Chapter Thirty-Two

TRINITY

I was in a state of shock.

When Stephen suggested a night out with friends, I never imagined this. I never imagined him, on one knee, surrounded by the people we love most, asking me to spend the rest of my life with him. I should’ve seen it coming—the quiet dinner plan, the champagne, the way Clint, and Mia had been watching me all evening like they knew something I didn’t.

But this? This moment? I never expected.

My body moved before my brain could catch up, sliding out of the booth to the floor to meet him, our fingers lacing instinctively. I could feel the pressure in my chest, the overwhelming emotion threatening to take me under.

“Stephen,” I whispered, trying to catch my breath. “Are you sure?”

I held his hands, searching his face. “I thought we agreed … that you were going to talk to—”

I tipped my chin subtly in Clint’s direction. A reminder. A last check before this turned into something neither of us could take back.

But Stephen only smiled, his knuckles brushing lovingly against my cheek.

“It’s okay. We did,” he nodded, reassuring me with every steady word. “Who do you think encouraged me to do this? And why I did it now?”

My eyes widened, shooting toward Clint and Mia. They both beamed back at me. Mia’s face crumpled with emotion as a tear spilled freely, her hands tightening around Clint’s arm. They nodded—soft, knowing, ~certain~.

“It’s time, hun,” Clint said warmly, his voice just as sure as Stephen’s. “Now give your poor man an answer before you give him a heart attack.”

The laughter bubbled through my tears as I turned back to the man on his knees, the man who had shaken my world and somehow also made it whole.

“Yes, Stephen. It would be an honour to call myself your wife.”

The world around us erupted.

Cheers. Clapping. Laughter. Whoops and hollers from Clint and Luke. I barely heard any of it. All I could feel was Stephen sliding the ring onto my finger—hands trembling, eyes glossy with emotion—as he pulled me into his arms.

“I love you,” I whispered as I kissed him. “Thank you for making my dreams come true.”

“I love you, Trinity Reffett,” he replied against my lips, voice thick. “You are my dream. I live it every day with you.”

***

He didn’t let go of me all night.

We drank. We laughed. We kissed. We danced under the stars in the courtyard of Capulet until the early hours. We were glowing with that rarest of highs—belonging.

Eventually, we said goodbye to Luke and Todd and headed home, the four of us giddy and tangled in comfort clothes and celebration. Stephen and Clint lit up out on the patio while Mia and I fetched wine and snacks, floating on air.

The air buzzed with joy.

Until it didn’t.

The back door opened and in walked Dave, Chad, and Mike.

“Private party, boss?” Dave grinned as he stepped out, clearly having walked in mid-laughter.

“Not at all, boys. Pull up a seat,” Stephen replied easily, already shifting into business mode. His voice was calm, but I caught the glance he shared with Clint. That look.

Something was coming.

“I’ve got a few things I need to discuss with you all.” He nodded toward the bag and blunts Clint had dropped on the table. “Roll up. Let’s talk.”

Everyone settled in. I felt Stephen’s hand on my thigh—firm, grounding.

He cleared his throat, took a long draw, and passed the blunt to me. Then he spoke.

“Right. First and most important … Tonight, I asked Trinity to marry me. And she said yes.”

More cheers. Fist bumps. Back slaps. Congratulations all around. Chad was grinning. Dave looked genuinely thrilled. Even Mike offered his best wishes with a handshake and a smile.

But something about Mike’s eyes made my stomach twist.

Stephen smiled and nodded his thanks. Then the room shifted.

“And that brings me to the second reason we’re here tonight,” he continued, taking another slow hit. “With Clint and Mia just married … and now Trinity and I looking ahead to our future, I’ve decided it’s time.”

The table went still.

“It’s over. I’m shutting operations down.”

A beat of silence.

“I know it’s sudden, but it’s not a decision made lightly. It’s about our families. Our futures. Not just mine and Clint’s—but all of yours, too.”

The silence dragged, suffocating. I held my breath.

Then finally—relief.

“Thank ~fuck~ for that,” Dave burst out, grinning, laughter bubbling up as he ran a hand through his hair. “No offence, boys, but I’m done. I want a house, a dog, maybe a normal job that doesn’t involve getting shot at.”

“You and me both,” Chad nodded, relaxed, lighting up another blunt. “Tired of looking over my shoulder.”

But Mike … Mike didn’t say a word.

He was too calm. Too neutral. His eyes flicked toward Stephen, then to Clint. Something simmered just beneath the surface.

And I saw it—the shared look between Stephen and Clint. That same unspoken tension. They ~felt~ it too.

Something wasn’t right.

We all chatted a bit longer, the laughter returning slowly. Mike was the first to stand. He left with no fanfare, no drink in hand, no goodnight. Eventually, Dave and Chad called it a night.

As soon as he disappeared, the tone shifted again.

“Thoughts?” Clint asked once the door closed behind them.

“Chad surprised me,” Stephen muttered. “Mike though...”

“We’re missing something,” Clint said, eyes narrowed.

“Missing something?” I asked, finally breaking the silence. I looked between them. “What’s going on?”

Stephen glanced at Clint, then took my hand gently.

“I’m sorry. We should’ve told you and Mia sooner.”

They told us everything.

The missing product. The bait packages. The meeting they’d witnessed between Chad and Mike. The gun. The look in Chad’s eyes. The silence that followed. The danger that had been lingering in the shadows—inside our very home.

“Now, do you see?” Clint asked, looking straight at me. “Why we had no problem walking away?”

“Yeah…” Mia blinked wide-eyed. “That’s some crazy shit.”

We all laughed. Just for a second. Just to breathe.

Eventually, Mia and I went upstairs, leaving the boys to talk business. But my thoughts stayed down there, circling like vultures. We were so close to peace. To freedom. But something told me … this wasn’t over.

Not yet.

***

STEPHEN

“So did you speak to Barcelona?” Clint asked, his voice low and measured as soon as he was satisfied the girls had disappeared from earshot.

“Yeah, all sorted.” I nodded, firm in my answer. “We break this shit down tomorrow—ship it out, collect, and shut shop.”

“Cheers to that.” Clint raised his glass, the sound of it clinking against mine the soft anthem of a chapter ending.

Another drink. Another smoke. Just two brothers sealing the last night of a life we were ready to leave behind.

Eventually, we packed up and headed to bed. The weight of the decision behind us and the promise of what came next lay ahead.

When I woke the next morning, the soft curve of Trinity’s bare shoulder peeked through the sheets, her body curled in peaceful slumber. Her presence beside me—safe, warm, mine—filled me with a kind of gratitude I’d never known before.

I brushed her hair gently off her cheek and pressed a lingering kiss to her temple before easing out of bed. Downstairs, the boys were already waiting, standing around the kitchen like the last crew out on a final mission.

“Morning, boys.” My voice was lighter than it had been in months. “Let’s grab coffee and get this done. I want to smash out this last stock so we can move it all tonight. Be done with it.”

A chorus of grunts and affirmations followed as we headed off to get sorted. Half an hour. That’s all we needed.

I climbed back upstairs to find Trinity stirring, her long lashes fluttering as she blinked sleepily up at me.

I couldn’t help myself.

I dove onto the bed, smothering her in kisses, laughing into her skin as her soft giggles broke the morning air.

“Good morning, future Mrs. Gotti,” I whispered against her lips, hovering above her.

“Good morning, future husband.” Her voice was soft and full of joy.

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” I murmured, already craving the quiet that would come after the chaos. I leaned down again, kissing her slowly, feeling the softness of her lips give way to the familiar heat of her affection.

Her hands gripped my sides gently, keeping me close. “The boys and I are heading down to get the last of the stock sorted. We want to move it out tonight. Clean slate.”

She nodded, a smile playing on her lips. Her eyes sparkled with understanding. “From tomorrow, I’m all yours to plan our wedding.”

“I love you saying that,” she teased back, voice still husky from sleep.

“I love you,” I said again, softer now, like a vow. Our kiss was slower this time, reverent. Then I forced myself to pull away.

Duty called—for the last time.

When I arrived at the shed, the boys didn’t need prompting. We got straight to work. Everyone knew what this day meant. Within two and a half hours, the final cuts were done, the packages secured, and the room that had once run my world was now just a building. Just four walls and a floor that would soon be empty.

I locked up behind them once they were all out.

“Mate, hold up a minute.” Clint’s voice halted me.

I turned. Something in his tone pulled me out of the haze of accomplishment.

“Go grab some lunch and a rest, boys,” I called over my shoulder. “We roll out at six and get this done.”

They nodded, no questions asked, and disappeared like smoke into the daylight.

Once they were out of sight, I turned back to Clint. “So what’s up?”

“Mike,” he said. That was all.

“I noticed it too.” I crossed my arms, the unease creeping back into my spine. “Can’t put my finger on what it is exactly. Chad’s reaction … It was too easy. That’s not the behaviour of someone with something to lose.”

“Exactly,” Clint said. “So we split them tonight. I’ll go with Mike. You take Chad and Dave.”

I nodded. “I like that idea.”

We bumped fists—a wordless contract between brothers.

Back at the house, the air had shifted back into ease. Comfort. Laughter. We stepped into the warmth of home, and Clint made a beeline straight for his wife, scooping Mia up in one fluid motion.

“I’ll see you at six,” he called, grinning like a teenager. “Turn the television or music up if you’re staying down here!”

Mia squealed as he smacked her ass. The door closing behind them with a thud of joy.

I turned to see Trinity leaning against the kitchen bench, that devilish smirk tugging at her mouth.

“I was thinking I might use the hot tub,” she said, her tone soft and inviting. “Wanna join me?”

“Like you even had to ask,” I said, pulling her in by the waist. Her warmth melted into mine as I crushed my mouth to hers.

“Any excuse to see you half naked,” I added, one hand sliding down to get a full, unapologetic grip on her ass.

***

TRINITY

After a relaxing hour in the tub, Stephen had hopped out ahead of me. I stayed in a little longer, letting the water soothe me, enjoying the rare peace. When I finally made my way back into the house, I couldn’t find him anywhere.

The house was quiet—too quiet.

I padded barefoot down the timber-floored hallway, each step echoing in my ears as unease rose in my chest. I was heading toward the kitchen when I spotted Mike. He was leaning against the marble island bench, arms folded, watching me.

But still … no Stephen.

“Hey, Trin,” he said casually, like nothing was off.

“Hi, Mike,” I replied, my tone cautious. “Have you seen Stephen?”

He looked up at me, and for the briefest moment, his gaze pinned me in place. There was something heavy behind his stare—something that didn’t belong. My breath caught.

“Yeah, he headed to the warehouse,” he said, jerking his thumb toward the shed behind the house. “He didn’t tell you?”

I shook my head slowly. “Would you like me to show you down?” he offered, already moving toward the door.

“That would be good,” I said, trying to steady my voice. I followed him into the backyard, the cool afternoon air doing little to settle the nerves fluttering in my stomach.

As we neared the shed, an unease pooled in my gut. Why hadn’t Stephen told me he was heading out here? Especially today, when everything was supposed to be behind us. He had been so careful, so protective. He never liked me being near the warehouse, even after letting me in.

So why now?

Mike stepped ahead, pulling keys from his pocket. The jangle of metal sent a chill crawling up my spine.

He unlocked the door.

“After you,” he said smoothly, gesturing inside.

I stepped in … and immediately froze.

The space was nothing like I’d imagined. Large. Cold. Clinical. Everything was steel and concrete and sterile light. More like a lab than a warehouse.

But Stephen wasn’t there.

My stomach turned.

“Where is Stephen?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

No answer.

I turned to Mike. “Where is he?”

“Sit down, Trinity.” He pointed toward the lone office chair positioned behind a desk.

I blinked. “No, Mike, I need to find Stephen—where is he?”

“I said sit. ~Down.~”

The sharp crack in his voice shattered the last of my calm. I jumped, doing what he said. My hands gripped the arms of the chair, white-knuckled.

He started pacing. Up and down. Back and forth. Raking his hands through his hair, across his face, over his mouth.

“You ruined everything,” he muttered, then laughed—a jagged, broken sound. “You know that, right?”

“Me?” I choked out, blinking in confusion. “Mike, I know you might be upset about the operation shutting down, but it was his choice. I didn’t make him do anything.”

“Oh, no?” The laughter returned, harsher this time. Meaner. His face flushed a deep crimson, and the echo of his voice bounced violently off the aluminium walls. “Eighteen Months! And you ruin it by opening your legs to him!”

Rage burned through me like wildfire.

“Fuck you, Mike!” I snapped, pushing up from the chair. “I’m leaving!”

I didn’t even make it two steps before the unmistakable click of a safety coming off froze me in place.

He had a gun.

He had a fucking gun.

“Sit. Down.”

My legs moved before my brain could. I sat, my knees trembling so violently the chair rocked beneath me.

The weight of the air in the room became unbearable.

“Eighteen months of work,” he ranted, pacing again, wild-eyed and manic. “Eighteen months, feeding intel, getting in tight, waiting. And then you came along … and he started changing.”

Every cell in my body screamed ~run~—but I couldn’t move.

While he raved, I let my fingers drift to the underside of the desk, searching blindly for something—anything. A weapon, a phone, a fucking paperweight. My heart was thundering so loudly in my chest, I was sure he could hear it.

Then his voice snapped me back.

“You have two choices here,” he hissed. “You hand him over to me … or you go down with him.”

“What?” My voice cracked. I blinked at him, disoriented. “Go down?”

He stormed around the desk, fast—too fast. His face was inches from mine, his hot breath laced with rage.

“I’m DEA!”

***

STEPHEN

I came back down from the room after my shower, rubbing a towel over my damp hair, expecting to find Trinity still lounging in the hot tub. But she wasn’t there.

Not in the lounge.

Not in the kitchen.

Not in our room.

After twenty minutes of searching, unease took root in my chest. At first, I told myself she was probably upstairs or catching up with Mia… but when I checked again—nothing.

That was when the panic hit.

I knocked on Clint and Mia’s door, knowing full well Clint was going to lose his mind at being interrupted, but I didn’t care.

“Sorry to interrupt, but have either of you seen Trinity?” I called through the door.

“You’re good. Not interrupting now,” Clint called back.

I cracked the door open. Both of them were getting dressed, faces morphing from confusion to concern when they saw mine.

“I can’t find her…”

Immediately, they moved. We spread out and tore through every room. I found her phone still sitting in the lounge.

Fuck.

My pulse spiked. “Surely if she left the house, one of you two would’ve heard?”

“Our room’s closest to the door,” Clint confirmed, “and I heard nothing. Even with all of Mia’s screaming.” Mia slapped him, but the concern in her eyes was unmistakable.

Then Mia stilled. “Guys,” she drawled. “It’s a long shot … but we haven’t checked the warehouse.”

I didn’t wait for another word.

I was out the back door and sprinting down the slope before the last syllable left her mouth. The wind tore past my face, my heart hammering like a war drum. Clint and Mia were close behind, but I didn’t turn around. Couldn’t.

Then I heard it.

“You make me sick!”

Trinity’s voice. Furious. Defiant.

Another voice responded—Mike. Low. Cold.

“I won’t do it! So just take me!”

“Fine by me!”

No.

I charged the door, Clint barreling into it beside me. It flew open, and time slowed to a crawl.

Mike had a gun pointed at my girl.

The breath tore from my lungs like I’d been gut-punched. My body screamed to move, to attack, but the barrel of that gun whipped toward me just as fast.

“I wouldn’t take another step if I were you, Stephen,” he growled.

I froze.

Mia and Clint were right behind me.

Trinity—gorgeous, trembling, brave—sat behind the desk.

“Welcome to the party,” Mike sneered.

“What the fuck are you doing with my fiancée, Mike?” My voice came out low, even—but deathly sharp. I was calculating. Watching every tick of his jaw, every flick of his wrist.

“You’re not the boss today,” he said, waving the gun to direct us. “Shut the door, then you three can join her over by the desk.”

“I’m not doing a damn thing until you tell me what this is.” I didn’t care if he raised the gun again. I wanted it on me, not her.

“You trying to rob me? That what this is about? The missing product? You and Chad? You think I didn’t know?”

Mike laughed—a hollow, venom-laced sound. “I don’t give a shit about your bricks. You can thank Chad for that sloppy trail. He was the bait.” His voice dropped to a snarl. “He was a fucking pawn.”

“Stephen, he’s DEA!” Trinity’s voice sliced through the tension. I felt it like a slap to the face.

A fucking agent.

“You should listen to your fiancée, Mr. Gotti,” Mike said. “Though ‘ex-fiancée’ might be more accurate. Because you’re not walking out of here. None of you are.”

“Then take me,” I growled, stepping forward with both hands raised. “You want me, Mike? Fine. But don’t you ever point that weapon at her again.”

“You’re not in control anymore,” he snapped, waving the gun again. “Now move.”

We stepped slowly toward the desk. My eyes flicked to Clint. A silent message passed between us.

~Get them out.~

“What?” he whispered.

I didn’t answer.

Instead, I ~launched~ myself at Mike.

The gun fired—once, loud and sharp—but missed as I slammed my shoulder into him. We crashed to the ground, concrete ripping at my skin as I rained blow after blow onto his face. He fought back with animalistic rage, managing to land a knee to my ribs. Pain exploded through me, but I didn’t stop.

I ~couldn’t~ stop.

I caught a glimpse of Clint dragging the girls toward the door, shouting something I couldn’t make out. I turned for just a second—to make sure she was clear—and that’s when Mike kicked me hard in the side and scrambled to his feet.

I moved to get up—but he was already aiming the gun.

I braced myself.

Then—

BANG.

Silence.

A second of nothing.

No pain.

I opened my eyes.

Mike was down.

Flat on the floor. Blood blooming beneath his head.

Still.

Dead.

And there she was.

My Trinity.

Standing like a goddess of war—fists clenched, shoulders shaking, and my gun from the desk draw still raised in her trembling hand.

Clint and Mia stood behind her, frozen in stunned horror.

The weapon finally lowered … but her eyes never left me.

“He shouldn’t have touched you, Stephen,” she said, voice raw.

I didn’t move.

I couldn’t breathe.

I just stared at the woman who had saved my life. Who had ~chosen~ me.

~END OF BOOK 1~