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As we back toward the door, I add, "And Rousseau? Tell Kade I'm looking forward to our next conversation."

Outside, Marco falls in step beside me. "Boss, we just letting them take over like that?"

"No," I say, sliding into my car. "But I need to see Olivia first. Make sure she's safe. Then we handle this. Permanently."

With my thoughts racing, I drive to the house. The Serpents made their move, bold as brass. Taking Gino's is a direct challenge, one I can't ignore. But right now, all I care about is making sure Olivia is unharmed.

The house comes into view, Roman's car parked out front. I barely kill the engine before I'm out and striding toward the door.

Roman opens it before I knock, relief washing over his face. "She's in the kitchen. She's fine, boss."

I push past him, following the sound of voices until I see her. Olivia is pacing in the kitchen, the teakettle whistling on the stove, but she's ignoring the damn thing.

Making my way over, I remove it from the burner. Finally, she spins around and sees me, the tension visibly draining from her shoulders.

"Sam," she breathes, setting down her mug and crossing over to me.

I pull her into my arms, burying my face in her hair, inhaling her scent. For a moment, I just hold her, letting her presence calm the storm raging inside me.

"Are you okay?" I murmur against her temple.

"I'm fine. What's going on?" Now that she's felt me with her own hands, knows that I'm safe, her blue eyes flash with confusion. "Roman wouldn't tell me anything, just dragged me out mid-shift."

"You're not going back to work." The words come out harsher than intended, my fear masquerading as authority. "It's not safe."

Her eyes narrow. "Excuse me?"

"The Iron Serpents were watching the bar." I run a hand through my hair, trying to keep my composure and avoid telling her that her bar has now become the new hangout for a motorcycle gang. "You're staying here. End of discussion."

Something shifts between us. Anger marking her features, she takes a step back from me. "Like hell I am." She jabs a finger at my chest, fearless in a way that both infuriates and captivates me. "I have responsibilities. My grandfather?—"

"Kelly can handle him," I cut her off, unwilling to entertain any argument. This is for her safety. No argument she makes would convince me right now. As long as she's alive, it doesn't matter how angry she is.

"That's not the point." Her voice rises, filling the space between us. "You can't just decide things for me. I thought we were past this."

"I can when it comes to your safety."

"My safety?" She laughs, but there's no humor in it, just bitter recognition. "The same safety that had you keeping me prisoner here? The same safety that has your men following my every move?"

"Yes." I grab her shoulders, fighting the urge to shake some sense into her. "The same safety that keeps youalive."

She shrugs out of my grip. "I'm not some porcelain doll you can lock away, Sam. The bar is my life. And I didn't ask for this." Shaking her head, she moves away from me like she's suddenly afraid of me. Like I'm the bad guy here. "You're the one who put me in danger."

My abdomen convulses as if someone's just sliced a knife through my gut.

You can't protect the people you love.

That little voice worms its way to the surface. Because she's right, I am the reason she's in danger.

"The bar won't matter if you're dead." The words tear from my throat, raw with emotion I can't contain. "I won't watch someone else I—" I cut myself off, but her eyes widen.

"Sam—"

I turn away, unable to face the intensity of her gaze, afraid of what she might see. "You're staying here. That's final."

"No." Her voice is steel, unyielding. "It's not."

But I don't stay to let her argue any more. I spin on my heel, walking out. She'll be safe in the mansion, surrounded by my men.