Page 101 of The Price of Love

She’s full of orders. It’s what Wiz does best. But I’ve had years of practice with Margot, who only speaks in orders. I focus my gaze on her chin.

“This is a serious breach of protocol. Of club rules.”

Funny, it wasn’t when Wiz asked me to do it. Something else I won’t say. “Okay.” That’s all I’ve got.

“Okay? That’s fucking it? Jesus, Shadow.”

My reaction seems to infuriate her, but I’m not sure what else I can do. I take a deep breath. “I’m unsure what you’d like me to say.”

“Are the pictures of you?”

I lift my gaze to her eyes. Does she expect me to deny it? Claim it was AI-generated? “Yes.”

She leans forward and tilts her head, so her ear is toward me. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, it’s me in the pictures.”

“You’re not even going to explain?”

“What’s there to explain?” Maybe it’s my years with Margot when nothing I ever said was enough, or maybe I know my actions are indefensible.

“What were you doing?”

Finally, a question I can answer. “I was serving food and beverages.”

“It looks like you were in the middle of a brawl.”

Not in a cocktail dress. “There was a minor disturbance, but—”

She jabs her finger on one picture. “This isn’t the Thorns’ clubhouse. Where is it?”

Shit. I’m not sure if Storm would want me to answer, so I stay mum.

After sitting in silence for what felt like an eternity, Wiz says, “You were at an illegal poker game hosted by the Thorns. Illegal. Do you understand the implications?”

“Yes, President.”

“I’m not so sure you do. Explain it.”

“As you said earlier, you view this as a breach of club protocol.” I keep my voice even, though my insides are shaking.

“Do you?”

My mind races. “My opinion doesn’t matter. Enforcing club protocol is the officers’ responsibility.”

Her nostrils flare, and I’m pretty sure she could crack a walnut in her jaws. “Do you have any defense for your actions?”

“No, President.”

“You better come up with something fast.” She picks up the pictures, shoves them into the envelope, and tosses them at me. “This issue isn’t over.”

I drop my head and stare at my hands. “I understand.”

“Get the hell out of my office.” She stands. “I’ll let you know when I can get the officers together.”

I rise and wrestle with whether I should say more. Since the Steel Graces stress God first, family second, and club third, I say, “I have my girls next Sunday. Margot has an event at her law office.”

“So noted.”