11. Cassie
Cassie
I turn over and the bed's empty beside me. Ethan must have slipped out already, though part of me hoped he'd have stayed a little longer this morning, wrapped around me like last night never had to end.
The door opens before I can talk myself into worrying. "Damn, you're awake. I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed."
He's got a tray balanced in one hand, with coffee and toast, and I push myself up against the headboard to make room. He sits beside me and hands it over.
"Listen, babe." His voice shifts. "I know we just had the ceremony yesterday, but I've got to sit in on the meeting with your brothers today.
They had a good time last night, I know, but that doesn't mean they're not walking in wanting something.
There was probably already some arrangement in place with Pablo, territory, money, something.
We're ready to negotiate. I'd rather spend today in this bed with you, for what it's worth. "
"I'd rather that too." I set the coffee down before my hands can shake around it. "Just be careful. Don't offer them more than you should. I'm not worth a war."
"You're worth whatever they ask for." He cups my face in one hand, thumb brushing my cheekbone. "That's exactly why Prez wants me in that room, because he knows I'd hand over anything they wanted to keep you mine."
He kisses me, slow and certain, and for a second I let myself believe that's enough to make the day ahead less frightening.
We eat breakfast tangled together, toast crumbs on the sheets neither of us bothers about.
"Now that the immediate threat's gone, more or less," I say, "can we talk about moving into my place?
I love it here, I do, but I grew up with a whole house to myself and this room feels like a shoebox some days. "
He goes still, the tray balanced on his knees. "You want me to move in with you?"
"Of course I do. You're my husband." The word still feels strange and good in my mouth at the same time.
"I was gonna ask Prez about building us something out back.
There's a stretch of land past the tree line that'd be perfect for it.
But if you want your place instead, we can absolutely do that.
" He runs a hand through his hair. "Staying here means you've got the old ladies around whenever the club rides out, though. That's worth something too."
"What if we compromise? Move into mine while the house gets built, then move again once it's ready. We could sell my place, or rent it out, bring in a little extra." I watch his face for a reaction. "What do you think?"
"I think that's perfect, babe." He kisses me again, softer this time. "I love you."
"I love you too."
He has to shower and dress fast after that, the morning already slipping away from us, and I sit curled in his sheets a while longer, listening to the water running, trying to memorize the ordinary sound of it before the day turns into something else entirely.
By the time I make it downstairs, the kitchen's already busy, Cash is flipping something on the stove that's definitely burning while Ramsay heckles him about it from the table, and the ordinary noise of it steadies me more than I expect.
Men are filing toward Prez's office one by one, their faces set in a way I haven't seen on any of them since the standoff yesterday.
Prez pauses at the doorway by Ethan, one hand briefly on his shoulder, and I catch just enough of it to hear him say something like, "You'll do fine, this one's easy compared to some I've sat through," before he moves on down the hall.
Ethan finds me at the bottom of the stairs and kisses me hard, like he's stocking up.
"Won't be long," he says, though we both know that's not a promise he can actually make.
I watch him disappear down the hall with Prez, Knuckles, Brax, and Shadow trailing behind, and then the door shuts, and I'm left standing in a kitchen full of women who all know exactly how I'm feeling because every single one of them has stood in this spot before, waiting on a decision that could reshape their whole life.
"Come sit." Rosie pulls out a chair at the table without waiting for me to answer. "Pacing the linoleum doesn't make it go any faster. Believe me, I've tried."
"I hate this part." I sit anyway, because my legs are shaking too hard to argue. "In my old house, decisions like this got made behind closed doors too, except nobody ever bothered explaining them to me after. I was just supposed to live with whatever came out of that room."
"It’s a different world in here." Cam slides a mug across the table to me, and I know it’s something stronger than coffee. "These men actually come out and tell their women what happened. Sometimes you have to drag it out of them, but they tell you."
"I used to be the one who kept the books for my family." I turn the mug slow between my hands. "I knew everything, every debt, every deal, and none of them ever thought to ask my opinion on any of it. I was just supposed to keep the numbers straight and stay quiet."
"That's not how it works here." Meg leans forward, serious for once. "You're not staff, Cassie. You're one of us now. Whatever they decide in there, you'll hear it straight from Ethan's mouth within the hour, not filtered through anybody else's version of it."
I want to believe that as easily as she says it. Some old, worn-down part of me keeps waiting for the catch anyway.
The minutes crawl. Lily-Rose brings out fabric swatches for a wedding that already happened, insisting we still owe ourselves proper photos, spreading them across the table like the fate of the free world hinges on whether we go with ivory or actual white.
"You'll want the photos eventually," she says, patient with my only half-listening.
"Trust me. I didn't get real ones from my own wedding for two years, and I still regret every single day I put it off. "
Rosie tells a story about the first time she sat outside this exact office waiting on Prez, some trouble with a rival club years back, guns nearly drawn in the yard before cooler heads won out, and she tells it with so much dry humor woven through the fear of it that by the time she gets to the punchline I've almost forgotten to be afraid myself.
Cash wanders through partway into it, stealing a piece of bacon off my plate without asking, and gets swatted at by three different women at once for the trouble.
"I forget how loud this kitchen gets some mornings." I find myself smiling despite everything.
"Wait till there's a full house for Sunday dinner." Meg grins. "You'll be begging for quiet by dessert."
Almost.
Then the door down the hall opens, and I hear boots in the hallway, more than one set, moving with men who've just decided something big.
I'm on my feet before I've told my body to move, and Ethan rounds the corner first, eyes finding mine across the kitchen like I'm the only thing in the room worth looking at.
Whatever happened in there, I'm about to find out all of it. No filter. No version softened for my benefit.
I realize, standing there waiting for him to reach me, that this is the first time in my entire life somebody's about to walk out of a closed-door meeting and tell me the truth on purpose.