Page 10 of Under the Mistletoe

She eased up on her tiptoes and reached inside. Her small hand rifled around for a bit, and disappointment marked her face when there was no mail to be found. She closed the door, and when she started back up to the house, she spotted us watching her. A soft smile crossed her face as she lifted her hand and waved, then darted back inside the house, slamming the door behind her. I looked back over to Savage and scoffed, “Oh, and did I mention that she’s got a kid?”

“Whoa, wait... That was her kid?”

“Yep. Apparently, her name is Ava.”

“You gotta be shittin’ me.” Savage’s eyes darkened. “How the hell did we not know that?”

“No clue. She and Big kept it from all of us, I guess.”

“But this is Fury. We don’t keep secrets, and Big knows that better than anyone.”

“Big had his reasons for keeping quiet—just like she did.” I dragged a hand over my face, frustration burning through me. “I just don’t have any idea what those reasons could be.”

“Only one way you’re gonna find out.”

“Yeah, I know.” I crushed the cigarette beneath my boot. “I just gotta figure out what I’m gonna say to her. Hell, maybe it’s best that I don’t say anything at all.”

“Nah, man. You two need to have a conversation. Besides, something tells me you aren’t going to be the only one who’s gonna be wondering what was going on with her.”

“True, and you’re right. We do need to have a conversation, but right now, my focus needs to be on the club and this whole diamond thing with Maltese.”

“Speaking of which, I gotta get going. Maverick and Wrath are expecting me.”

“Alright. I’ll see you over at the clubhouse.” As he started towards his bike, he shouted, “Best hurry with that alternator. You’ve only got two hours until church!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get it.”

Once he was gone, I got back to work on the alternator. I tried to keep my focus, but I couldn’t stop thinking about our earlier meet with Maltese. A sense of dread washed over me when I thought about the tone of his voice as he spoke. It was cold and calculated, and he had an air about him—like he thought he was better than us. And I didn’t like it.

I didn’t like it one fucking bit.

In fact, I didn’t like any part of that fucking meet, including when he said,“Those antiques I mentioned before aren’t just antiques.”

“Yeah, we gathered. So, what’s the deal?”

“They’re moving diamonds. And not just any diamonds. These are precut and worth millions, and we want them. And we want your help getting them.”

The room went dead silent.

This was no longer about petty smuggling or territorial disputes.

We were talking about something that could get a lot of people killed, including us. Normally, we wouldn’t have a conversation like this in the bar. It didn’t have the security that the conference room had, but Big and Bones made sure the entire place was locked down like a fucking vault. No one could see or hear anything we didn’t want them to.

With that in mind, I looked to Dad as I snapped, “Holy shit. Is this guy serious?”

“Oh, I couldn’t be more serious.”

Dad leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “So, you want us to put our necks on the line while you sit back and reap the reward? You’ve got the wrong fucking club, because that shit’s not gonna happen.”

“No, you don’t understand... This would be a joint venture.”

Dad glanced over at Cotton, and suspicion was etched into every line of his face. Cotton had led the club for years and had recently taken on an entirely new role as Bruton’s successor—a once influential tradesman with powerful connections who found himself at the wrong end of a shotgun barrel.

His death opened an opportunity, and Cotton took it. Since then, he’d crossed paths with some very treacherous people—including the cartel. He knew there was something off with all this. We all did.

Dad turned back to Maltese as he asked, "A joint venture, huh?”

“Of course. We wouldn’t expect you boys to take this on alone. We would combine our resources and find the best way to get our hands on the goods.”

---