I’m dragged down to the police station, in the back of a cop car, where I’m then put in a holding cell until the cops bring me in for questioning.

But I’m not behind bars for long. While I was taken to the station, Jules was meeting with officers and gave them all the information they needed to know along with the phone.

Now, I’m just waiting to see my girl. Needing to see her.

I want her to know that I will do anything within my power to make sure no one else ever sees that footage.

I get out of questioning fast because once they understand my story, once they’ve seen the tape of me and my woman—everyone seems to understand why my blood was boiling so damn fast.

And Danny, he’s not a fool enough to press charges.

That man will never set foot in this town again.

An officer hands me back my belongings, a Rolex and my wallet. Things that mean nothing to me.

The only thing that matters anymore is Jules.

“So, you’re Levi Mallone?” the cop asks, shaking his head as if he can’t believe it. “Damn shame what happened to your parents.” I had to give them my legal name when I was brought in. I was fingerprinted too. I understand the drill and don’t mind that these guys know.

Maybe it was better this way, you know? Having to be honest about who I really am. It might make it easier for me when I tell everyone else.

Or, make it easier when everyone finds out from the tabloids—because I’m guessing once I started throwing punches at Sawyer and Sondra’s premiere, people started putting two and two together.

“My parents were the best. I’m lucky to have had the honor of being their son,” I tell the cop.

Jules’ words—plants need light in order to grow, so does love—flash through my mind once again.

I never talk about my parents publicly. Hell, I never talk publicly at all.

Which is why, now, telling the police officer that my parents were the best, makes me feel like I’ve been doing them a disservice for a hell of a long time.

My parents died, but the memory of them died that night, too because I’ve held all information I have about them back.

I could have done interviews, told the world just how great my parents were. And instead, I hid out of fear.

I was scared that what happened to them might happen to me.

And sure, they wanted me to be protected in ways that they weren’t, but now I’m a grown ass man. Now I don’t have to hide who I am or where I come from.

I’m proud of my past. And when I walk out to the station’s waiting room and see Jules sitting in a plastic chair, waiting for me—I’m proud of my future too.

A life with the woman before me.

“Cal,” she says, wrapping her arms around me, squeezing tightly. Crying softly on my shoulder. “I love you,” she says.

My hands are on the small of her back and I whisper in her ear, “I love you too, baby. I love you too.”

And then I take her hand and we head back to my loft.

It’s been a long time since we’ve made love in a bed, and tonight I need her in my arms.

I won’t let go.

* * *

In bed that night, Jules rolls up on top of me, sinking her warm, wet pussy down onto my cock. She grinds against me, her tits bouncing as she moves, her long hair brushing against my chest, her eyes locked on mine.

“What happens next Cal?” she asks.

“I don’t know yet, baby, we’ll figure it out together,” I tell her.

“Together.” She nods, needing the affirmation from me.

It makes me feel amazing, having this girl’s devotion, having her trust back.

She moves against me, her perfect hips swiveling above me, her pussy filled with everything I can give her.

I’ll do anything in my power to keep her this happy forever.

The next morning, Jules is still naked in my bed and she reaches over into her purse and says her phone is dead. Since I don’t have the same phone as her, she can’t charge it at my place.

“I can call someone and have a charger delivered,” I tell her.

She shakes her head. “I should go home anyway, shower and get clean clothes. And honestly, I don’t really know how Colette and Gretchen are doing either. I should check in on them.”

“You’re a good friend,” I say, kissing her neck and pulling her back toward me in the bed. “We could also just stay here all day.”

She lets me roll on top of her, filling her with my morning wood. “How about we just do this one more time and then deal with all the shit we have on our plates,” she says.

I nod in agreement, thrusting inside her, knowing I need to talk to Jordan and confirm where the cameras were planted in the club, knowing the cops are probably already there surveying the crime scene.

We were damn sure last night that the people Danny admitted were blackmailing him were with the mob, but the cops are going to take care of that piece.

I fill Jules up, and her morning smile makes my whole damn day.

“How about two more times?” I ask, rocking into her hard.

She gasps as I do, her arms reaching out for my headboard and holds on tight as I fill her perfect little cunt with my come.

“If you promise to do that move again,” she tells me with a twinkle in her eye. Then she laughs, and her voice fills my heart with promise.

* * *

I get to the club and see the cops there just like I expected. Jordan’s here too, and he’s in a heated conversation with an officer.

I walk toward them and they nod, motioning me over.

“They were only in a few times,” Jordan says. “But I could identify them if you got me the pictures. Though Cal would do a better job of identifying those gangsters than me.”

“You talking about the mob guys who’ve been coming around here?”

“Yeah,” the officer says. “We have a tipoff about a few of them, and I think we’ll be able to get them behind bars for something. They were making a killing from selling photos, using Danny as their puppet. He took the photos; the gangsters would buy them for a pretty penny. But not as pretty as they were turning around and getting for them from news outlets.”

“And why were they so hell bent on knowing who owns this place?” I ask.

The officer looks me in the eyes, not messing around. “Those guys wanted to cover their bases, knowing who the owner would guarantee that, Callahan.”

My jaw tightens and I run my hands through my hair. Dammit.

If I had just told them all those weeks ago, then and there, that the owner was Levi Callahan Mallone, they would have walked away.

They would have found some other shady agent to blackmail, at some other club.

It would have kept them from messing with us.

Jules is right, hiding did nothing for me.

And the fact that Sawyer died?

I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for that.

It’s fucking hard to accept, thinking about in those terms.

Jordan takes a hard look at me. “You alright, boss?” he asks.

I exhale, grateful that Jordan, the man I’ve been trusting for years, has had my back all along.

“It’s been a long few months.”

“But now it’s done,” Jordan says. “Now you get to move on.”

Move on. Right. I get to do that.

But Sawyer? He’s been dead a month. He doesn’t get to move on at all.

The officer walks away writing something down in a notepad and Jordan and I walk around the club. Officers have been dismantling cameras that were in nearly all the rooms. I feel sick inside that this place turned into something so dangerous, so fucking fast.

“Did you see the headlines this morning? Jordan asks.

“Nah.” I shake my head. I’ve been trying hard to avoid that shit—especially today. “Were they bad?”

Jordan smirks. “Damn, people are using the term A-list Fuck Club all over the internet. Crazy, really, considering for so long we really were able to keep tight-lipped about what went on here. Danny’s greed got the best of him. No more photos were leaked, but lots of names were mentioned.”

“My name?”

Jordan shrugs. “Are you pissed?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m gonna do an interview with Exposé this week anyway. Come clean about it all: why I made the club, what happened with Sawyer. My parents. All of it.”

Jordan whistles low. “Damn, never thought I’d hear those words from your mouth. I thought you said you’d always be a bartender.”

“Just because I’m giving them a story, doesn’t mean I’m out of the bartending business. I can make one hell of a lemon drop.” I laugh—and the fact that I can laugh in the midst of all this is fucking surreal.

But we all have to keep moving, right?

One step, then another.

“So, what happens to the club?” Jordan asks. “It fucking sucks that I’m gonna be out of a job, you know.”

I nod. “I talked my attorney on the way over here, apparently there were stipulations in my parents’ will that if there were unforeseen complications, I could have my trust when I wanted it. Meaning now. Which also means, I’d love to use some of my inheritance to invest in a new club.”

Jordan cocks an eyebrow at me. “What kind of club?”

“Not that kind of club. I’m thinking something with bright lights. Beach front. No doors. No walls. Just everything out in the open. No more secrets.”

“Like the antithesis of the Fuck Club?”

“Exactly. You think you can manage it?”

“Will you be the bartender?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I’m thinking of moving.”

“Where? You’ve lived in LA for your entire life.”

“I know, but I’m ready for a change.”

Just then, my phone rings. Seeing Jules’ number on the screen, I excuse myself to answer it.

“What’s up, baby?”

She sobs into the phone. “Cal, it’s Grandma. She died.”