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“I realize the situation is complicated and I acknowledge what he did was sickening. He will be dealt with, I can promise you this. Everything he has will be turned over to you, as you demanded – being the heir to the Graven estate and its assets allows that.”

“I give a fuck about his money!”

“I understand that, but the fact remains.” He sits back, looking across the others for back up.

I look to Trick who flattens his lips.

Fuck.

“Aside from everything, Raven,” he whispers. “What he’s saying is true. Your mother ran. Was she hurt, yes. Would I stop my daughter if the same happened, never. Did they gain you, yes, but—”

“But the Gravens never got their wife.”

He nods.

My eyes meet Captain’s.

Zoey.

He winks, his gaze flying over my shoulder and holding.

The shuffle of Victoria’s shoes has me spinning around, staring as she pulls a small grip of rolled white papers from the inner pocket of the leather jacket she borrowed. She steps up, handing it over to me.

“What are you doing?”

“You asked me to help you, this is me helping you.”

“I asked you to stand with me.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“So tell me.”

“It’s the contract.”

I frown, snatching it from her extended hand only to toss it to the floor.

“You kinda need to read that.”

“I kinda wanna knock you out.”

She chuckles, but quickly cuts it off, clears her throat and stands tall. Her brown eyes move between mine. “The contract is real, solid. There’s no getting out of it. Every single loophole if one would ever work in this situation was tied up. The Gravens are owed a Brayshaw.”

My nostrils flare, pressure forming between my eyes. “And you just had to restate the obvious?”

She steps closer. “Raven.” Her brows lift slowly. “They’re owed a Brayshaw,” she stresses.

My fingers fly to my temples as I attempt to make sense of it all.

Cap’s hand on my arm has me glancing over my shoulder. “There’s nothing in there about taking the Graven name,” he whispers. “Nor does it say a damn word about a female.”

Trick walks over, grabbing the papers from the floor. His eyes skim the highlighted area and he passes it down the row.

“A Brayshaw,” I whisper, and it hits.

My hand flies to my ribs with a gasp, and I whip around, and our eyes crash into one another’s.

He steps toward me, but I step back.

“I’ve taken over Graven and the Brayshaw lead was passed to me.” I look to the men, needing complete assurance. “Two families had to agree, but I’m both. I get the final say. I get to offer and take what I want.”

“Sounds fair to me,” Alec speaks for the first time and all eyes fly to his.

Slowly, the other members nod in agreement.

“If a Brayshaw weds a Graven, legitimately this time, the contract will be considered fulfilled.”

My eyes snap to Maddoc. “I’m gonna need you to marry me, Big Man.”

His jaw flexes. “For them?”

My eyes soften, and I step toward him, tilting my head back to look at him better. “I don’t give a damn about a contract or making people happy, but I want to be everything my name says I should be, and I want my family safe at all cost,” I say, and his eyes harden. “But at the end of the day, if there’s only one thing I can pull off, then I want it to be keeping you.”

His eyes narrow with his heavy inhale.

“So, what do you say, Big Man? You game?”I shift, looking into the mirror as I grip the necklace the boys gave me last night – the bullet that hit Captain, melted down, reshaped and engraved.

A basketball, our names serving as the threads that create the shape.

The line across the center – Brayshaw. Mine and Maddoc’s on the strip across the center. Captain’s is the curved on the left, Royce’s on the right.

Four tethers, laced together, just like Maddoc’s tattoo. A representation of us all.

My family.

I look to my eyes, half smiling at the girl who stares back. A girl I never really thought I could like, and for the first time ever, I see me. Who I am on the inside. Who I want to be.

I see a Brayshaw.

And I’m about to marry one for real.

I inhale deeply, my hand coming down to cover my stomach as I spin around. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“It’s called you’re pregnant. If you don’t like it, use condoms after this one.”

Both mine and Victoria’s glare flies to Chloe, her head popping up to meet my stare at the same time.

“Sorry,” she forces out slowly. “It’s too natural to—”

“Be a bitch?” Victoria supplies.

Chloe crosses her arms, her head tugging back. “Better than being fake.”

“Are you calling me fake?” Victoria jumps to her feet.

“Seems fitting.”

“Why are you even here?” Victoria snaps back. “You weren’t invited.”

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