Chapter Nine

STEPHEN

After an unforgettable night, I headed back home to check in on the boys and see how they were holding down the fort while I was out. As I pulled up, I pressed the fob and the wrought-iron gates slowly creaked open, letting me through. I hadn’t even realised how late—or rather, how ~early~—it was. The faint glow of dawn touched the horizon, and it hit me: it was going to be a long day. The final shipment for the month was due in.

I parked up, killed the engine, and got out, stretching slightly before walking toward the house. I’d chosen this property for its seclusion—set on a few private acres with secure fencing, multiple exits, and a network of detached dwellings. Ideal for what we did. Each of us had our own space, close but separate. Useful after long nights of less-than-legal activity.

I stepped inside, tossing my keys on the hallway table, and made my way into the kitchen. Flipping the coffee machine on, I leaned against the counter and let my thoughts drift.

To ~her~.

The sound of Trinity’s pleasure in my ear as I feasted on her played in a loop in my head. My pants grew tight, and I adjusted myself with a groan, running a hand through my hair. That taste, that ~look~ she gave me when she came undone in my arms... Fuck.

I was so lost in it; I didn’t hear Clint come in.

“Long night?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. “You good, bro?”

“Yeah, sorry,” I said, shaking myself out of it. “Was in my head for a minute.”

He leaned on the island across from me, watching me closely. “Anything you want to share?”

“I’m fine. Just need caffeine,” I said, already knowing he wouldn’t let it go.

“You having some?” I added, a rhetorical question—Clint practically ran on espresso.

He just gave me that look, the one I knew too well. His smirk spread. I sighed. “What?”

“That hot piece of ass has got you all riled up, hasn’t it?”

“Fuck off,” I muttered, but couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corner of my mouth.

He chuckled. “It has! Don’t bullshit me, mate. I’ve known you your entire life.”

I hesitated. “Fine. Yeah. And she’s more than just a piece of ass.”

That shut him up for a second.

“She’s gotten inside your head already, huh?”

I turned toward him. “So what if she has?”

“No judgment here, man. You know how I was when Mia came along.”

I nodded. Clint and Mia were the real deal. Five years in and still solid. “How do you do it, though?” I asked.

He tilted his head. “Do what?”

“Juggle this life we’ve built … and still keep your girl happy?”

He leaned back, stretching slightly before answering. “There’s no magic formula, bro. You just know. When something’s that important, you make it work. You figure the rest out as you go. You get me?”

I nodded, but that knot of anxiety in my gut didn’t ease. “I get it. I just don’t know if she’ll accept this life.”

“You don’t,” he said bluntly. “But that’s the risk. I mean, come on—remember me? My ass was falling out of my jeans the day I told Mia. I didn’t know how she’d take it. But I knew I had to be the one to tell her. She deserved more than finding out from someone else, or worse—getting caught in the crossfire if something went sideways.”

I said nothing for a long moment. Just handed him his coffee and pulled up a stool next to him.

“What if she doesn’t take it well?” I said finally. “I only just found her. And I don’t even know exactly what this is yet... but I know I don’t want to lose her. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.”

Clint let out a low breath. “You gotta tell her, man. If it’s weighing on you this much already, you’ve got your answer.”

He gave me a solid slap on the arm—his usual way of lightening a heavy mood.

“Fucker,” I muttered.

Then, quieter: “How the hell do I tell her I run this city’s biggest drug syndicate?”

He burst out laughing. “Just like that?” He dodged the punch I threw at his shoulder, grinning. “You asshole.”

“Come on, man,” he said. “I’ve never seen you this wound up.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I needed to bite the bullet and just tell her this weekend. Before it got deeper. Before she was in too far. Before she could get hurt.

“I’ll figure it out,” I muttered. “I’ll do it this weekend.”

“Good man.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Everything run smooth last night?”

“Always.”

“No hiccups?”

“None. But what I want to know is—how smoothly did your night go?”

He wiggled his damn eyebrows, and I rolled my eyes.

“You’re a real cunt sometimes, you know that?”

He nodded cheerfully. “Yeah, but you still didn’t answer me.”

“It was good,” I said, already regretting opening that door.

“That’s all I get? You’re giving me nothing?” He whistled. “Damn. You’re the pussy of the night.”

I snorted. “Fine. It was fantastic.”

“Uh-huh. Whipped. Already.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Bullshit!” he laughed. “We always share this shit. Now you’re going quiet on me?”

I ran my hand across the back of my neck, staring down at my coffee.

“She’s just... different,” I said, voice low. “She’s not like the others. She’s not a hit-and-flick. She’s got something I can’t explain. And when I’m with her … fuck, it’s like the rest of the world shuts up for a minute.”

Clint stared at me for a second, then nodded.

“Maybe you’ve finally found your queen.”

“She’s the only one who’s ever come close to the kind of woman I’d want beside me,” I said, rubbing my jaw. “She’s so fucking intelligent, man. Got her own career, doesn’t need a damn thing from me. Independent. Strong. But not the cold kind of strong... the kind that builds you. Makes me want to be better. For her.”

Clint nodded, letting me speak, which was rare in itself.

“And fuck,” I added, dragging a hand down my face, “don’t even get me started on that body. I feel like a fucking predator around her.”

“She is super tidy, man,” he said, raising his brows.

I shot him a look—and then my fist into his bicep. Hard. “Don’t fucking go there.”

He let out a laugh and rubbed his arm, grinning. “Sorry, but come on—you can’t blame a guy. When a woman walks past with an ass like that, you’d be rude not to appreciate it.”

“God, I hate you.”

He knew I was half-joking. Probably more than half. Bastard always pushed buttons just to see if they worked.

I shifted gears. “Where are the rest of the boys?”

Clint leaned back in his chair. “Mike’s still down at the shed—said he’ll buzz when the call comes in. Dave and Chad crashed out upstairs for a bit, recharging before the shipment hits later.”

“Appreciate you covering it all,” I said, genuinely. Then I remembered something. “Actually … speaking of rest.”

He looked up.

“I need a solid from you next weekend.”

Clint arched an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“I’m taking Trinity away.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “Fuck yeah. Dirty weekend. Yeah, I’ll cover you—but you know the rule.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What rule?”

“You’ve gotta tell Mia.”

I snorted. “Who’s really pussy-whipped now?”

He didn’t even flinch. “Dude, I admit it. That woman has claws. But fuck … I love it.”

“Dirty bastard,” I muttered, chuckling. “Alright, alright—I’ll tell her tonight. And you know what? Take the weekend after I’m back off. Book something nice. Hell, buy her a ring already, you asshole.”

He didn’t laugh. Not right away.

“I’ve been seriously thinking about it.”

That made me blink.

“Yeah,” he said. “All the shit she puts up with—from us, from me, especially. She deserves my name. It’s the least I can give her.”

I stared at him, feeling a rare wave of pride. “Take some time this week. Go get it sorted. I’m proud of you.”

He gave me a nod, and we hugged it out like brothers do—no fanfare, no speeches, just solid.

We finished our coffees and stood.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get down to the warehouse, knock out this last run so you can go ring shopping and I can go book a weekend off.”

***

A few hours later, the three of us—me, Clint, and Mike—were at the back of the warehouse. Inventory had been sorted. Every box checked. Every price double confirmed. All we were doing now was waiting for the final call.

Clint lit the first spliff, passed it to me. I took a long drag, letting the tension ease from my shoulders.

“Mike,” I said, voice level but direct, “Clint’s in charge next weekend. I want all deals out smooth. No fuckups. No heat. We stay clean. You all need to be alert.”

“You got it, boss,” Mike replied without hesitation. “I already ran the rounds this morning. Quantities confirmed. Pricing locked. Everything’s in place.”

“Good,” I said.

Mike leaned forward, elbow on his knee, squinting through the smoke. “So, business trip, or…?”

Clint jumped in like the cocky bastard he is. “Nah, mate—it’s called a trip up Trinity’s alley.”

Both of them erupted in laughter. I just shook my head and smirked.

“You’re a dead set wanker.”

We all laughed again. This was us. The dark edge of the world we lived in softened by the only thing that made it bearable—loyalty and brotherhood.

Mike sobered, his tone more curious now. “I’ve never seen you put off work for a broad before, boss. She must be something.”

“She is,” I said simply.

Mike nodded, like he respected that answer. “From what I saw... yeah. She looked it.”

Clint burst out laughing again, practically wheezing. “Don’t go there, man. I’ve still got a dead arm from trying that earlier.”

Mike chuckled, holding up a hand. “Noted.”

“Why the fuck do I even put up with you lot?” I grumbled.

That just made them laugh harder.

We passed the second joint around; the tension easing as smoke curled through the cool air. If the call didn’t come in by the time we finished this one, we’d head back up to the house. We’d done all we could for now.

But even in the laughter, my thoughts drifted.

To her.

To how I’d have to tell her everything—soon.

And to whether she’d still look at me the same once she knew who I really was.