Page 96 of Stiletto's Savior

I nod, the weight of his words sinking in.

I glance around the bustling room, feeling the warmth of camaraderie mixed with the chill of impending danger.

It might not directly affect our charter, but it affects the entire club and that’s something that’s unsettling.

I set my glass down with a soft thud, meeting his gaze. “Yeah, but wouldn’t it be nice for all the charters to catch a break?”

“Nice thought,” he replies, shaking his head slightly. “But there will always be issues.”

“Yeah, well, that’s comforting.” I roll my eyes, feeling the tension seep into my muscles. “What is it gonna take? A miracle?”

“Miracles don’t exist here.” His voice is gravelly, firm.

He leans closer, lowering his tone. “It’s the way of the game.”

I bite my lip, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “Seems like we’re just pawns on a chessboard then.”

He smirks, but there’s an edge to it. “More like knights. Always on the move, always taking risks.”

Sarcasm drips from my words. “Great. So, what’s our next move? Open another brothel?”

“Maybe we should.” Blackjack chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. “Make ‘em pay for their arrogance.”

Blackjack turns his attention to Dex. “What’s eating at you, kid? You’re bein’ too damn quiet.”

Dex peers up at his father, staring directly into his eyes. “Just thinkin’ about the next fight we’re about to face.”

Blackjack licks his lips and takes a few moments to compose his thoughts. “Get used to it. We’re always fightin’ somethin’ to protect the people and things we love.”

EPILOGUE

Miles

July 4th

Six months and here it is: the day we open.

Bright lights buzz overhead, and the scent of fresh paint mingles with the tang of sweat.

I stand at the entrance, heart pounding.

Today’s the day.

“Can you believe it?” Nova shouts over the noise, her face lit up like a kid on Christmas. She’s setting up mats, her hands steady and quick. “It’s finally happening!”

“Yeah, I can.” I adjust my black tank top, feeling the fabric hug my muscles. “Been waiting for this moment for ages.”

“Get ready,” she says, eyeing the crowd gathering outside. “Here they come.”

I step forward, nerves sparking in my gut.

The doors swing open, and a flood of people pours in.

Local media, fans, fighters—everyone’s buzzing, their voices drowning each other out.

I can barely hear myself think.

“Well, here goes nothin’,” I mutter to myself, straightening my back.

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