"Andgo where?"
"Anywhereyou want.TheFedsare looking for a fraudster.Thisfile proves you're innocent.Youwalk into the precinct, you slam this on the desk, and you walk out a free woman."
Shelooks at the key, then at me. "Andyou?"
"Istay.Ihandle theFed."
"He'llknow you forged this."
"He'llsuspect.Hecan't prove it.Andeven if he does... the club is insulated.Iburned the connections."
Shesqueezes the key so hard her hand cramps. "You'refiring me."
"I'mfreeing you,Mia.Youdidn't ask for this.Youdidn't ask to be kidnapped by a biker gang.Youdidn't ask to be hunted."
"No," she says softly. "Ididn't."
Hergaze drops to the key before shifting to the file and the ash in the bin.
"Youstayed up all night," she notes. "Youdestroyed your own safety net to build mine."
"Itwas a necessary calculation."
"Stopit!"Sheslams the key onto the desk.Thesound rings out like a gunshot. "Stoptalking like a calculator,Elias!Youdidn't do this because of math.Youdid it because..."
Shetrails off, her chest heaving.
Istep closer. "Becausewhy,Mia?"
"Becauseyou love me," she whispers.Thewords hang in the air, heavy and terrifying.
Idon't flinch.Idon't retreat. "Yes.Ilove you,"Isay again, testing the weight of it. "Ilove the way you count.Ilove the way you chew your pens.Ilove that you aren't afraid of the dark, only of being wrong.Ilove you,Mia.Andthat's why you need to take that key and go."
Shestares at me.Silencestretches between us, thick with dust and pine and the smell of burnt paper.Then, slowly, she reaches for the key.Mypulse stalls, then kicks back into a heavy rhythm.
Shepicks it up and drops it into her own pocket.
"I'mkeeping the key," she says, her voice steady.
Ilet out a breathIdidn't knowIwas holding. "Good."
"ButI'mnot leaving."
Mybrow furrows. "Mia?—"
"No."Shegrabs the stack of forged papers. "We'regoing to theFedtogether.We'regoing to hand him this pile of beautiful, artistic bullshit, and we're going to tell him to shove it up his ass.Andthen..."Shesteps into me, wrapping her arms around my waist, pressing her face against my chest.Shesmells like sleep and stubbornness. "AndthenI'mcoming back to theVault.BecauseIhave work to do.Andbecause you still haven't finished making my ring."
Ilook at her, my thumb tracing the rough edges of the steel. "Youknow whatI’mbuilding here."
Shelooks up, a smirk playing on her lips—the first real smileI'veseen in days. "I'man auditor,Elias.Isaw you measuring my finger.Iknow exactly what you’re forging in that bottom drawer.AndI’mnot letting you finish it until we’re both safe."
Iwrap my arms around her, crushing her soft curves against the hard, aching ridge of my cock.Myhands, stained black with the ink of the liesI’vewritten for her, gripped her hips and marked the back of her shirt.Iam branding her—externally with the ink and internally with the memory of my seed still cooling inside her pussy.Sheis the only asset that matters, andIam making sure the world knew she was claimed.
"You'remaking a mistake,"Imurmur into her hair. "I'mdangerous,Mia.I'ma criminal.Ijust committed forgery before breakfast."
"Iknow," she says, resting her cheek against my heart. "Butyour math is solid."
Iclose my eyes.One.Two.Three.Sheis staying.
