"There's a woman," I say finally.
Salvo's eyebrows rise. "Well. That's new."
"Her name's Ripley. She was with Cain Varro—his girlfriend, for three years. He was beating her. I saw it, stripped his patch, and when he came after her again..." I pause. "I killed him."
"I heard." Salvo's voice is neutral. "Word travels, even to us old-timers. You broke protocol. Made it personal."
"It was personal."
"Yeah. I figured that out." He sets down his cup, folding his hands on the table. "So, now you've got the Chief of Police gunning for you, half your club questioning your judgment, anda woman living under your roof who's become the center of everything. That about sum it up?"
"Pretty much."
"And you came here because...?"
I drag a hand through my hair, frustration bleeding through. "Because I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I've always known. Always had a plan, a strategy, a way forward. But with her—" I stop, struggling for words. "She makes me feel things I don't know how to handle. And those feelings are affecting my judgment. Making me reckless."
"You think loving someone makes you weak?"
The question cuts straight to the heart of it.
I look at Salvo—this man who led the club for two decades, who built an empire from nothing, who survived more close calls than I can count.
"Doesn't it?"
"No." His voice is firm. "Loving someone makes you human. And human is the only thing worth being."
"Easy for you to say. You've got Loretta. You've had her for forty years."
"And you think those forty years were easy?" He laughs, but there's an edge to it. "I almost lost her a dozen times. Almost let the club destroy what we had. There were nights I slept at the clubhouse because she couldn't stand to look at me, mornings I woke up wondering if today was the day she'd finally walk out."
"But she didn't."
"No. Because we fought for it. Both of us." He leans forward, his gaze intense. "Love isn't a weakness, Levi. It's a choice. Every day, you choose to put someone else first. To make room for them in a life that doesn't always have room. It's the hardest thing you'll ever do, and the most worthwhile."
I'm quiet, letting his words sink in.
"The club," I say finally. "Some of the brothers think she's a liability. Think I've lost perspective."
"Have you?"
"I don't know. Maybe." I meet his eyes. "But I can't let her go. I've tried to imagine it—sending her away, cutting her loose—and I can't. The thought of losing her..." I shake my head. "It's not an option."
Salvo nods slowly. "Then you've already made your choice. You just haven't accepted it yet."
"What choice?"
"The choice to be a man first and a President second." He holds up a hand before I can protest. "I'm not saying you abandon the club. I'm saying you figure out how to have both. How to lead and love at the same time. It's not easy, but it's possible."
"How did you do it?"
"Badly, most of the time." A ghost of a smile crosses his face. "I made mistakes. Hurt Loretta when I should have protected her, prioritized the club when I should have prioritized us. But I learned. Slowly, painfully, I learned that the club doesn't need all of me. It just needs the parts that matter—the leadership, the vision, the willingness to make hard calls. The rest of me belongs to her."
"And if the club can't accept that?"
"Then you remind them who's in charge." His voice hardens. "You're the President, Levi. You earned that patch through blood and sweat and sacrifice. If some of the brothers don't like your choices, that's their problem. Not yours."
I sit with that for a moment. The permission to be human.
