After thanking Minister Fellows, Sterling and I left the church with the lockbox in tow. The world seemed a new place as we passed other workers arriving and the late summer air continued to burn off the morning dew.

Patrick met us at the sedan, his questioning stare penetrating through the darkness of his now-donned sunglasses. We rode in virtual silence until we reached the airport and boarded the plane. Once aboard with the door closed, the three of us were a chorus of voices asking as well as telling.

“There are no pictures,” Sterling said, so far being the only one to look inside and see the contents. “There are CDs, but more than McFadden said. He’d told me there would be six. I didn’t take the time to count, but I’d estimate that there are at least a dozen. There were also a few floppy disks and multiple envelopes with documents. I didn’t take the time to look at any of it closely.”

I shook my head, leaning against the back of a tall chair sitting at the round table at the front of the plane with Patrick and Sterling. “So we take it all to McFadden and life goes on?”

“No,” both men said in unison.

“What? I want this over.”

“So do we,” Sterling responded, “but we’re not handing over information that we don’t know what it entails.”

“You’re going to copy it, aren’t you?” I asked pointedly, looking at both men. “You’re not going to let this die.”

“We’re going to take it to Reid and learn the contents,” Patrick said in his calming tone.

“And then you’re going to decide what is shared,” I added, “the three of you.

“No, Araneae,” Sterling replied. “The one making that decision would be you.”

“What?”

“It’s yours. You may not want to know what it contains, but I’ve been thinking about something you said. You asked me if I found you for the purpose of finding the evidence so I would be in control of its dissemination.”

I nodded, remembering the conversation.

“I did,” he said matter-of-factly.

My chest grew tight at his confession.

“And I was wrong,” he went on. “That said, finding you, Araneae, wasn’t wrong. The choice is yours completely with what happens to whatever’s in this box. First, let Reid find out what it contains.”

I sucked in a breath, looking into Sterling’s dark eyes and back to Patrick’s as my mind swirled with the ramifications. “Tell me,” I declared, “if there’s evidence about Sparrow, about your father’s involvement, what will that mean for you, for all of you? That FBI agent, Wesley Hunter, he wants evidence against you. He wants me to testify. I don’t want to know what’s on there. I don’t want to do that.”

“In a way,” Sterling said, “that’s what your mother said about not wanting to know what your father did or what he had.”

“She said that even if she knew, she couldn’t be compelled to testify against him because he was her husband.” My heartbeat accelerated as I stared at Sterling. “Do you remember those words?”

The plane was now high in the sky as Sterling unbuckled his seat belt and came my way. His expression was suddenly dark, darker than my question should have instilled. With a tug, my seat belt came undone. I hesitated as he encouraged me to stand.

Yet as I did, he reached for my wrist and without a word led me through the main cabin and back to the bedroom.

Once the door was shut, I found myself pinned against the wall, his solid body on mine and his dark, penetrating gaze taking my breath away.

“Sterling...”

His lips came to mine, demanding, possessive, bruising.

His hard chest pressed against mine, flattening my breasts as his arms created a cage near my face. When we finally pulled apart, I looked up expectantly, wanting to hear the words.

“You are mine,” he declared, yet his expression was not one of adoration. “You fucking have been for nineteen years. For most of that time you didn’t know, you didn’t understand. I knew you were mine. Now I know so much more.” He leaned back, looking down over my t-shirt and jeans. “I know every fucking curve you have hidden under those clothes. I know the way your body responds to not only my actions but also my words and even expressions. I fucking love how wet you get, how hard your perfect nipples become, and the way you say my name all breathy as you’re falling apart.”

My breasts moved against his chest, fighting for air to fill my lungs.

“I fucking know the words you mentioned. I know them because a beautiful, magnificent, intelligent, loving, and amazing woman taught them to me.” His finger caressed my cheek. “She taught me more than that. In a short time, she taught me that I was capable of more than power and violence. She showed me that I can love. That’s the woman I want to share my name, my life, my bed forever.”

He took a step back.

“Sterling?”

His head shook. “I won’t use those words, not yet. I never want you to think that I’d propose to you to stay out of prison or to keep my family name out of the news. Araneae, you deserve so much fucking more than that.”

“But...it’s a solution.”

“No, sunshine. It’s forever and I want to spend it with you once we know what forever means.”

He came closer and brushed a chaste kiss over my lips. “And if you ever take my control away like that again in front of Patrick or anyone, your ass is mine.”

I took a step closer and placing my hands on his shoulders, lifted my tennis-shoe-covered feet up to my tiptoes. “Yes, Mr. Sparrow.”

He reached down as his fingers splayed over my backside. “It’s already mine. One more thing.”

“What?”

“Lockdown. All of us, until this is settled. Even Sinful Threads.”

“What?”

“Chicago office. Jana gets the rest of the week off. You can handle business from the penthouse.”

I considered arguing and telling him that my business was off-limits to his rules, but then again, McFadden’s deadline was looming. Today was Wednesday. Labor Day was Monday—in five days.

I could follow Sterling’s rules for five more days if when they were done, we could move on. “When this is over,” I said, repeating something we’d discussed before, “you promised me more control.”

He leaned forward until our foreheads touched. “When it’s over.”

I smiled. “Then I can wait.”