That's where she's wrong. I've spent years managing alone because trusting the wrong person gets people killed.
But there's a difference between operational security and isolation that creates vulnerability to exactly what's happening. Someone exploiting the fact that we can't afford scrutiny. Using our need for privacy as a weapon.
"Want to know what I'm protecting?" I step aside, giving her clear access to the entrance. "Come inside. What you see stays between us until you understand what it really is and why it matters."
She studies me for a long moment, weighing the offer against professional protocol and personal risk. Federal agents don't usually accept invitations from suspects to enter private buildings without backup or witnesses.
But Shelby Monroe spent years undercover learning to read situations and make judgment calls that kept her alive.
She walks past me through the entrance.
I lock the door behind us and lead her through the short hallway into the main floor space. The security lighting casts everything in shadow and silver, making the equipment look more ominous than it actually is.
Monroe stops just inside the doorway, taking in the St. Andrew's cross, the suspension rigging, the padded furniture and impact implements arranged along the far wall. Her expression doesn't shift to judgment or shock. Instead, she scans the space with the same professional assessment she used in themotorcycle shop, cataloging details and processing what they mean.
"Private BDSM club," she says after a moment. "Consenting adults, legal operations, established by people who understand proper safety protocols." She moves closer to the cross, studying the message still visible in the photograph the intruder left behind. "Someone threatened to expose this during your federal investigation. Make it look criminal when it's not."
"Will and his late wife Sarah established The Forge years ago, before she died from cancer. Now Will and Gemma run day-to-day operations." I gesture to the stairs leading up. "Safe space for people in the lifestyle, veterans dealing with PTSD who need structured ways to process control and surrender, couples exploring dynamics they can't risk in civilian life. Private rooms on the lower level, each with safety equipment and emergency releases. Membership contracts, negotiation protocols, mandatory education on consent and safety."
"Show me the documentation."
I lead her upstairs to the office and pull up the files. Membership contracts with explicit consent forms, safety training records, incident reports showing proper handling of any issues, medical releases, background checks. Everything that proves this is legitimate operation run by people who take responsibility seriously.
Monroe reads through the documentation with the focus of someone who knows what to look for. She asks careful questions about protocols, emergency procedures, how consent is verified and maintained. Professional inquiries, not judgmental interrogation.
When she finishes, she closes the last file and turns to face me. "I know what this is. I've seen actual criminal operations—trafficking, coercion, exploitation. This isn't it." She pauses."This is people who understand power dynamics and use them responsibly."
She understands the difference. That removes one variable from the tactical equation.
"The threat to expose this during your investigation was designed to force us to stop cooperating with ATF," I say. "Someone knows that if The Forge becomes public while you're investigating weapons trafficking, it'll look connected even though it's not. Destroy our legitimacy, paint us as criminals, make everything we've built collapse."
"Someone with military training." She's already making the connections. "The breach showed tactical movement, operator-level skills. This isn't random intimidation."
"No. I've been digging into background chatter in veteran networks. Found a name that keeps coming up—Alan Kline, or someone using that identity. Supposed Special Forces background, dishonorable discharge, but I can't verify if any of it's real or just cover."
"Alan Kline." She says the name like she's testing it. "I've been building a file on someone who might be using that name. Former Special Forces background—or claims to have one. Dishonorable discharge that may or may not be legitimate. Dropped off the grid. He's a ghost in my investigation—I know someone with this training signature is connected to the modifications, but I haven't been able to confirm identity or place them anywhere specific. The name keeps appearing, but so do three others. Could be one person using multiple aliases. Could be a cell of operators. I don't have enough to be certain."
"You've heard the same rumors."
"I've been tracking modification signatures for months that point to someone with advanced military training." Her expression hardens. "The weapons moving through the gun show circuit bear technical signatures that require specializedknowledge. Whether it's Kline, one of the other names I'm tracking, or someone else entirely using these identities as cover—I just hadn't connected any of it to Anchor Bay until the ghost orders pointed to your shop."
"Whoever's behind this is using our legitimate business as cover, threatening The Forge as leverage to stop us from investigating how they compromised our systems." I lean against the desk. "Which means we're running out of time before they escalate further."
Monroe's quiet for a moment, processing. Then she asks the question I've been waiting for. "What's your involvement here? In The Forge. What do you do?"
The air shifts between us. Not investigator questioning suspect, but something more personal. She's not asking for the case file. She's asking about who I actually am underneath the VP authority and Delta Force training.
I could deflect. Could maintain the boundaries and keep the darkest parts of myself locked away where they don't complicate things.
Or I could give her the truth and see if she's strong enough to handle it.
"I scene here when I find someone who can handle it," I say, holding her gaze. "Everywhere else requires maintaining control—the VP role, managing operations, protecting Brothers, making tactical decisions. Out there, I keep the darker parts locked down. In here, I don't have to." I pause. "The Forge is one of the few places I can let that part out safely. But finding partners strong enough to handle what I need is rare."
"But you can't let go."
"No. That's just how it is." I pause. "When I do scene, it's not gentle. It's not about soft dominance or careful negotiation that leaves everyone comfortable. It's about taking complete control,pushing limits, demanding absolute surrender from someone strong enough to give it."
Her breathing changes slightly. Not fear. Recognition.
