A Week Later
I stood outside with my key in the lock, that familiar rush of adrenaline running through me.
Every morning it was the same. Unlock, disarm the alarm, claim the space as mine.
So much changed in a short period for me.
And now, at twenty-four, I was finally living.
I’d found my calling and built my own corner in the art world.
If someone had told me two years ago that I would own a tattoo studio, I would have laughed hysterically. Kinsley had her Kings. Victoria had Marcel. We were actively looking for Winter, and I had my Studio.
It had quickly become my haven, my second home. Each day I got the opportunity to express myself through ink and color, turning stories into lifelong marks on people’s skin. It was an extension of me. Something I had no idea I needed.
All my prior artwork was condensed to canvas and sketchbooks, never to see the light of day, especially given the source material. But now my artwork had a purpose, and I got the privilege of helping my clients tell a story.
The freedom I’d birthed extended beyond the four walls. Light flooded the space through the oversized windows, catching on chrome and glass. The walls were layered with framed flashes, commissioned pieces, and bold murals we’d painted ourselves. It was alive—loud in the best way possible.
The jangle of the bell sounded, letting me know Aiden had arrived. He was always the first one in and specialized in watercolor pieces. All the ladies wanted to sit at his station. It didn’t hurt that he was tall, dark, and handsome.
He was already gloving up when Theo and Megan came in an hour later, arguing about where to go this weekend.
Theo was the master of intricate black and gray designs, skillfully adding shadow and depth to his masterpieces.
Megan had an edgy style and a passion for geometric tattoos.
She had someone coming in today to finish up a stunning sleeve.
Together, we were the dream team and complemented each other’s skills. My style was realism, as it allowed me to express myself with both vivid colors and black and gray.
I shuffled around, checking inventory, when the bell sounded again. My head snapped up, and a grin spread across my face. Taking up the entire doorway was Alek. Cocky as fuck with an air of ownership.
I suppose he did in a way, since he and Sebastian had purchased the building together.
“God, I love seeing you here, Bellarusso.”
He strode confidently over and hugged me. I missed him this morning on my way out. He and Kinsley hadn’t made it down for breakfast.
“It’s surreal. Damn near everything is these days for me though. I’m living my best life over here.”
“I hear the girls are trying to get you on MingleMe. The guys and I have a bet on if they’ll succeed or not. How are we feeling about that aspect of things?”
I stared at him long enough for the answer to be obvious.
“Keep your bet fiercely in my corner, Reaper, and you won’t lose anything. Now I’m interested in which of the guys think I’ll actually do it.”
“We know how Bash feels, so we’ll rule him out. Hell, the fucker doesn’t even want in on the bet and you know how he is with those. But the one who thinks you’ll cave happens to be why I’m here.”
I stood back in deep thought. He didn’t need to spell it out. There was only one non-tatted man in the house. He was referring to Pasha. This had been brewing for a while. Things had gotten very serious for him after they rescued Victoria from her house.
Damn, was that only a few short months ago?
It was. Time was flying. One of the ways things had changed was that he’d stepped away from professional dancing altogether.
Then there was the matter of ending things with Hannah.
God, that was one of the biggest blessings aside from Declan and Victoria.
Now none of us had to suffer the jealous shrew’s presence.
“Okay. Kinsley know?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
“Yes. She wasn’t too happy about it. I thought after the last fiasco she understood, but apparently, she isn’t quite ready to relinquish him over to us fully.”
I raised my eyebrows. Kinsley was so protective of Pasha.
It was cute and reminded me of the relationship I had with Sebastian.
And honestly, from what I’d heard, she had no reason to fear him getting hurt.
He had proved not only his ability to stomach what they did, but had found his own brutal groove along the way.
His personality made him larger than life. And he was one of the first people outside the family that I’d let into my circle. Pasha wasn’t remotely intimidated by my sarcasm. Most people flinched. He leaned in. I’d never admit it out loud, but I was grateful for that.
If not for him and that dance intensive in Woodinville, none of us would be standing where we are now. He inadvertently changed the course of all our lives.
A knowing look filled Alek’s eyes. “Yeah, the kid is eager, hell excited even. He’s been non-stop talking about it for weeks.”
I mentally counted how many times I’d sketched the intricate design of his tattoo on his chest. I knew it like the back of my hand by now.
“He does realize this is going to hurt, right?”
“He is aware of that, yes. He mentioned doing something entirely different, though, so I thought a heads up might be nice.”
“I appreciate that. Did he tell you what he’s wanting?” I asked somewhat nervously. I liked the previous one. It told a story. One that I was a part of since I designed the original sketch.
“He did. I see that look. Don’t worry, it will still have all the symbolism you love. Just make it fierce. It needs to—”
“Represent the squad. I’ve got this. It won’t be fluffy or cute. I leave that theme for your girl.”
He smiled affectionately, and then his tone shifted. A hint of concern crept in. “Listen, there’s something else. Hannah’s been showing up at the club.”
I narrowed my eyes. Alek didn’t give idle warnings, and this was precisely what it felt like. He wouldn’t have mentioned it if he didn’t think it could potentially be an issue.
“Why? Don’t tell me he’s getting back with her?”
“No. He’s pretty solid in his desire to not go there anymore. But keep an eye out, okay? I know you hate unnecessary drama as much as I do.”
“Well, since I’m not the one she took issue with, I’ll be fine. Is Kinsley coming in with him? Is that why you’re warning me?”
It made complete sense. My tattoo studio was right next door to Kinsley and Pasha’s dance studio. When Alek bought the property several months back, he insisted I take the second half. When we toured it originally, I was confused.
Kinsley had been excited, but as she laid out plans, she ignored half the space. I’m ashamed to say it took me almost half the tour to realize Alek wanted me to have this side. That was how a whirlwind of opportunity opened to me.
I’d been taking tattooing instruction from a private instructor at the house, another one of Alek’s requests, for months before the tour.
He did it under the guise of wanting a new tattoo.
And Marcel jumped on the bandwagon because Tori needed to cover up the hideous mark her ex had inflicted on her.
Hell, even the staff were all people Alek knew and trusted. It made things much easier for me. The beauty in it was deeper than anyone could know. All these years later, Kinsley and I still shared a wall.
I grew pensive as I studied Alek’s face. He gave a slight nod, and it underscored the seriousness. It also made me wonder if he had overheard them arguing at the club the night before. Not my monkey. Not my circus.
“I’ll keep them in check. She should know better, though. I’m not Kinsley by any stretch of the imagination. I will cut her.”
I said it lightly. Mostly. He laughed, and the familiar sound echoed in the studio. Megan startled; her head snapped up. She gave me an odd look. I had to remind myself that this side of Alek was familiar to me. The rest of the world only ever saw the menace.
“I told you he’s as human as the rest of us.”
Alek’s face went stoic. He turned his gaze to Megan.
“Don’t believe a word she says.” He practically growled it. I punched his arm.
“Stop, you’ll have her in tears any second.”
“It’s what I do best. And speaking of tears, I’m dropping in next door for a bit. See if I can’t make someone else cry. The best part of that studio is the private room in the back.”
I shook my head. “Isn’t it Nik’s night?”
“Yeah, but technically it’s daytime.”
“You’re so bad. Go.”
“The kid…he wants an animal. Start brainstorming now. It needs flair.”
A grin spread across my face. Excitement bubbled inside my chest. An animal. My brain flicked through options automatically. Wolf. Falcon. Bear. Then it came to me. A lion. It would be perfect—a symbol of strength, courage, and his untamed spirit. It defined him. “I can work with that.”
“Good, because he insists you have free rein. I say surprise him.”
The challenge ignited a spark of creativity in me, and my mind raced with possibilities. It would need to incorporate a skull.
“I’ll come up with something that’ll blow his mind,” I declared, my fingers reaching for the pad I kept near my station. “Something legendary.”
Alek reached over and grabbed the back of my head, and kissed the top of it. “I know you will. You’ve got that look in your eyes.”
He straightened and didn’t offer a glance at Megan on his way out.
His mind was already on Kinsley next door.
I immersed myself in the creative process, and a nervous anticipation built.
This wasn’t just ink on skin. It was going to tell a story, leave a mark that he’d have for the remainder of his life.
“Legendary and epic in size,” I mumbled.
With every stroke of the pen, my confidence grew. The lion would roar, and not just on Pasha’s skin. It would be proof that he belonged to us. He was family.