William doesn’t look up, but his hand lifts in silent acknowledgment. A Beta, based on his neutral scent. Focused to the point of tunnel vision.
“He doesn’t talk much,” Rowan adds as Ghost slides a coffee mug next to William’s laptop.
Movement catches my eye as someone slips through the side entrance. A slender man with pale hair slinks toward the booth next to where Reef and Kain sit, his hips swaying with every step. He slides into the seat with theatrical grace, arranging himself so his long legs stretch into the walkway, forcing others to step around them.
“That’s Angel,” Rowan says with a note of exasperated fondness. “He handles our more... delicate client relations.”
Angel catches my stare and flashes a smile promising nothing but trouble. “So this is your new pet project, Rowan?” His pink tongue sweeps out to lick his bottom lip. “He’s prettier than expected.”
I bristle at the words. “I’m not a project.”
“No,” Angel purrs. “You’re much more interesting than that.”
Before I can respond, two more people approach from the back hallway. A tall woman with box braids pulled into an elaborate updo walks beside a man whose muscled frame strains his button-down shirt. They move together with the rhythm of two people who have worked together for years.
“Mara,” Rowan introduces, gesturing to the woman. “She helps Ghost with the bar. And Jackson handles our books.”
They acknowledge me before returning to their conversation, heads bent together over Mara’s phone. They position themselves at an angle that keeps most of the room in view while they speak.
In fact, everyone in the room maintains a similar awareness of space, exits, and each other. They function like parts of a well-oiled machine rather than employees waiting for orders.
“So, this is your crew,” I murmur to Rowan.
“Family,” he corrects. “They’re family.”
The word rings through my bones. Family. I’ve never had that beyond Lena. Never allowed myself to want it with anyone else.
These people aren’t employees serving drinks and checking IDs. They’re a network, connected by bonds stronger than paychecks. The way they move around each other speaks of trust built through shared secrets and risks.
“What exactly does this family do?” I ask, keeping the question quiet.
Rowan’s hand settles at the small of my back again, warm and steady through the fabric of my shirt.
For a moment, he watches the room instead of answering. Kain murmurs to Reef over the glow of the tablet. Silas laughs at something Angel says fromthe booth. Vail and Luca stand with Saint, talking while Ghost continues pouring drinks no one has ordered.
Rowan leans closer.
“The Blue Note is a lounge,” he says. “But that’s just the front door.”
I arch a brow. “So I saw earlier. But what are the back rooms for?”
His fingers trace slow circles on my spine.
“For people who need problems solved quietly,” he replies. “Security issues. Missing property. Information that’s difficult to obtain through legal channels. Sometimes, situations that require discretion.”
I stare at him.
“You run a criminal organization.”
Rowan chuckles under his breath.
“I run aservice,” he corrects. “The difference depends on who’s asking.”
I study the room again, reassessing what I’m seeing.
Reef is fixed on the game he’s playing. Silas is now lounging on the table beside Angel, both Omegas watching the room with casual confidence.
It hits me then how many Omegas are here.
