"That was wise," Dante said mildly.
April had the distinct impression she'd just learned something about Don Dante that she'd be better off not thinking about too hard.
Caleb slid the folder closer.
April looked around the table. Eight men were watching her with expressions ranging from nervous to serious.
She set the book aside and opened the folder, half-expecting an NDA with a sympathetic severance clause.
"What is this?" she asked.
Killian took a breath, and his voice went corporate. His eyes didn’t.
"After you fell asleep," he said, "we talked."
"We don't want you to choose," Liam said, his voice careful. "We want you to… keep all of us. As a collective."
"You want to—" April's brain stalled. The words currently bouncing around her skull like a screensaver. "What?"
"To stay," Arthur said, cutting through the fluff.
"We've discussed the logistics," Dante added, leaning back as if he’d closed a deal. "Traditional arrangements weren’t built to scale. We’ve opted for something more bespoke."
April stared at them, looking around the room waiting for someone—anyone—to speak up and admit this was crazy, that it was a prank.
She waited for the mask to slip. For Jax to reveal a hidden camera. For Jiro to start laughing. Her brain was currently convinced the universe was one giant, recurring April Fool’s loop.
But nobody moved. There was no “Gotcha.” She looked at Jax, Mateo, and Jiro, but they weren't laughing. They all nodded, their expressions varying from determination to a terrifyingly soft hope.
Caleb brushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “Just… keep the set.”
A lifetime subscription to a deluxe, eight-man box set, and the paperwork is literally at my fingers.
April picked up the document with shaking hands and started to read.
AGREEMENT OF MUTUAL DEVOTION AND COORDINATED CHAOS
Her eyes flicked down.
There were appendices.
April looked up slowly. "You're all insane."
“If you want new terms we can adjust it,” Jiro offered.
Jax cut in, "I verified none of us have active warrants."
Everyone turned to look at Don Dante.
Dante raised his espresso cup slightly. "Technically accurate."
"Technically?" Liam said.
"Moving on," Killian said.
Mateo covered his mouth like he was trying not to laugh.
Jiro watched her like he was waiting to see if she'd bolt.
