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My eyes narrow on the man who is closer to a brother than my own fucking twin is. “What the fuck are you talking about, Rook?”

“You didn’t think you were going to leave Las Vegas without us, did you?”

My jaw damn near unhinges as it drops. I stare at the man, waiting for him to tell me that this is some kind of joke.

“You left the Steel Sinners?” I turn away from him toward the other men casually leaning against their motorcycles, chatting as if they didn’t just uproot their entire fucking lives. “Are you out of your fucking minds?” I say, shocked when I notice for the first time that none of them are wearing the Steel Sinners patch on their cuts.

“Must be,” he says, turning to the building and whistling low. “There is a shit ton of work to do to get this place rolling. Where do you even start?”

“Rook, what the fuck did you do?”

Something serious crosses his face as he turns back around. “There was always going to be a divide, Bishop. Your father should have known that some men would stay loyal to Pope and others would leave the Steel Sinners if you decided to leave. Deacon created it, and we’ve just picked our sides.”

I turn back to the men, all of whom I’ve worked closely with over the years. Goddamnit. Their lives are in Las Vegas. Their families, their friends and their connections. “I wouldn’t have asked—”

“You didn’t,” Rook corrects. “And neither did I. Everyone left Elysium of their own free will. Pope understands that. Your brother respects that.”

“You know you can’t go back, right? Once you’re out, you’re out!” I voice what he already knows, eyeing the empty spot on his cut where the Steel Sinners patch used to sit. Most of these men spent their lives in the club, with fathers who helped found it. Their roots run nearly as deep as mine, and yet, they chose to leave.

And for what? Me?

I stare up at the building and the rot surrounding it. It’s miles away from Elysium, which is well established and has been running for decades. And now, it’s a new home not just to me but to men who would remain loyal to the black sheep of the family.

“What are we standing out here roasting in the sun for?” Wolf yells from his bike, eyes glinting with humor. “Show us our new digs, man!”

The sentiment is met with a series of nods and mumbles.

“Impatient fuckers,” I say, a smile forming on my face. “Don’t know that there’s much to see yet, but knock yourselves out.”

One by one, they walk past me, clapping me on the shoulder and shaking my hand. No words are needed, not when their actions have already done all the talking. They step inside, leaving Rook and me staring out front.

“What are you planning on calling it?” Rook asks quietly.

“Cathedral.”

“Ah,” he says, letting out a quick laugh. “Every Bishop needs a cathedral.”

“We’ll be bigger than Elysium. We’ll be better.”

“Damn right we will,” he agrees, not a shadow of doubt in his voice. “You have us. The best of the fucking best.”

“The Aces,” I say.

“Exactly right,” he laughs.

“Then we’ll be exactly that. The Steel Aces.”

“Fuck me. That fits, doesn’t it?” he agrees. “Enough chit-chat, let’s go inside and look at our dump.”

“Nothing a little paint can’t fix.”

“I bet.” He laughs, kicking the For Sale sign as we walk over to join the others. We step over the trampled police tape and into the massive entrance that will someday be our hotel lobby.

“I bet someone died in here,” Rook comments as we step inside, drawing a laugh out of me. “Great, and more boob graffiti. At some point, enough is enough, man.”

I look around the colorful walls and then turn to the men who left a perfect life behind and followed me into the world of the unknown. Maybe Deacon Cassidy did me a favor. I don’t believe in fate but this feels right. It’s almost like I was always meant to end up here, in this mess we’re going to transform.

In Reno.