we’ll hit them so hard they won’t know what the fuck happened.”
I pull out my poker chip, let it move through my fingers as I choose my next words carefully. “Brothers, youwillhave your revenge. And fuck me, itwillbe sweet. But patience wins wars. Recklessness gets people killed, and I didn’t build this club to watch my brothers die because we couldn’t keep our shit together long enough to play the long game.”
The chip flicks faster, a physical manifestation of the restless energy in the room. “Don’t be fooled,” I continue, meeting each man’s eyes in turn. “Wewillget our vengeance. My plan to bring the Hidden Hand Alliance and Rourke down has been relentless, and I’m not stopping now. Not when we’re this close.”
Bear speaks for the first time, his deep voice cutting through the tension, “What do you need from us, Pres?”
This.
This is why I chose Bear as our wise one when it comes to counsel. He doesn’t just question, he trusts. And when the time comes to act, he’ll be first through the door.
“Surveillance,” I say, shifting gears into strategy mode. “Ghost, I need you to monitor all Hidden Hand Alliance communications and movements. Every phone call, every text, every fucking hidden Snapchat, they send their hookers. If they so much as sneeze, I want to know about it.”
Ghost nods, his fingers already moving like he’s typing on an invisible keyboard. “On it. I’ll set up monitoring protocols tonight.”
“Koa, work with Ghost. Identify their weak points. Where they operate, who they deal with, what leverage we can use. Everyone’s got pressure points… we just need to find theirs.”
“Consider it done,” Koa says, his sergeant-at-arms instincts already cataloging targets.
“The rest of you, business as usual. We maintain appearances. No one gives the heat or anyone else a reason to look at us sideways. We’re model-fucking-citizens until the time comes to be something else…” I pause, letting that sink in. “And here’s the play… taking down Rourkewillcripple the Alliance. He’s their protection, their inside man. Without him, they’re just another gang with delusions of grandeur. We cut the head off the snake, and the body dies.”
“What about the journalist?” Mace asks, his voice gravelly. “She know about the plan?”
“She knows what she needs to,” I say carefully. “And she’s got her own reasons to want the truth exposed. We just handed her the story of a lifetime, police corruption, trafficking, murder.That makes her motivated to see this through, whether she realizes it yet or not.”
Nitro doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t argue.
Small victories.
“All right,” I say, bringing my gavel down on the table with finality. “We’ve got our marching orders. Ghost, start your surveillance. Everyone else, stay sharp. We’re playing the long game here, brothers. Trust the process. Trustme.”
“Aye,” they chorus, the sound echoing off the Chapel walls.
I watch them file out, each man carrying his piece of the plan. The weight of leadership never really lifts, it just shifts from one shoulder to the other.
An hour later, the clubhouse has returned to its normal rhythm. The tension from Church has dispersed, replaced by the usual chaos of brotherhood. Bear is discussing security rotations with Axel, despite the man’s wounded arm. Koa and Will are bent over a map, planning a run out to the McClane gold operation. Deek is stationed at the bar, telling some story that has the prospects laughing their asses off.
This is what I fight for.
Not the gold, not the reputation, not even the revenge.
This sense of family, of belonging.
Of men who’d die for each other without question.
My poker chip moves between my fingers as I scan the room, looking for Elizabeth. My stomach clenches as I catch her by the back door leading to the roof. She emerges from wherever she’s been, her hair slightly mussed, her eyes still carrying that shell-shocked look of someone whose world just got rewritten. But there’s something stronger underneath now. Understanding. Maybe even purpose.
Our eyes meet across the crowded room, and something electric passes between us. The same thing that’s been building since she first walked through our doors. Except now, somethinghas shifted. The story she came here for has evolved into something bigger, darker, and more dangerous.
I don’t think.
I just move.
She doesn’t wait for me to close the distance. She turns and heads through the back door, out toward the roof access. I follow, my boots heavy on the metal stairs, the desert night air hitting my face as I emerge onto the flat roof.
