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Duke picked up one of the photos, studied it with the intensity of a man memorizing his enemy's face.

Thor growled, "Show me Mandy."

I'd known this was coming. Slid the photos across. "Her office has been under surveillance for two weeks. They've documented her arrival times, your pickup schedule, building security protocols."

Thor went still. That particular stillness that meant someone was about to bleed.

"Speaking of security gaps." I pulled out the worst one. "Riverside Gardens. Mandy's chosen venue."

The aerial shot showed everything. Chapel, reception area, parking, surrounding hills. Red marks indicated positions, angles, vulnerabilities. Someone had done their homework with surveying equipment and military precision.

"Eight weeks to the wedding." My voice stayed clinical even as Thor's breathing changed, became something dangerous.

"They've mapped every approach, every vantage point.

The northwestern hill provides clear sight lines to the chapel entrance.

Eastern approach allows vehicle access without passing security. The—"

Thor's fist hit the table hard enough to jump coffee cups. "Those fuckers are photographing Mandy? During our wedding planning?"

"It's not the first time," Duke reminded him, voice cutting through Thor's rage.

The temperature dropped further. Four months ago, the Serpents had used photos to blackmail Mandy. It had almost torn them—and the club—apart.

"They're escalating." I brought us back to facts before Thor's rage derailed the briefing. "Previous surveillance was opportunistic. This is systematic. Professional. Someone's providing tactical guidance."

"The cartel." Duke set down the photo, decision crystallizing in his eyes. "Military deserters would have this training."

"That's my assessment." I pulled out the countermeasure proposals. "We need immediate upgrades. Security systems, varied routines, protection details for vulnerable targets. The wedding venue needs complete reassessment."

Thor's voice came out low, controlled, infinitely more dangerous than his rage. "They think they can touch her again?"

"They think they can touch all of us." I spread out the full collection. "This isn't about Mandy specifically. It's about leverage. They hit our families, we react emotionally, make mistakes. Classic destabilization tactics."

"Fuck their tactics." Thor stood, energy crackling off him like static. "We hit them first. Tonight. End this before—"

"Sit down." Duke's command voice, the one that had held this club together through wars and worse. Thor sat, but his hands clenched and unclenched, looking for something to destroy.

"Tyson's right." Duke studied the materials with the focus of a general planning battle. "This is professional. We go in hot, we're playing their game. They want us reactive, emotional. We need to be smarter."

I felt something ease in my chest. He believed me. More importantly, he understood.

"Venue security." I clicked to my recommendations. "Primary and alternate routes, positioned security, background checks on all vendors. The Gardens is exposed, but we can minimize vulnerabilities."

"Or choose somewhere else." Duke glanced at Thor. "Somewhere we control completely."

Thor shook his head. "Mandy's got her heart set on the Gardens. Her parents got married there." His voice softened fractionally. "I'm not letting those fucks take that from her too."

I understood. The Serpents had taken enough from Mandy. Thor would burn the world before he let them steal her wedding day.

"Then we secure it." I showed the tactical overlay. "Four-man teams here and here. Spotters on the northwestern hill. Electronic surveillance on all approaches. We turn their reconnaissance against them."

Duke nodded slowly. "Do it. Whatever resources you need." He looked at Thor. "But we do this smart. No cowboy shit until we know their full plan."

Thor's jaw worked, fighting instinct. Finally, he nodded. "But when we move?"

"We end them." Duke's voice carried finality. "Every last one."

I gathered my materials, mind already working through implementation. Eight weeks to turn a wedding into a fortress without the bride knowing. Eight weeks to dismantle a professional operation without starting a war we weren't ready for.

But first, one more piece of business.

"There's something else." I kept my voice neutral. "About security for the wedding vendors."

Thor pulled out his phone, swiping to a calendar app I'd never seen him use before. "Eight weeks. Mandy's got everything planned down to the minute." His voice carried a mix of pride and bewilderment. "Florist on Tuesday, cake tasting Thursday, dress fitting next Monday."

"Each vendor's a potential vulnerability." I kept my tone professional. "We need security assessments for all of them."

"Starting with our own." Duke's eyes stayed on me. "What's the exposure level for businesses connected to the club?"

I'd prepared for this. "King's Tavern and Iron Kings Auto have established security. The real concern is Marked Kings. Corner location, multiple access points, large windows facing two streets."

"Lena's already working on the wedding pieces." Thor scrolled through his phone. "Custom designs for the whole wedding party. She's doing my piece next week, then the groomsmen." He glanced up. "That includes you, Ty."

My pen paused above my notepad. A fraction of a second, barely noticeable. Except Duke noticed everything.

"She's working late most nights to fit everyone in." Thor continued, oblivious to my reaction. "Mandy wants all the work done by the same artist, says it'll look more cohesive in the photos."

"Security for the tattoo shop will be challenging." I forced my voice to remain steady. "The corner location creates multiple approach vectors. Sight lines from the coffee shop across the street. Alley access on the north side."

Duke leaned back in his chair, eyes never leaving my face. "Sounds like it needs someone with tactical experience. Someone who can think like the enemy."

"I can draw up plans—"

"You'll handle it personally." Duke's tone brooked no argument. "Full security implementation. That means daily presence until the threat's neutralized."

My jaw tightened. Daily presence meant daily proximity to Lena.

Her purple-streaked hair, the way she bit her lip when concentrating on a design, that laugh that could cut through shop noise like music.

I'd kept my distance for good reason. She was Thor's friend, under club protection, off limits in every way that mattered.

"Is that a problem?" Duke's question carried weight.

"No problem." I made another note, hand steady despite the acceleration in my pulse. "I'll need to coordinate with Lena on scheduling, understand her routine."

"She opens at ten, closes at eight most nights." Thor supplied helpfully. "Later if she's got a big piece going. Girl's dedicated, I'll give her that. Treats every tattoo like it's going on the Sistine Chapel."

I knew her schedule. Knew she grabbed coffee at 9:45 from the place next door, same order every day—large dark roast, two sugars, splash of cream.

Knew she took smoke breaks in the alley even though she'd quit six months ago, just needed the excuse to step outside.

Knew more than I should about someone I'd been avoiding.

"What about the other vendors?" I shifted focus, needing to move past the dangerous territory of Lena Rivera.

Duke pulled out his own list. "Riverside Flowers on Fifth Street. Sweet Dreams Bakery. That photographer Mandy likes, what's his name?"

"Marcus Wong." Thor supplied. "Arty fuck, but his work's good."

We spent the next twenty minutes dividing territory.

Duke would handle the venue directly, his presence alone enough to make management cooperative.

Thor would coordinate with the prospects, setting up rotating security for his high-value targets.

I got vendor security, which meant my days would be spent ensuring every florist, baker, and seamstress in town understood they were under Heavy Kings protection.

And Marked Kings. Always came back to the tattoo shop.

"Questions?" Duke stood, signaling the meeting's end.

Thor was already moving, energy focused now, dangerous but directed. "I've got church in two hours. Gonna hit the gym, work off some of this." He paused at the door. "Ty, thanks for the heads up. Would've walked right into it."

"That's what brothers do." I started gathering my materials.

Thor left, boots heavy on the old wood. Duke remained, watching me pack photos into precise folders.

"You did good work." He moved closer, voice lowering. "Don’t know what we’d do without you."

"Just applying my training to a different battlefield."

"That include maintaining operational security around attractive tattoo artists?"

I stopped packing, met his eyes directly. "I don’t know what you mean."

"Oh really?" Duke crossed his arms. "Because that little tell when Thor mentioned Lena's name says otherwise."

Heat crept up my neck. "It's nothing."

"Brother, I've known you since we were fifteen. You've got three tells when you're interested in a woman. The pen pause, that thing you do with your jaw, and you get real specific about tactical challenges." He smiled, but his eyes stayed serious. "You just hit all three in under a minute."

"She's under club protection."

"She's not claimed." Duke's voice carried meaning. "Not property. Not family. Just a friend who does good work and keeps her mouth shut."

"Thor thinks of her as a sister."

"Thor thinks of everyone as family. Doesn't make it law." Duke moved toward the door, then paused. "Just keep your head clear. We need you focused on security, not purple hair and pretty smiles."

"My focus is solid."

"Good. Because if the Serpents notice you spending every day at that shop, they might wonder why. Might make her more of a target than she already is."

The words hit like cold water. I hadn't considered that angle, too caught up in my own concerns to see the tactical implications. My presence could paint a target on her back.

"I'll be careful."

"You'll be professional. No one in the club touches her, and that includes you."

"There is no me and Lena."

"Good." Duke headed for the door.

I finished packing, each movement automatic while my brain worked the problem.

Eight weeks of daily proximity to Lena. Eight weeks of professional distance while ensuring her safety.

Eight weeks of watching those talented hands create art while pretending I didn't wonder what they'd feel like touching something other than a tattoo machine.

Eight weeks of torture.