Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
hades
Waking up with Evangeline in my arms feels like a gift I don't deserve. She's curled against my chest, her breathing soft and steady, the bruise on her cheek a stark reminder of why I'm going to make Ethan Morrison disappear.
The kids are still asleep. Thankfully, they didn't notice their aunt's discomfort last night. They saw the bruises forming, but Evangeline was able to divert the conversation and asked the kids about their play date with Wren.
"You're staring," Evangeline murmurs without opening her eyes.
"Can't help it."
"Creepy."
"You love it."
She opens one eye, then the other, and despite the bruising, despite everything that happened yesterday, she's smiling. "Maybe a little."
I press a gentle kiss to her forehead, careful of her injuries. "How are you feeling?"
"Sore, but better than yesterday."
"Good. Because I'm making breakfast, and you're going to sit there and let me take care of you."
"Is that an order?"
"Absolutely."
Her smile widens, and something warm and possessive curls in my chest. This is what I want.
Every morning, every day, every moment I can get with her.
We move to the kitchen and she settles on a barstool while I start pulling out ingredients. It's domestic and ordinary, and under different circumstances, it would be perfect.
"Pancakes?" she asks, watching me work.
"Jake mentioned they're his favorite."
"You remember that?"
"I remember everything about them. About you."
The admission makes her cheeks flush, and I have to resist the urge to kiss her again, later, when the kids aren't about to wake up, when we have time to do it properly.
"Can I help?" she asks.
"You can keep me company. That's help enough."
She watches me work, and there's something intimate about it. The casual touches as I move around the kitchen, the way she leans into me when I pass by, the small smiles we exchange that feel like secrets.
This is what life could be like. Should be like.
If I don't fuck it up.
The kids start filtering in around eight, drawn by the smell of pancakes and bacon. They're still half-asleep, disheveled and adorable, and watching Evangeline with them makes my chest tight with emotions I'm not ready to examine.
"Uncle Hades made breakfast!" Lily announces, climbing into her chair. "With chocolate chips!"
"Because someone mentioned they were her favorite," I say, serving her a stack.
"You spoil them," Evangeline says, but there's no criticism in it. Just affection.
"Someone has to."
We eat together, all seven of us, and it feels like a preview of what our future could look like. Loud, chaotic, full of laughter and spilled juice and arguments over who gets the last piece of bacon.
Perfect.
My phone buzzes with a text from Ghost, and reality crashes back in.
Ghost: Need to talk. Important.
"I've got to make a call," I tell Evangeline. "Club business. You okay here for a bit?"
"We're fine. Go."
I head outside, closing the door before dialing Ghost's number.
"Talk to me," I say when he picks up.
"Morrison's making moves. Our contacts say he's been asking around about you, about the club, about weak points in our security."
My blood turns to ice. "He's planning something."
"Yeah. And after what he did to Evangeline yesterday, we can't wait any longer."
"I know."
"Tempest has the plan ready. Clean, quick, no blowback. We can move tonight if you give the word."
Tonight. Less than twelve hours from now, Ethan Morrison will cease to be a threat. The problem will be solved, Evangeline and the kids will be safe, and I'll have blood on my hands that I can never wash off.
"Do it," I say. "But I want to be there when it goes down."
"That's not smart, brother. You're too close to this."
"I don't care. He hurt her. I need to look him in the eye when we end him."
Ghost is quiet for a moment. "Alright. But if this goes sideways, if you hesitate because of her—"
"I won't hesitate."
"Good. Meet at the clubhouse at six. We'll go over the details then."
I'm about to hang up when he adds, "Oh, and Hades? The gate at your place, it's not installed correctly. Anyone with basic knowledge could get through it. You need to get that fixed before we move on Morrison."
"What?"
"The security gate. It's not properly set up. That's probably how he got in yesterday without triggering any alarms."
Fuck. I'd noticed something was off when the crew finished installation last week, but I was too distracted to follow up on it.
"I'll handle it today; get someone out here to fix it properly."
"Do that. And Hades? Keep them close until this is done."
"I will."
I end the call and lean back against the wall, processing everything. Tonight, Ethan dies. The threat ends, Evangeline stays safe, and I become the kind of man who kills to protect what's his.
The question is: will she still want me when she finds out?
"Hades?" Evangeline's voice from the doorway makes me look up. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Just club stuff."
But she's looking at me with those perceptive green eyes, and I can tell she doesn't entirely believe me.
"What kind of club stuff?"
"Nothing you need to worry about."
"That's not an answer."
I stand and move toward her. "Angel, there are things about my life, about the club, that I can't always share. Not because I don't trust you, but because—"
"Because the less I know, the safer I am?"
"Something like that."
She studies my face, and I can see her weighing whether to push or let it go. Finally, she nods.
"Okay. But if something's happening, something that affects me or the kids, I need to know."
"I promise."
The lie tastes like ash in my mouth, but I tell it anyway. Because the truth—that I'm about to orchestrate her ex-fiancé's murder—isn't something she's ready to hear.
"The gate," I say, changing the subject. "It wasn't installed correctly. That's how Ethan got in yesterday without triggering alarms."
"Can we fix it?"
"Already on it. I've got a crew coming this afternoon to make sure it's properly secured. No one's getting in here without us knowing about it."
"Thank you."
She steps closer, and despite everything weighing on me, I can't resist pulling her into my arms. She fits perfectly, like she was made to be there.
"I won't let him hurt you again," I murmur against her hair. "Whatever it takes."
"I know."
But she doesn't know. She has no idea what I'm willing to do, what lines I'm willing to cross, to keep her safe.
The rest of the morning passes in relative peace. The crew arrives to fix the gate, and I spend an hour making sure it's done right this time. Proper wiring, correct security codes, backup systems in case of power failure.
By the time they leave, my property is as secure as it's going to get.
I'm in the kitchen making lunch when I hear Evangeline's footsteps stop in the hallway. When I look up, she's standing frozen, her face pale, staring at her phone.
"What's wrong?"
She doesn't answer, just hands me her phone. On the screen is a text from an unknown number. No words, just a photo.
A surveillance photo of my house, taken from across the street. In the picture, Evangeline is visible through the window, holding Lily, both of them laughing at something.
The timestamp is from this morning.
Someone's been watching us.
"When did you get this?" I ask, my voice deadly calm.
"Just now. Who would—"
"Morrison."
"Are you sure?"
"Who else would be watching the house, taking pictures of you and the kids?"
Her hand shakes as she takes the phone back. "He's trying to scare me."
"It's working."
"What do we do?"
This is it. The moment where I either tell her the truth or keep lying to protect her from what's coming.
"We handle it," I say carefully.
"How?"
"Let me worry about that."
"Hades, this isn't just about me anymore. He's taking pictures of the children. What if he does something crazy?"
"He won't get the chance."
"How can you promise that?"
"Because I'm going to take him out."
The words slip out before I can stop them, raw and honest and absolutely damning. Evangeline's eyes widen, and I watch comprehension dawn across her face.
"Take him out," she repeats slowly. "You mean..."
"I mean he won't be a problem anymore."
"You're going to kill him."
It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "Yes."
The silence that follows is deafening. She's staring at me like she's never seen me before, like I've just revealed myself to be a monster instead of a protector.
"That's not how normal people solve problems," she says finally.
"I'm not normal people. And this isn't a normal problem."
"There are other ways. Police, restraining orders, legal channels—"
"That won't work. Morrison has connections, money, the kind of influence that makes evidence disappear and witnesses have accidents."
"So your solution is murder?"
"My solution is eliminating a threat to my family."
"By becoming a murderer yourself?"
The accusation hits harder than it should, probably because part of me agrees with her. There's a difference between violence in self-defense and premeditated killing, and I'm about to cross that line.
"He killed your brother," I say quietly. "Had Calla murdered because she found out what he was doing. You think he's going to stop with harassment and intimidation? You think he won't escalate until someone else dies?"
"You don't know that he killed Marcus and Calla."
"Yeah, I do. I've seen the evidence."
"What evidence?"
This is where I should stop, should deflect and change the subject. But looking at her bruised face, thinking about those kids upstairs who trust me to keep them safe, I can't bring myself to keep lying.
"Your brother found out Morrison was laundering money for criminal organizations.
Calla discovered the connection to Ivy Bennett, how Morrison was using stolen MC intelligence to build his network.
They were planning to tell you everything, to help you understand what kind of man you were marrying. "
"That's not possible."
"It's all documented. Bank records, financial trails, witness statements. Morrison had them killed to keep you in the dark, to maintain his access to your connections, your social circle."
She's shaking her head, backing away from me. "No. That's not... Ethan's not a killer."
"He hired killers. Which amounts to the same thing."
"I don't believe you."
"Then look at the evidence. I've got copies of everything in my safe. Financial records showing payments to Ivy Bennett for information about the Saints. Communication logs between Morrison and known criminals. The PI's investigation that your sister-in-law commissioned before she died."
"Why didn't you tell me this before?"
"Because I was trying to protect you."
"From what? The truth?"
"From the knowledge that you almost married a man who had your brother murdered."
The words hang between us like a blade, sharp and unforgiving. I watch her process it, see the exact moment she realizes I'm telling the truth.
"Show me," she says finally. "Show me the evidence."
"Angel—"
"Show me."
I lead her to my office, open the safe, and pull out the folder Walsh gave me. She reads through it with shaking hands, her face growing paler with each document.
"Oh my God," she whispers. "Oh my God, this is real."
"I'm sorry."
"He killed them. Ethan killed Marcus and Calla."
"Yes."
She looks up at me with tears streaming down her face. "And you were going to kill him without telling me why?"
"I was going to keep you safe. That's all that matters."
"That's not all that matters! I had a right to know what he did, to understand why—" She breaks off, pressing a hand to her mouth. "I was going to marry him. I almost..."
"But you didn't. You chose to leave, to build a life with those kids, to..."
"To fall in love with you," she finishes quietly.
The admission should make me happy, but right now it just makes everything more complicated.
"I'll protect you however I have to, Angel. Even if you hate me for it."
"I don't hate you. I'm terrified of what this means, of what you're planning to do, but I don't hate you."
"Then trust me to handle this. Let me eliminate the threat so you and those kids can finally be safe."
She's quiet for a long moment, staring at the documents spread across my desk. Finally, she nods.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Do what you have to do. But Hades?" She looks up at me with those green eyes that see straight through to my soul. "Don't lie to me again. Whatever happens, whatever you have to do, I need to know about it."
"Even if it destroys how you see me?"
"Especially then."
The promise settles between us, heavy with implications. Tonight, I'll become the kind of man who kills without hesitation. And she'll have to decide if she can live with that.
If she can love me anyway.
My phone buzzes with another text. This time it's a photo of me, taken through my office window just moments ago. In the picture, I'm standing exactly where I am now, visible to anyone watching from the street.
The message beneath it is simple: Soon.
Morrison's not just watching anymore. He's promising action.
"We need to move," I tell Evangeline. "Get the kids, pack essentials. You're all staying at the clubhouse until this is handled."
"The clubhouse?"
"It's the most secure location I've got. Brothers on site twenty-four seven, surveillance that actually works, no blind spots for snipers or surveillance."
"You think he'd try to shoot us?"
"I think he's desperate, and desperate men do stupid things. I'm not taking any chances."
She nods, her face resolute despite the fear in her eyes. "Okay. Let me get the kids ready."
As she heads upstairs, I pull out my phone and dial Ghost.
"Change of plans," I say when he answers. "We're moving tonight's timeline up. I want Morrison dealt with by sundown."
"That's aggressive."
"He's escalating. Just sent surveillance photos, including ones taken in the last five minutes. He's got people watching the house right now."
"Fuck. Alright, I'll coordinate with the others. But Hades? This goes down fast and dirty, there's more risk of blowback."
"I'll handle the blowback. Just make sure he doesn't survive to threaten my family again."
"Consider it done."
I hang up and move to the window, scanning the street for signs of surveillance. Nothing obvious, but that doesn't mean they're not there.
Tonight, this ends.
One way or another, Ethan Morrison dies, and Evangeline gets to decide if she can live with the man who made it happen.
I just hope I'm worth choosing.