"So what do we do?" Sterling asks.
"We make it clear that our involvement was an exception, not a pattern. We helped take down traffickers because it aligned with our values, not because we're cooperating with federal agencies." Vulture looks at Ava. "That means you need to be careful about what you say in these interviews. Don't make the club look like we're informants."
"I won't. The story's about the trafficking network and Castellano's crimes, not about the Saints." She straightens, and I can see the journalist in her assessing angles. "But I can't ignore the club's role completely. People will ask how I got access, how I stayed safe during the investigation."
"Then you tell them the truth. That you needed protection and we provided it. That when push came to shove, we chose to help because it was the right thing to do." Vulture’s expressionsoftens slightly. "Just don't make us sound like Boy Scouts. We've got a reputation to maintain."
"Understood."
Church is called an hour later, and this time Ava doesn't ask to attend. She's learning the boundaries, understanding when things are club business and when they're not. I leave her with Condor going through more interview requests and head down to the chapel where brothers are already gathering.
The table's full when Vulture calls the meeting to order. Every patched member is present, their faces serious, knowing this conversation could determine the club's future.
"We've got a publicity problem," Vulture starts without preamble. "Ava's article put us in the spotlight, and not everyone's happy about it. I've had calls from three other MCs in the region asking if we've turned informant."
Grumbles around the table, brothers exchanging dark looks.
"We haven't," I say firmly. "We took down traffickers who were operating in our territory without permission. We protected a civilian who needed help. That's all."
"That's all to us," Hustler counters. "But to the outside world, it looks like we're working with the feds. That makes us targets."
"Or it makes us respected," Sterling argues. "We took out a billionaire trafficking network. That sends a message that we've got principles, that there are lines we won't cross."
"It also sends a message that we're soft," Falcon says. "That we care more about saving innocent girls than about protecting our own interests."
"Since when is saving innocent lives soft?" The words are out before I can stop them, my voice hard. "Elena was innocent. Those twenty girls were innocent. You want to tell me we should've let them be sold because helping them made us look weak?"
The room goes silent. Most of the brothers know about my sister, but I don't talk about her. I don't use her memory to win arguments, but this matters too much to stay quiet.
"Ice Pick's right," Falcon says after a moment. "We're not soft for having standards. We're smart. Trafficking brings heat we don't need, it hurts people who can't defend themselves. Taking a stand against it doesn't make us weak. It makes us different from the monsters we're fighting."
"So what's the play?" Rook asks.
"We continue business as usual. We run our operations, protect our territory, maintain our reputation, but we also make it clear that the trafficking takedown was personal, not professional. A one-time thing, not a pattern." Vulture looks around the table. "Anyone who's got a problem with that can speak now."
No one does. The vote's unanimous when it comes, and church breaks up with brothers dispersing to their duties. I hang back, waiting until it's just me and Vulture.
"You used Elena to make your point," he says quietly.
"I know, but it needed to be said." I lean against the table. "The brothers needed to understand why this mattered, why we couldn't just look the other way."
"They understand, but be careful how often you pull that card. Grief's a powerful weapon, but it loses impact if you use it too much."
"Noted." I head for the door, then pause. "Vulture, are we making a mistake letting Ava into our world, letting her write about us?"
"Maybe, but some mistakes are worth making." He stands, coming around the desk. "She's good for you, Mason. Good for the club in ways we didn't expect. And if the cost of that is some uncomfortable publicity, I'll take it."
I head back upstairs to find Ava's moved to my room, her laptop open and phone pressed to her ear. She's pacing while she talks, animated and engaged, and I lean against the doorframe watching her work.
"Yes, I understand the time commitment. And no, I won't reveal my sources." She listens, then laughs. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm not interested in a book deal right now. Maybe down the line." More listening. "Thank you. I'll be in touch."
She hangs up and notices me. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough to hear you turn down a book deal. That's a lot of money to walk away from."
"It's also a lot of commitment to something I'm not sure I want to relive." She closes her laptop and crosses to me. "How was church?"
"Tense. Some brothers are worried about the publicity, but Falcon kept everyone in line." I pull her against me, needing the contact. "We're going to be okay. The club, I mean. This'll blow over."
