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The guys watched me, but I shook my head, giving them a soft smile.

“Hi, Samuel? This is Fallon over at House of Creed.” My voice was light, cheerful, utterly unbothered.

“Oh! Hello. What can I do for you?”

I stepped over Amanda, who was still sniveling on the floor clutching her hand to her chest.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, but we can no longer accept Miss Clery as a customer.”

Silence. Then, concern. “Oh no, what happened? Is everything okay?”

I didn’t bother sugarcoating it.

I told him exactly what happened, including Amanda’s claim that she was going to fuck my husband, her refusal to respect his boundaries, Her broken wrist, and the security footage available if he needed proof.

Samuel’s voice hardened instantly. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Of course.” I smiled. “Now, will you or one of your packmates be picking her up, or should I call the police?”

His answer was instant. “Call the police. They can have her.” Amanda screeched his name, begging. Samuel hung up.

Before I could dial the police, I was suddenly wrapped in warmth. Romano was wrapped around me, arms tight around my waist. And another warm, hard body pressed against my back.

“Mm,” Voss murmured, his lips brushing my ear, his voice full of something dark, possessive, hungry. “I love when you laugh like that. Makes me hard.”

The half-laugh, half-moan that escaped me was utterly involuntary.

Chapter Seven

Voss

February 18th

9:26 A.M

“Jace, have you acquired the asset for tonight?”

Kingston’s voice cuts through the quiet, shaking me from my thoughts. I blink, realizing my coffee has gone completely cold in my hand, the ceramic mug warming my palm but offering nothing else. How long had I been standing here, lost in my own head? I take a slow sip anyway, ignoring the bitter taste, letting it ground me and pull me back into the moment.

Across the kitchen, Jace stands at the stove, his broad back shifting with each precise movement as he cooks. He’s shirtless, his usual discipline relaxed in the early morning air, moving with a quiet confidence. I can see the difference Fallon is having on him. It’s only been four days with her here, and much of the tension has leaked from his shoulders. His black joggers sit low on his hips, his body wound tight beneath the surface, always controlled but never at ease. The bacon sizzles in the pan, hot grease spitting at his skin, but he doesn’t flinch or react. He keeps moving.

Brave man. Or maybe just a stubborn one. Pain is something you learn to ignore after a while. Knowing who his parents were, I can believe he really didn’t notice it.

He barely acknowledges Kingston’s question with more than a grunt, flipping a strip of bacon before responding. “Acquired and placed in the usual asset vault.”

I smirk slightly, shaking my head. The way we talk in code still amuses me, even after all these years. Acquired. Secured. Vault. Neat little terms to make our world seem less brutal than it is. But we all know the truth. We don’t just solve problems. We erase them.

Kingston leans against the island, rolling up his sleeves, his watch catching the light as he fastens it. He looks like he’s about to end someone’s life with a handshake. His gray three-piece suit is immaculate, tailored to perfection, and the fabric is practically molded for him. A red dress shirt peeks out beneath the vest, unbuttoned at the collar just enough to make it look effortless rather than arrogant.

I don’t think a single one of us owns a tie.

He catches me watching him as he finishes adjusting his cufflinks, his lips quirking slightly like he knows exactly where my mind went. I don’t look away. Kingston always knows.

“After we pick up supplies for Fallon’s nest, I have to head into the office.” His voice is smooth. I roll my shoulders, pushing down the feeling creeping up my spine, the one that reminds me I was never supposed to have this. That men like us—men like me—don’t get soft things.

We take. We control. We own.

Fallon is so fucking soft, and all I want is to keep her that way. Keep her happy, keep her from realizing that I don’t deserve her. That none of us do.