“So you think I’m your property?”she sassed.
I leveled a gaze at her. She knew what this meant. She’d grown up in the club. “I want to make you mine in every way, Hellcat.”
Before she could quip back, I reached into my pocket and snapped open the velvet box.
Merci gasped as the marquis-cut bloodred ruby inside caught the light. I took her left hand and slid the ring slowly over her knuckle.
“This ring is you. Sharp edges. Tough as hell. The color is what drew me in. It reminds me that you’re a fighter. That you’re not afraid of drawing blood. That if anyone ever hurts you again, we’ll make them bleed together. Marry me, Hellcat.”
She stared at the ring, her breath hitching, and then lifted her fierce eyes to mine.
“Yes,” she whispered.
* * *
The next day, I floated through the clubhouse in a strange haze of happiness and contentment. I never thought I’d be engaged, raising a kid and a dog. But, here I was, all domesticated and shit.
Thane called Church early that morning after an ominous package showed up at the gates.
When the meeting was called to order, he set a small cedar box on the table. The soft click of the latch echoed through the room as he opened it. Inside lay an envelope stamped with Luca’s family insignia with a single black rose atop it.
The Mafia.
“What’s in the envelope?” Merrick asked, his voice tight with dread.
“Haven’t opened it yet,” Thane said. “Want to do the honors?”
Merrick reached in and set the rose aside. He lifted the envelope and broke the wax seal before pulling out a card.
He held it in the air before us. On the front was St. Jude—the patron saint of lost causes, with a verse on the back. But the card hadbeen half-burned, the feet of the intercessor having been licked by a flame and turned to ash.
“Mercy, peace, and love be yours in abundance.” — Jude 1:2
“What does it mean?” I asked quietly.
Fuse’s voice was deadly calm. “It means mercy and peace are behind us. They’re telling us that they’ll hold our feet to the fire.”
Reaper leaned forward, elbows on the table. “We knew this was a possibility. The question is, how much do they know?”
Merrick’s jaw tightened. “If they’ve got someone even half as good as Linc, they’ve probably figured out what happened to Merci—and that Luca never made it to Italy. They’re reading between the lines.”
“So, what do we do now?”
“Nothing yet,” Thane growled. His glare cut through me, and I snapped my mouth shut. While Merrick had settled into the new reality that Merci and I were together, clearly my president needed a bit more time.
“We wait,” Merrick said. “They made the first move. They want us to react. We keep this quiet. We tighten security. We keep eyes on our women at all times.”
My stomach clenched. Women and children were off limits as pawns in wars between MCs, but the Mafia didn’t play by the same rules. They used them to send messages. To hurt their enemies.
“Eva’s going to be pissed to be on lockdown again,” Reaper mused. “She’ll lead an old lady revolution.”
“It’s for their own damn good,” Thane rumbled. “If the Mafia wants a war, then we’ll give them one. On our terms.”
As I stared at the wilting rose, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t the only thing that would die before the dust settled.
After Thane slammed the gavel to end the meeting, I joined Fuse for a drink in the quiet of the clubhouse bar. The music was low, and most of the guys were gone for the night.
“Thane’s still pissed,” I observed, dropping onto a stool.
