As Ro and Millie pull me toward the back, I glance over my shoulder at Sin. He’s watching me, those mismatched eyes intense and possessive.
And something shifts inside me.
This isn’t just physical anymore.
This isn’t just attraction, or desire, or even the heat of the moment.
I’m falling for him.
The realization hits me like a freight train, stealing my breath. I’m falling for Sin, the president of the Las Vegas Defiance MC.
The man I was sent to destroy.
And I don’t even know anything about him, really. I don’t even know his real fucking name!
Panic comes next, swift and overwhelming. What happens when they find out I’m a cop? When they discover I’ve been lying this entire time? When they realize I’m Marcus’ sister, and that I’ve been using them to get answers about my brother?
But then Sin looks at me from across the room, really looks at me, and the panic fades.
Not because the danger isn’t real.
Not because the fallout won’t be devastating.
But because in this moment, I know the truth.
I’m not protecting the department anymore.
I’m protecting the club.
I’m protectinghim.
Whatever comes, I’ll face it. And I’ll do everything in my power to bring down Captain Rourke and the Hidden Hand Alliance.
Not as an undercover cop.
Not for the department that failed my brother.
But for Marcus.
For the club that’s been fighting for him all along.
And for myself, whoever I am now, caught between two identities, but finally knowing where my loyalty lies.
Withthem.
Withhim.
Even if it destroys me in the end.
Chapter Twenty-Four
SIN
After leaving Elizabeth with Ro and the girls, the Chapel smells like coffee and leather when I push through the door. Ghost is already here, hunched over his laptop with a toothpick between his teeth. Nitro sprawls in one of the chairs, looking like he hasn’t slept, and Bear sits at the table, his massive frame making the chair look like a damn child’s toy.
“Morning, Pres,” Ghost says without looking up. “Got some intel on the Alliance movements. They’ve been quiet since New Year’s. Too quiet.”
I drop into my chair at the head of the table, pulling out my poker chip, letting it move between my fingers. “What kind of quiet?”
