Page 67 of Stiletto's Savior

The barista hands us our hot chocolates and we step back into the cool air.

The hot chocolate is rich and sweet, melting away any lingering tension from earlier.

We sip in silence, savoring the moment, our breaths mingling in the chilly air.

“Ready to head back to the club?” I ask, glancing down at her.

Her voice is soft, sincere. “Yeah, let’s get back.”

I wrap my arm around her waist, feeling the warmth seep through our layers.

She leans into me as we walk, and it feels natural—like we’ve been doing this forever.

We hop in the truck and get back to the club in no time.

When we reach the clubhouse, we get out of the truck and walk to the doors together.

I push the door open, and everything changes in an instant.

“Surprise!” A chorus of voices erupts around us.

Banners hang from the ceiling, bright red and black: “Welcome Home Stiletto.”

“Whoa,” she breathes, her eyes wide.

The room is packed—club members, ol’ ladies, and kids fill the space, laughter and chatter creating a symphony of joy.

Tables overflow with Chinese food, the aroma hitting me like a wave.

“Did you know about this?” she asks, glancing up at me, but I don’t see any shock on her face. So, the question is did sheknow about it?

“Not a clue,” I respond, but the grin on my face says it all. “Looks like they missed you.”

“Feels good to be missed." She smiles, the warmth spreading through her.

"Come on, let’s celebrate.” I pull her further inside, where the music starts to pulse, and the night stretches out before us.

“Let’s get some food,” she says, tugging me toward the spread on the table.

The aroma hits us—sweet and savory.

Fried rice, orange chicken, dumplings lined up like little soldiers. I grab a paper plate and start piling it high.

“Careful there, Miles. You might need a second plate,” she teases, eyeing my heaping portion.

“Don’t judge my appetite.” I shoot her a mock glare as I grab an egg roll, the crunch snapping under my teeth.

“Okay, okay! I’ll just grab some for myself.” She laughs, loading her own plate with care.

“That’s right. You better keep up.” I wink, feeling light-hearted in this moment, surrounded by family.

We head back into the throng of people.

The chatter rises, laughter mingling with the music blasting from the speakers.

The music shifts, a slow tune wrapping around us like a warm embrace.

I glance at Stiletto, her hazel-green eyes sparkling under the twinkling lights.

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