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Isabella’s face clouds over. “That’s terrible,” she says softly. “To have to sell yourself just for safety…”

I nod, agreeing with her assessment. “It’s not ideal,” I admit, “but we can’t save everyone. Most of them are just looking for a meal ticket, hoping to become someone’s girlfriend or old lady eventually.”

As I watch Isabella process this information, I’m struck by how different she is from the women I’m used to dealing with. Her intelligence and compassion shine through, even as she tries to understand a world so foreign to her.

I find myself wanting to shield her from the harsher realities of club life, even though I know she’s seen far worse in her time with the cartel. It’s a strange feeling, this protective instinct warring with my usual lack of concern.

As we continue our tour, I wonder where Isabella fits into all of this. Is she just passing through, or could she become something more? The thought both thrills and terrifies me in equal measure. I’m thirty-five now. I should settle down, but that feels too much like being trapped. I’m not sure I’m ready to be shackled to a wife.

I watch Isabella’s eyes dart around the construction site, taking in every detail. I can almost see the gears turning in her mind.

“So, what do you think?”

“About the club girls?”

“Yeah. You don’t think we treat them the same way your brother does, do you?”

Isabella bites her lip, hesitating. “I’m… not sure. There are parallels, certainly. But at least you’re not holding children hostage to control the women. That’s something, I suppose.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I hadn’t realized just how messed up it looks when we basically have women trading sex for a roof over their head. It’s just the way shit was when I patched in, so I never thought to question it. But really, if the women aren’t trapped, is it really that bad? The guys get what they want, and the women get something in return. It feels a hell of a lot more equal than the shit Juan’s doing.

“Christ,” I mutter. “Look, our women can come and go as they please. We’re not holding anyone against their will.”

“Are there rules that the women have to follow?” Isabella asks, her piercing blue eyes meeting mine.

“A few. The main one is that club girls don’t mess with women claimed by patched members. Mess with an old lady, and you’re out.”

“Old ladies?” Isabella’s eyebrow arches.

“Wives, basically. Although, you don’t have to be wifed to be considered an old lady. But don’t worry about all of that. Blue’s the only one you need to know about right now. She’s Vapor’s wife, so she’s basically the queen around here. She gets more respect from the men than all the others because she’s Pres’ woman. Some guys have claimed girlfriends, but they don’t have the same status until they’re ‘wifed.’”

I see the question forming on Isabella’s lips before she even asks it. “What about me? Do I… have a rank?”

My stomach twists. This is the part I’ve been dreading. I don’t know what the hell we are, but I do know I’m not going to lie about what I did. “To get the club’s protection for you, I had to claim you.” Isabella’s smile fades, so I hurry to add, “With orwithout the club’s backing, I was going to protect you anyway. This just makes it official.”

Before Isabella can respond, a familiar voice cuts through our conversation. “Ice!” Fang calls out, striding towards us. “I’ve only got a few minutes before I need to get back to work.”

I notice the way Fang’s eyes narrow as he looks at Isabella. The suspicion is clear, and I silently pray that he’ll come around eventually. We need to present a united front.

“Mind checking Isabella’s phone for any tracking software?” I ask.

“You think she’s bugged.”

“We should check.”

“Already checked her car and that was clean,” Fang says.

“What do you mean you already looked at my car?” Isabella looks from me to him and back.

“Uh, I had one of the prospects tow it to the garage last night. We have a legit repair business.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demands.

“Didn’t think about it.” I rub the back of my neck. “Anyway, car’s clean so no problem there.”

“If you give me your phone I can take a look at it,” Fang says before grumbling, “Don’t know why the hell I didn’t think of it last night.”

“We had a lot of shit going on,” I say.