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Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room. The anger was palpable, testosterone and grief mixing into something combustible. These men wanted blood for blood, and they wanted it now.

"With what intel?" The voice came from the corner, and I recognized Eddie. I remembered him from the other churchmeeting I had attended. Tyson had nearly throttled him when he suggested using me as bait in a trap. Tyson clearly had an issue with him, I could see it in the way he tensed beside me.

"We don't know where they're holed up," Eddie continued, voice reasonable despite the tension. "Cruz has gone to ground. The Serpents have pulled back to defensive positions. We go in blind, more brothers die."

"So we find them," Tank said, like it was that simple.

"How? Our usual sources have gone quiet. The streets are locked down. Even the cops don't know where Cruz is hiding." Eddie stood, addressing the room with the confidence of someone who'd survived decades in the life. "We need actionable intelligence, not just rage."

"We know Cruz is behind it," another brother argued. "That's enough."

"Is it?" Eddie's gaze swept the room before landing on me. I felt Tyson stiffen, already reading where this was headed. "We know why he attacked. Who he was really after."

"Don't." Tyson's voice was low, dangerous, a warning that made the hair on my neck stand up.

But Eddie pressed on, either brave or stupid. "She's already a target. That's established fact. Why not use that? Controlled situation, our terms—"

"No." The word cracked like a gunshot.

"That was before two brothers died," Eddie countered, not backing down. "Before they showed they'll hit us anywhere, anytime. Before they proved they have cartel backing and military-grade weapons. The equation's changed."

"My answer hasn't." Tyson was on his feet now, body positioned between Eddie and me even though we were across the room.

"Maybe it should." Eddie turned to address the broader room, playing to the audience. "She's already marked. Clearly Cruz isimportant to the Serpent’s Prez. Enough that he he’s happy to risk all-out war. So we give him a shot—controlled, planned, on our terms. Draw him out, end this before more brothers bleed."

The room erupted in voices—some agreeing, others violently opposed. I sat frozen, watching the brotherhood fracture along the fault line of my existence. Some looked at me with sympathy, others with calculation, weighing my life against their brothers'.

"She's not bait," Thor rumbled, surprising everyone. "Girl's family now. Duke said so. We don't sacrifice family."

"We don't let family get us killed either," Eddie shot back. "How many more members you want to bury, Thor? How many more women you want to see widowed?"

That hit home. Thor's face darkened, but he didn't have an immediate answer. None of them did. The math was brutal in its simplicity—one life against many, a controlled risk against ongoing war.

Tyson moved before anyone could react, crossing the room in three strides. He slammed Eddie against the wall hard enough to rattle the memorial photos, forearm across his throat.

"Suggest using her as bait one more time—"

"Enough!" Duke's roar filled the space, presidential authority cracking like a whip. "Tyson, release him. Now."

For a moment, I thought Tyson might disobey. That this time he wouldn’t back down. His whole body shook with rage, muscles corded with the effort of not crushing Eddie's windpipe. Then, slowly, he stepped back, though his fists remained clenched.

"Eddie, drop it," Duke continued, voice brooking no argument. "We're not sacrificing family for vengeance. That's final."

Eddie straightened his cut, fingers smoothing the leather with practiced dignity. But his eyes . . . his eyes held something dangerous. Humiliation mixed with calculation, the look of aman who'd been publicly shut down twice now over the same issue.

"Just trying to save lives, Prez," he said quietly. "More brothers will die if this drags out. Their blood's on all our hands."

"Their blood is on the Serpents," Duke corrected firmly. "On Cruz. Not on her, not on us. We'll find another way."

The meeting continued, brothers throwing out ideas ranging from practical to borderline insane. Increase security at all businesses. Reach out to allied clubs for support. Put bounties on Serpent members. Torture captured enemies for information. Each suggestion was debated, refined, accepted or discarded. Someone even suggested cancelling the wedding.

I felt the undercurrent of division. Eddie wasn't alone in his thinking—I could see it in the glances, the body language, the way some brothers carefully didn't look at me. They'd die for me because Duke ordered it, because the code demanded it. But they'd also do the math and wonder if one woman was worth a war.

Tyson must have felt it too because his hand found mine, squeezing tight enough to hurt. A reminder that I wasn't alone, that he'd burn the whole city before letting them use me.

The meeting finally broke up with plans for increased patrols and intelligence gathering. Brothers filed out, some nodding at me, others avoiding eye contact.

"You okay?" Tyson asked once we were alone with the memorial chairs.