Axe, Cole and Tate are here. While Sabrina packs a bag in her bedroom, I put Tate’s tech skills to work on sweeping the apartment and her phone for bugs. By the time he makes it through all the rooms, Tate has come up with a handful. He drops them into a small plastic case and tucks it into a drawer in the entryway console table. Cindy called it too while she was here earlier, which is why I kept my voice down. But that’s not enough. Whatever was said is already out there. It’s no surprise to me, given who her father is, but more so because of Giovanni. He’s exactly the type who’d get off watching and listening to Sabrina’s every move in her own private space without her knowing.

“Is everything else okay?” Sabrina calls from her bedroom. She comes out into the living room dressed in her black leggings and a blue striped button-down shirt. Her fashion sense isn’t enough to make me forget she’d lied to me about her family connections, but I can’t deny how fucking hot she looks. She’s probably right that if she came clean back when I met her on the elevator, I would have walked away with no second thought. The fact that her condo was being monitored means that whoever is after her saw me leaving with her, and for them, it wouldn’t be a stretch to believe she was at my clubhouse. The only question that’s still unanswered is if Giovanni or her father had something to do with both her attempted kidnapping and some connection to what happened at the clubhouse.

Did Sabrina already put two and two together?

If she did, she’s still not being forthcoming about it.

“We’re good here. It’s time to go.”

“All right. But, are you okay?” She takes a hesitant step forward.

“Never better. You’ve got some serious shit going on in your life, and now it’s on the MC’s doorstep, but I can handle it. Let’s go.”

I stop the conversation there, and head to the front door where my men are waiting, with Sabrina in tow. She’s coming along willingly, which probably doen’t sit well with her, but at this point, she must realize she doesn’t have a lot of options.

This time as we leave, we all take the stairs.

* * *

I toy with an unlit cigarette in the clubhouse meeting room the next day. All my brothers’ eyes are trained on me like a hawk now that I’ve just finished my debrief of the full story that is Sabrina Temple now Rizzo. Everyone has an opinion.

“Yeah, so this is way more complicated than I thought,” I add.

“No shit, Pres.” Tate pushes on the edge of the long table with his feet, leaning backward in his chair until the two front legs rise up in the air. “Is it ever simple when rich broads are in the picture?”

“True.”

Tate runs his hand over his bright blue Mohawk. “Well, now that we know the lay of the land, just let me know who I have to shoot, maim, or kill, and we’ll be golden.”

Cole jumps in next. “Let me get this straight. You want us to take on the entire Italian mafia under Rizzo. That’s almost as dumb as sticking your fucking nose where it didn’t belong in the first place.”

“And your hand…And your dick,” Axe says cynically, directing the comment at me with a smug smile I’d like to stomp off his face.

“Shut it, smartass.”

I slouch back in my chair, wondering what Sabrina is up to in the guest room. I have no intention of letting her stay in my room, although staying away from her now will be one of the hardest fucking things for me to do. Letting her addictive smell infuse into my room and my belongings is too much temptation. I can’t keep fooling myself. There’s no happy ending for us. I’ll consume her. If we’re not killed first.

Clearing my throat, I get back to business. “Anyone else have something to add? Speak now or…you know the fucking drill. And I need a few drinks so I can figure out this mess.”

I glance around the table at Cole, Tate, and Axe. Dean, the prospect, is out there tending bar while the sack demons pull their weight by helping to clean up some more from the explosion. There’s a lot left to do to make the clubhouse feel like home again. But it’ll take more than a cleanup team and a construction crew for that to happen.

Tate excuses himself and heads to the bar, returning a few minutes later with two bottles of whiskey, a stack of glasses, and an envelope. He passes me the envelope and one of the bottles.

“This is for you.”

My eyebrows narrow. “Thanks. What the fuck’s in the envelope?”

“No idea. Dean said someone dropped this off while we were gone. Apparently, we had an interesting visitor.”

“Does our visitor have a name?” I frown, turning the clean but creased envelope over in my hands. I don’t recognize the neat, cursive writing on it.

“Well, it was mostly just a hand, Pres. Some guy drove up in a limo and rolled down his window enough to give it to one of the officers working on his ride. He didn’t have time to ask the person who they were. By then, the limo was already rolling out. So no, not enough time to ask about the who, what, where, when, or why.”

“Fuck,” I grumble, shaking my head as I rip it open.

I read it once, then another time. Yes. We’re all royally fucked. Rubbing the side of my head, I fold the envelope and place the note face up on the table.

“Well?” Axe is the first to lean forward and pick up the note.

Without a word, I take a few long swigs of whiskey, slam down the bottle, then I lean back in my seat, waiting with steepled fingers as he reads.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

“Yeah. Shit’s about to go down. We need backup. Cole, start rounding up the other charters. See if any of them can make it here before tomorrow night.”

“Sure thing,” Cole replies without knowing what was going on. That’s my loyal, badass vice president. He follows orders first and asks questions later. That type of trust is hard to come by, especially at times like this when talking about shit takes too much fucking time.

“Thanks, bro.”

By now the letter’s making the rounds. After Tate reads it, he stares at it as if the sheet of paper will explode in his hands. It’s an invitation to meet Romano Rizzo. The Padrino. Sabrina’s father. Because he’s out of the country on business, the meeting is in two days. I’m most concerned about the part where he talks about wanting to discuss our mutual interests and threats to future dealings. The wording is subtle, but we all fucking know he’s talking about his daughter. The invite’s also only for me and my VP, but I sure as shit ain’t leaving anything open-ended. Someone this powerful won’t be showing up alone, and he isn’t the type to leave anything to chance when it comes to his business, let alone family.

I can only assume he thinks we have something to do with kidnapping his daughter. Which means we have to anticipate the worst. We’ll need to bring in with all the backup we can locate so if shit goes sideways, we’ll have enough guns watching our six.

“Cole. You’re good to make sure this is handled?”

“Yeah,” Cole answers. “I’ll have better numbers in two hours. Jenny can help Axe with the weapons for charter members coming from out of state. There might be a few smaller shipments that haven’t gone out yet. We can use those if we’re in a pinch.”

“Before you go, let’s talk about what to expect from Padrino.”

“Sure.” Cole stares at a picture on the wall behind Axe as he considers it. “Best case scenario, Padrino buys your story about saving her from the guys who tried to take her. If he does, it can be as simple as we hand her over and he walks away. He might be planning an ambush to send a message, in which case, he won’t give two fucks about whether we’re the good guys or not. And worst case, we’ll walk into the start of an all-out war. What are you thinking?”

“About the same. I’m just curious to know if he had anything to do with the clubhouse getting bombed and Sabrina getting taken in the first place. I don’t see why he’d kidnap his own daughter, unless there’s something we’re missing. If it’s not him on both counts, we can push for continuing as allies. Offer to help him figure out who’s behind everything.”

“Assuming he’ll let us talk at all,” Axe points out.

I’m thinking the same thing. “Agreed.”

Tate puts the letter on the table and leans forward. “And then there’s the bugs planted in his daughter’s place. If he knew about them, well first, he’s a sick fuck for listening in on his own kid like that, but more important than that is he knows someone went there to grab her last night with Cindy, and that you stopped them, Silas.”

And that I fucked his daughter in her shower after it was all said and done. “Let’s just hope he had nothing to do with the place being wired.”

Cole raps on the table with his knuckles. “Whatever goes down, we’ll be ready.” He gets up, gives us a mock salute, and leaves the room.

Now, all that’s missing is the facts. And proof to back it up. With these unknowns still on the table, all the preparation in the world won’t put us in a position of strength for this meeting with Rizzo. I mentally cringe because I can’t shake the feeling that Giovanni is involved somehow, especially because the Los Diablos VP confirmed the attack on the clubhouse was a hired job. If I don’t clear the air, everything can go south fast. And not just the meeting. The bulk of our business can disappear in no time.

Spinning my burner phone on the table, I prepare myself for two fucked-up, back-to-back conversations, jam-packed with posturing, reading between the line, and possible accusations non-stop.

No time like the fucking present.

Flipping it open, I hit the speed dial and turn on the speakerphone for Axe and Tate’s benefit.

“I was wondering when you’d call,” Mr. Giovanni answers. “It’s rather important that we have a conversation, Mr. Corrigan.”

“Yes. That’s why I phoned.”

“You have my fiancée. I’m keen to have her back here with me.”

My eyebrows shoot up. Axe, Tate and I share a knowing glance. Interesting. Giovanni knows, but he didn’t think to mention it when we spoke yesterday. He either found out from Padrino, or he knew all along and kept quiet about it because he’s behind the bugs at Sabrina’s place.

“All I did was help her out of a bind,” I explain with as few words as possible. “She’s safe.”

“I don’t play nice when someone steals from me,” he barks into my ear. “Do you understand?”

“We didn’t kidnap her, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Look, this is all one big misunderstanding—” I start, but as he’s probably talking about me banging his fiancée, I bring my voice down a notch and give him the floor so he can say whatever the fuck he needs to get off his chest.

“I don’t see it that way,” he tells me. “Neither does Rizzo. He’s our mutual friend, you see, and the way he looks at situations like these, well, let’s just say it’s very black and white. The point is you have what’s mine. Your next best move would be to give it back.”

“Hold on a second.”

“It’s simple, Corrigan. I have someplace to be, so bring her back here within twenty-four hours.”

“I don’t do well with ultimatums,” I tell him calmly.

“Well, you’d better start getting used to mine, or next time I’ll take out every last one of you. Don’t think I can’t pull together the resources to have a few pounds of C-4 strapped to a club member, instead of that minor light show outside your place the other night.”

The fucker’s admitting it now.

“You son of a bitch!” I’m mad as fuck now. “You have some fucking nerve, asshole.”

“Here’s a tip for you, Corrigan. Next time, don’t shit where you eat. Bring my fiancée when and where I tell you to, and I won’t retaliate any further. And remember that Satan's Saints isn’t the only gunrunning charter in the area. You aren’t crucial to my operation. No one is irreplaceable. Do you see where I’m going with this, or would you like me to demonstrate?”

“Do you really believe I’m so desperate for business that I’d keep working with you after you attacked us, motherfucker?”

The line goes dead and I fling the burner phone away, watching the pieces shatter against the wall.

I narrow my eyes at Tate as he spreads both palms out over the worn, scarred table. “You know me boss. I’m good either way. Whether you take her back to him or not. But you should know that I’m leaning toward showing up without Sabrina. We can take this Giovanni douchebag out for a half-day trip to the desert with a few shovels.”

Axe isn’t as lighthearted. “Shut the fuck up, Tate. This is serious.” He turns to me. “You can’t be ready to put the club at risk over a good piece of ass.”

“How about you leave that part to me? Actually, I’m kinda surprised you’re not all over this plan to face off with Padrino and Giovanni.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve been pushing for us to get out of the gunrunning business and go legit for ages. Maybe you’ll get what you want after all.” Standing, I push in my chair at the head of the table. “I need to have a talk with her. Work with Cole to start prepping everyone.”

“Will do. And I’ll call the lockdown.” Axe fiddles with his pocket knife. “Any other protocol you want us to observe while you’re…talking?”

“Yeah, make damn sure my mother stays out of my way. I don’t want to have to deal with her whining right now.”

“I’ve got that covered,” Tate chuckles. “She’s a sucker for my dick.”

My eyebrows raise nearly to my hairline, but I keep my comments to myself. Cindy’s a grown woman. If she wants to have casual hookups with a twisted son of a bitch like Tate, that’s her own damn choice. I just don’t need to know anything about it. Ever.

“Don’t fucking mention that again, or you and I are gonna have a problem.”

“You got it, boss man.”