“Serafina?” Ben asks.
“This is Serafina’s phone. You’re speaking with her mother.”
Ben clears his throat. I can imagine him loosening his tie and leaning back in his chair, nervous. “I’ve been trying to reach her.”
“Serafina is safe. She won’t be working for you again, Ben.”
“Excuse me?” His voice goes up an octave. “Apparently, you’re unaware of the contract she signed with me, Mrs. Scala . . .”
“I don’t give a shit about the contract,” Belle says. “In fact, if you keep harassing my daughter, I’ll send legal counsel to Arkansas to explain exactly what you can do with that piece of paper. Am I making myself abundantly clear,Mr. Matthews?”
I cover my mouth with both hands, stifling a laugh and in complete shock. I’ve never heard anyone talk to Ben that way. Sure, I’ve called him an asshole on occasion, but he has so much money and influence, he always gets his way.
There’s a long, awkward pause.
“Have I been disrespectful, Mrs. Scala?”
“Yes,” Belle answers. “You tricked my daughter into becoming a stripper, you piece of shit. That qualifies as disrespect and so much more.”
She knows about it? Eagle must have told her. That’s why Mama Belle will always have the right to lead the old ladies. As Eagle’s wife, the honor falls to me, but I would never cheat Belle out of her role.
She gazes at me and grins.
I mouth the words thank you and she nods.
“Wherever Serafina is, will you please tell her I called? I have a paycheck for her.”
“Serafina doesn’t need your money, Mr. Matthews. Perhaps you should use that as part of your retainer for your defense attorney.”
“Defense attorney?”
“If you contact my daughter again, she’ll file charges against you. I’m pretty sure the district attorney would be interested in hearing how you coerced Serafina into working for you—not to mention fraud.”
The line goes dead.
“Oh. My. God,” I say, standing up and rushing over to my newest champion. “Y-you’re wonderful.”
She shrugs and shoves my phone in my hand. “I love you, girl. That asshole won’t be bothering you again.”
I get another group hug and a second margarita for good measure.
“Drink up, Angel. We need to get started on your hair soon,” Belle says.
While I sample a plate of all the yummy treats the ladies made, Belle finishes prepping her work station to do my hair.
Five hours later, I’m standing in front of a full-length mirror admiring my blond locks and the new silver bra and panty set I received as a gift. My fingernails and toenails are freshly painted and Belle worked her magic again with makeup.
I admit, this is all so sudden. Reuniting with Eagle, the club, and the women who always welcomed me as if I was born Iron Norsemen royalty. But as Belle helps me slip into my wedding gown, I realize as long as I’m here, surrounded by the people who truly love and understand me, time doesn’t matter. It has no power over me. My love for Eagle lived on in my dreams while we were apart. So why shouldn’t I marry him tonight? Why shouldn’t I risk everything to reclaim the life I thought was over?
Why shouldn’t I stand next to the only man I’ve ever loved, who saved me, and accept him as my husband? Speak a sacred vow in front of a priest where I promise to love, honor, and obey the man who will keep me safe, father my children, and love me until the day he dies? Those traditional words aren’t for every woman. But if I want to be an old lady, if I want to embrace the life, I’m expected to do what all old ladies do—respect my man and defer to his decisions regarding our futures.
That’s the purest form of love, trusting Eagle to take care of me no matter what.
The Iron Norsemen are my family. This clubhouse is my home. Belle is my second mother. And all the women who greeted me today are my sisters.
Belle hugs me from behind as she smiles at my reflection. “See? This dress was made for you.”
I can’t hide my joy or the effects of the butterfly wings fluttering inside my belly. I’m nervous and anxious to see Eagle.
