Page 50 of After the Chase

"As long as it’s clear I operate independently," I say. "I don't report to anyone. I don't coordinate with your operations. I fund you because it benefits me to have access to your resources, that's the extent of our arrangement. I want nobody calling me with problems, and if you get busted by the police or government, you don’t know my name."

"Understood," Marcus says. "You're a patron, not a member, and have complete autonomy."

"And him?" Blade asks, nodding toward Chase. "What's his role?"

Suddenly, you could cut the atmosphere with a knife. I don't move, but everyone feels the shift.

"He has no role," I say quietly. "He's my husband and is off-limits. And I mean OFF limits, no one speaks to him, approaches him, or acknowledges his existence without my explicit permission."

Nathan bristles slightly. "We're just supposed to pretend he doesn't exist?"

"Yes."

"Wow, thats fucking crazy," Dante says, leaning back into his chair, his eyes switching between me and Chase, like he is trying to gauge our relationship.

"Non-negotiable," I say. "If that's a problem, I walk. Right now."

Marcus raises a hand, silencing Dante from speaking further. "It's not a problem, we’ll make sure everyone knows."

I can feel Chase's tension beside me, but he doesn't speak. He knows better than to interfere when I'm establishing boundaries and the monster inside me loves how he has followed my rules of not speaking before we arrived. So malleable and good for me.

"Then we have an arrangement," I say.

Marcus extends his hand across the table. I shake it firmly but briefly.

"Welcome to the family," he says. "We're glad to have you as a patron. Care to share a drink to celebrate?”

“I don’t drink, but thanks anyway.”

“You are an odd one, Noah, but I gotta admit, I’m dying to see you in action,” Dante says with a wide ass grin and I get flashbacks of Ivan. I just know this guy is gonna try and be my friend. Maybe I should start killing anyone who is nice to me.

We spend the next hour discussing the financial structure. Nathan walks us through current operations, introduces us to more members who filter in and out of the room, shows us the layout of the clubhouse and the secure areas where sensitive discussions happen.

Chase stays close to me the entire time, silent and observant. I can feel the weight of his attention, the way he's making mental notes of everything for his journal. Several men and women try to make eye contact with him, but I intercept every attempt with a look that makes them turn away.

By the time we leave, the message is clear. Chase is mine, and anyone who forgets that will regret it.

We drive back to our hotel in silence, and when we walk through the lobby, Chase's hand finds mine.

"I'm proud of you," he says.

It's an odd thing to say. Proud of me for what? For being a psychopath? For funding a criminal organization?

But I understand what he means. He's proud that I'm embracing what I am without shame or hesitation. I think.

"Thanks," I say.

Inside our suite, Chase immediately goes to his journal and I watch him write for a few minutes, his hand moving quickly across the page.

Then I cross to him, turning his chair to face me. I’d promised a night of fucking, and a night of fucking he is gonna get.

"Enough writing, I promised you a sore ass, and it’s time to pay up.”

I grab his throat, pulling him to his feet, and moving him over to the windows. "Turn around."

He obliges without question, facing the windows. Manhattan spreads out below us with millions of lights, thousands of people who have no idea what happens in rooms like this.

I press against him from behind, letting him feel how hard I am. "I'm going to fuck you right here against these windows. Remember how much you enjoyed that last time? Who knows, this time someone may see you." I slide my hand down to palm his erection through his pants. "You want this don’t you? You want everyone to know you belong to me."