Page 25 of The Chief (Those (Damn!) Texas Dantes #3)

He kissed her again, steady and grounding. A promise sealed in breath and heat and the whisper of skin. Then he wrapped his arms around her and just held her, like the wanting hadn’t gone anywhere. Like it never would.

They stayed like that for a long moment, the silence between them pulsing with something heavy. And then Cade’s phone buzzed on the nightstand.

He didn’t let her go right away. Just reached for it blindly with one hand while keeping the other locked around her waist.

A text from Titus lit the screen.

We’re on our way. Zane and I. We’re bringing the wives. Women can hang while we get a read on what the fuck’s going on. How’s Elise?

Cade exhaled, his thumb hovering over the reply. He looked down at the woman in his arms, her eyes half-lidded, her lips still parted from his kiss. She was going to hate this.

He texted back: Healing. Barely sitting still. You’ll see for yourself soon.

Then he set the phone down and braced himself for the storm that was coming.

ELISE HEARD voices. Quiet, unmistakably female, and close. Now in the master suite, she tensed automatically, her body still tuned for danger, but Cade’s arm tightened around her in silent reassurance.

“It’s just Jazz and Lily,” he murmured against her temple. “They came with Titus and Zane.”

Of course they had.

She eased back and nodded, while her heart gave a nervous little lurch.

The wedding had been real, surreal, even, but not the kind she’d ever imagined.

No wedding gown, her sister’s flowers, no walking the aisle to the groom of her choice.

Just Cade’s unwavering voice and the steel in his eyes when he’d claimed her.

Now she had to face the women who watched the entire disaster.

Jazz appeared in the doorway first, her belly so round it stole Elise’s breath for a second. That bump wasn’t just big. It was fierce and full of life. A sign of safety and continuity and everything Elise had never let herself want. And now, somehow, did.

She blinked, throat tightening around something soft and stunned, as Jazz shifted her weight and stepped into view, one hand braced on the doorframe, the other supporting her lower back.

For a second, it looked like she might topple forward, but instead she moved with practiced grace, the kind that spoke of quiet strength and stubborn endurance.

“Made it!” she announced triumphantly. “We thought about knocking, but Cade would’ve just glared at the door until it opened itself.”

Lily stepped around her, petite and glowing in that early-pregnancy way that made her look like she’d been dusted in light. “Well, shit,” she said cheerfully. ”Zane said if Cade didn’t answer fast enough, he’d just shoot the lock.”

Cade groaned. “Jesus. I’m going to start frisking people for silencers.”

Elise blinked, and then surprised herself by laughing.

It burst out, sudden and strange, like sunlight through storm clouds.

Her chest tightened around it, unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

She hadn’t realized how long it had been since her body remembered joy.

Since she’d let herself experience anything that wasn’t fear or pain.

The sound came awkwardly in her throat, almost like it belonged to someone else. And yet, it settled something inside her. Shook something loose. Just a breath, sharp and startling, as if her body remembered something lighter before her mind could catch up. A hiccup of amusement. But it was real.

Jazz’s eyes softened. “Hey, look at that. She does know how to grin.”

Lily came forward first, her movements easy and casual, like they’d been friends forever. “I would hug you,” she said, gesturing to Elise’s side, “but I don’t want to cause any more damage.”

“I’m okay,” Elise said, surprised again at the truth of her words.

“Sort of.” She led them slowly downstairs, every step measured to protect her healing side, until they reached the sunroom, light-filled, quiet, tucked away just far enough from Cade’s office to offer a little peace.

She gestured to the seating with a faint smile. “Make yourselves at home.”

Jazz eased into a nearby chair like a woman who was either going to sit or give birth. “Welcome to the family, sweetheart. Trial by fire’s kind of our thing.”

“You mean bullets?” Elise asked, brows rising.

Lily gave a dramatic sigh and perched on the edge of a nearby ottoman, close enough to nudge Jazz’s knee with hers.

“Unfortunately, yes.” She looked at her with a broad, cocky smile.

“Zane took one for me. Well, almost. He shoved me out of the way and caught the tail end. It’s not a real Dante marriage until someone nearly bleeds out for love. ”

Elise blinked. “That’s horrifying.”

“And weirdly comforting,” Jazz added. “You’re not alone in this, okay? We’ve all had our moments.”

Something in Elise cracked at that, just a little.

Not a sob or a collapse, but a subtle shift deep inside her, like an old scar loosening.

A breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding slid free, and warmth bloomed in her chest, edged with a kind of grief that wasn’t sharp anymore, but soft. Manageable.

The three of them sat in the cozy warmth of the sun-drenched room, and for the first time since the wedding, she didn’t feel like an outsider. Not exactly. ”I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she admitted. “The wedding. The attack. The chaos.”

Jazz shrugged. “Chaos is the family crest. And for what it’s worth? I was at the wedding. We all saw the way Cade looked at you. That man didn’t just switch brides. He chose you.”

Lily nodded in total agreement. “There wasn’t a single person in that room who thought otherwise. Not once he had you in his arms.”

Elise looked down, throat tight.

Jazz leaned forward with a soft grunt, shifting to ease the pressure on her lower back. “You okay?”

“I keep thinking about the day after the wedding,” Elise said quietly.

“I was in Cade’s office with him. We’d just been.

.. close. Holding each other. He sent me back to my chair and called for Grigor to come in.

” Her throat tightened, the memory surging hot and vivid.

“Grigor saw me and froze. Then he reached for his gun. Cade lunged forward to stop him. Got between us before I could stand. The shot went off... and hit me.” It took her a moment to continue.

“Cade didn’t hesitate. He dropped Grigor with a knife from his boot.

If he hadn’t moved that fast...” Her voice trailed off. “I wouldn’t be here.”

Jazz’s smile faded. “You’re still here. That’s what matters.”

Lily, for once, didn’t joke. “You’ve got Cade now. And that means nobody touches you without going through hell first.”

Elise glanced toward the door, her pulse kicking up.

The murmur of voices from Cade’s office reminded her of just how much she didn’t know, what they were planning, what decisions were being made in her name.

A flicker of unease threaded through her, not because she doubted Cade, but because dominance like that—silent, male, calculating—was a kind of storm she still wasn’t sure how to read.

And yet, deep beneath it, warmth stirred.

Relief. She wasn’t fighting alone anymore.

“What are they talking about in there?” she asked.

“Hell,” Lily said with a wicked grin. “Trying to figure out how to keep you safe, who’s behind the hit, and whether or not they need to break a few international laws to get answers.”

“Lily,” Jazz muttered. “Don’t scare her.”

Elise realized she wasn’t scared. Not in this moment, anyway. Instead, she laughed again, and this time it didn’t splinter anything inside her.

Lily caught her eye. “Cade ever tell you what he did for me after that mess with your family trying to take me out?”

Elise shook her head, staring in shock. Her family had tried to take Lily out? She blinked, trying to process that. A hollow thump dropped in her chest. “They went after you?” she asked quietly, the words catching on something tight and ashamed in her chest.

“Yeah. I think it was your father. At least, Leif suggested as much. I wasn’t doing great, afterward,” Lily added, her voice softer now.

“I was still recovering from Zane getting shot and everything that followed. Cade showed up with Chinese and sat on the floor with me until I talked. Didn’t push.

Just… listened. Then he told me exactly what needed to be done to make things right. Like it was already handled.”

Jazz smiled. “And when I was spiraling during my second trimester with nausea, hormones, panic attacks, Cade talked Titus down three separate times. That man acts like he’s made of steel, but he’s the quiet glue holding this whole family together.”

Lily rubbed her barely-protruding belly. “He’s the fixer. The one you go to when the world’s falling apart. He’s calm when no one else is. Figures out what no one else can. And fixes what no one sees breaking.”

Elise bit her lip. “He didn’t really know me. And he stepped between me and a bullet.”

“Sounds about right,” Lily said.

Jazz shifted, clearly uncomfortable in her chair. “Cade’s not perfect. He’s intense. Cold, even, when he’s working. But when he loves you?” She shook her head. “There’s no safer place to be.”

Elise looked down at her hands. They weren’t shaking anymore.

Lily reached over and tapped her wrist. “You belong here. No matter how it started. And if anyone gives you crap about it?” She smiled like a woman who’d happily go to war. “We’ll take them out for you.”

Jazz grinned. “Gently. Politely. With cupcakes.”

Elise laughed, her side giving a warning jolt that made her wince as the sound escaped.

Jazz stood carefully, groaning. “Okay, I need to pee before this kid uses my bladder as a trampoline.” She straightened with a hand on her back, then leaned over and pressed a brief kiss to Elise’s temple. “You’ve got us now,” she said warmly. “You’re not alone.”

Lily stood up with a grunt and a roll of her eyes. “Ugh, I swear this baby’s already got opinions.” She shot Elise a wink as they reached the doorway. “Get some rest. You’re one of us now. Which means you’ll need lots of sleep and healing.”

Elise nodded, a lump catching in her throat.

Lily paused in the doorway. “By the way? You looked gorgeous at the wedding. Even in a bridesmaid’s dress.”

And then they were gone, their voices fading down the hallway.

Elise leaned back in her chair and pressed a hand to her heart. It was still beating fast, but no longer from fear. There was something steadier now, something almost fierce taking root inside her—like maybe she could stop surviving and start belonging.

For the first time since this whole thing started… she felt like a Dante.