Chapter 26 Krystal #2
He leaned in, dropped his voice. "You’re family now. What's mine is yours. And the bar? The apartment? The house, the land, all the stuff you don’t even know about? It’s yours. Not as in ‘I’m being generous,’ but as in, you’re a Beck now. And the Becks take care of their own."
The weight of it almost made me drop the box. "Is this about money?"
He shrugged again, but there was a gentleness to it.
"Kind of. I know you’ve been living on a razor’s edge since Bryce was born.
I know you’ve been taking the bar shifts because the tips are better, and you can still get him from school at three.
You don’t have to do it anymore. Not unless you just want to.
" He ducked his head. "Money's not a problem.
I don't really have to own the bar. I just enjoy it.
Ashton doesn't have to be a vet. It brings him satisfaction. "
The words bounced around my brain. I opened my mouth, then closed it, then tried again. "What would I even do? I don’t know how to not work."
He smiled, small and proud. "Then work here but do it for you. Or work somewhere else. Or don’t. It’s not a debt. There’s enough to float the whole clan for a thousand years, even if you never lifted a finger."
I felt the truth of it, but I didn’t want to believe it. "You’re serious."
"As a heart attack."
My hands shook a little, from the adrenaline or the whiskey or probably the shock. "I’d rather we do it together," I said. "The bar, I mean. I like working with you."
He grinned so wide it was almost comical. "I was hoping you’d say that."
I sat, the air going out of me all at once. "Does Kenneth know?"
"He’s getting promoted to partner next month. His face when I told him." He paused to laugh. "He looked like he wanted to either quit or hug me."
I laughed, picturing it. "He’ll never quit."
"Nope." Zaden glanced at the clock, then at me. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I said, and meant it. "I’m just trying to figure out what it means. To have a future, I guess."
He set his hand over mine, fingers warm and grounding.
"Means we can take Bryce anywhere. Means we can take care of your mom when she’s older.
Means you get to paint the house any color you want, even that green you liked.
" He leaned back. "Would you like a new house, or to add on to your cottage? It's yours. Whatever you want."
The sense of possibility opened up, bright and dizzying. I’d spent so long living day to day, measuring every expense and every risk, that the idea of just being, of having a life not built on fear, felt both dangerous and wild.
I squeezed his hand. "Can I pick the music on Saturdays?"
"You can pick the music every day."
I leaned in, brushing his hair back behind his ear. "Then let’s make it a real bar. With live music and trivia nights and maybe even karaoke."
His face lit up. "You want to sing?"
"Not in public," I said. "But I want to hear you play piano. You promised."
He looked like he wanted to kiss me, but the clatter of trays in the hall reminded us both that we still had a job to do.
I may not need the money anymore, but the people out there who did need the money from tonight's business depended on us to keep the night flowing.
He stood, then helped me up, hand lingering a second too long.
As we stepped into the light of the main room, he whispered, "One more thing. Once Bryce’s magic is under control, we’re taking a trip."
"Where?"
"Wherever you want. Europe, Australia, Brazil. All three. Name it."
I thought of Bryce, cheeks red from kickball, eyes bright with freedom. I thought of myself, tired but not broken, standing at the edge of a new life.
I said, "He’d love Australia. The animals are all weirder than him."
Zaden laughed, deep and pure. "Australia it is."
The rest of the shift passed in a blur of orders and laughter.
The spell of easy Friday night camaraderie broke when Vivienne walked in.
She always picked her moment. Not at the crush of the rush, but just after, when the regulars were deep into their rounds, and the late crowd had settled into their predictable orbits.
She wore a velvet blazer over tailored pants and a top with enough shimmer to catch the bar’s stained-glass lights.
Even her walk, the measured click of her heels across the tile, seemed engineered to draw the right kind of attention.
I was behind the bar, lining up two trays of beers and arguing with Kenneth about the merits of soccer versus baseball, when I spotted her in the mirror. She looked straight at me, her expression half-smile, half-dare, and then took her time winding through the tables to the bar.
"Krystal," she said, perching on a stool with an elegance that made everyone else’s posture look borrowed. "Can I get a Manhattan, heavy on the cherry, please?"
"Of course," I said evenly. I wasn't quite on the same level as Zaden about Vivienne.
He really disliked her. I wasn't her biggest fan, but I thought she had Bryce's best interests at heart.
My hands moved to the whiskey and bitters automatically, but inside, my chest tightened.
The mate bond ran cold, then hot, in the space of a single breath. Zaden had spotted her.
Vivienne made a show of scanning the room, fingers drumming the bar top. "Busy night," she observed. "You seem to be doing well."
"We are," I said, then dropped a single cherry in the glass and slid it to her. "You want a tab, or…?"
She waved a credit card, already prepared. "Tab. You never know how long a girl will want to linger."
Zaden drifted to my side, picking up a rag and polishing the taps, which didn’t need polishing. He stood a foot from her, back rigid, jaw tight, and didn’t say a word.
Vivienne took a careful sip, then set the glass down. "Delicious. Where’s Bryce tonight? Not at Nathan’s, I presume. It’s the first Friday in a month I haven’t seen him with a wolf entourage."
"That’s none of your business," Zaden said, loud enough to freeze the music for a fraction of a second. "He’s not your concern, Vivienne."
She turned to him, her smile fixing, but her eyes flashed, bright and hard. "I only ask because I care. He’s a remarkable boy."
Zaden leaned in, dropping his pretense at civility. "If you really care, you’ll keep your distance."
Vivienne’s hand shook, just a twitch, but she covered it by stirring her drink. "I meant only to offer guidance."
He didn’t let up. "Well, we’re declining the offer. Kindly finish your drink and leave. You’re not welcome here."
A hush descended over the bar. Kenneth shot me a look, asking should he intervene? I gave him a tiny shake of the head.
Vivienne set her drink down, untouched except for that one careful sip. "It’s a public establishment, Zaden."
"It’s my establishment," he said. "And I’m telling you to go."
For a moment, I thought she’d fight back. But something in Zaden’s face, or maybe the air itself, which suddenly felt electrified and dangerous, made her reconsider. She lifted her glass, drained it in one smooth motion, then placed it back on the bar with a practiced clink.
She stood, straightened her jacket, and met my eyes. "If you ever want to talk, you know how to reach me."
I nodded, numb, and watched as she glided out, every step measured and sharp. The silence held until the door swung shut behind her.
Zaden exhaled, chest heaving, then turned to me. "You okay?"
I wiped the bar with a towel, needing to do something with my hands. "Was that really necessary?"
He looked at me, eyes fierce but open. "I don’t trust her. Every instinct I have says she’s playing a game. And I don’t want you or Bryce caught in it."
I thought about the way Vivienne had looked at us, hungry, almost possessive. For the first time, I let myself believe it wasn’t just my own insecurity. Maybe Zaden and his dragon had a point.
"I just don’t want trouble," I said.
He put his hand over mine. The mate bond flickered between us, electric and grounding at the same time. "We won’t get trouble. Not if we stay ahead of it."
I nodded, a slow surrender to his certainty.
Kenneth whistled softly. "Drama tonight," he muttered, then slid a soda down the bar to a waiting customer.
As the night wore on, the tension slowly bled away, replaced by the hum of conversation and the clatter of pint glasses. But I kept one eye on the door, and so did Zaden.
We didn’t talk about Vivienne again that night. There was no need.
But when closing came, and Zaden locked the door behind the last guest, he came around the bar and pulled me in, holding tight until the worry left my muscles and I could breathe again.
"Thanks," I whispered, face buried in his neck.
He laughed, low and private. "For what?"
"For taking my side."
He pulled back, holding my face in both hands. "Always."
We finished the cleanup in silence, side by side, sweeping and stacking and locking up. When the lights went off, the place felt safe, fortified by the simple act of choosing each other.