Page 7 of Thor

"Unlike you bums, I had some work to do. Had to finish the Carson transmission." I slid into the booth beside Tyson, our club's treasurer and resident voice of reason. Where Duke led with gut instinct and I led with fists, Tyson navigated with careful calculation. The three of us balanced each other in ways that had kept the Heavy Kings intact through years of war with the Serpents.

I tossed Mandy's folder onto the table between us. The documents inside were color-coded, tabbed, and arranged with a precision that reminded me of my tool wall. "The accountant's proposals are solid," I admitted grudgingly, spreading the papers across the sticky tabletop. "But are we really considering all this investment bullshit?"

Duke looked better than I'd seen him in years. The dark circles that had been permanent fixtures under his eyes had faded, and his shoulders carried tension from responsibility rather than exhaustion. Mia had changed him in ways I was still trying to understand.

"It's not bullshit, Thor. It's survival." Duke tapped one of the spreadsheets. "These numbers don't lie. There’s more profit we can squeeze out of our legitimate businesses, and we can invest that money to protect our future.”

"We're not fucking accountants," I said, crossing my arms. The movement made my Mjölnir tattoo flex across my back, a reminder of the strength I brought to the table. "We're the Heavy Kings. Since when do we worry about profit margins instead of protecting our territory?"

Tyson, who'd been silently studying Mandy's projections, looked up. His brown eyes held the calm assessment of a man who'd seen combat and learned to think three moves ahead.

"It's not either-or, Thor," he said, turning a page in the report. "It's both. Diversification protects us. If they hit our gun runs again, we need legitimate fallbacks." He traced a line of figures with his finger. "Look at the Ortega crew in Nevada. Feds seized their assets because everything was too connected. One business falls, they all fall."

I leaned back against the booth, unconvinced. The wood creaked beneath my weight. "Venom's getting bolder since we rescued Mia. He'll see this as weakness." I locked eyes with Duke. "He thinks you've gone soft."

Duke's face hardened, and for a moment, I saw the president who'd led us through the bloodiest territory war in club history. He looked like more bloodshed was to come. "Or he'll see us adapting while he stagnates."

"We're not abandoning our other businesses," Duke continued, voice low and dangerous. "The gun runs continue. The protection agreements stay in place. But we build something sustainable alongside it."

Tyson nodded, always the mediator. "We need both the blade and the shield, brother."

I ran a hand through my long blond hair, tied back with a leather cord. "I don't like outsiders deep in our business. The accountant knows too much already."

"Mandy's proven herself," Duke countered. "She's been handling Lena's tattoo parlor books for years without a single leak."

"I think we should bring her in deeper," Tyson said, tapping the most complex of the financial diagrams. "She's suggested a few moves here that honestly, I wouldn't have thought of. Legal ways to shield our assets that keep us protected from both the feds and rival clubs."

Something hot and unexpected flared in my chest at Tyson's words. The thought of Mandy working more closely with him sent a surge of territorial annoyance through me that I couldn't explain and didn't want to examine.

"She works through me," I heard myself say before I'd fully processed the thought. Both Duke and Tyson looked up in surprise. "I mean, I run the auto shop. If we're restructuring, I should be the point of contact."

Duke's expression shifted, something knowing flickering in his eyes. "Didn't realize you'd developed such an interest in accounting, brother."

"I haven't," I snapped. "I just don't want some outsider getting too comfortable with our operation."

Tyson exchanged a glance with Duke that made me want to punch both of them. "Sure, Thor. Whatever you say."

I glared at them, annoyed at my own transparency. "Can we focus on the actual problem? Venom's been spotted near our northern border three times this week."

Duke's face grew serious again. "I'm aware. Wiz has been monitoring their movements."

"And what are we doing about it?" I demanded.

"Being smart," Duke replied. "Building strength while they expect weakness. They think I'm distracted with Mia, that I've gone domestic." His eyes hardened to blue steel. "Let them think that until the moment I put them in the ground."

I studied my president, my brother, the man I'd follow into hell. Maybe he hadn't gone as soft as I feared. But as the meeting continued, I found my thoughts drifting back to copper hair and green eyes, and the strange surge of possessiveness I'd felt at the thought of her working closely with anyone else.

Mycabinlookedlikea fortress silhouetted against the darkening sky. I'd built it myself on five acres of woodland outside Ironridge—far enough from neighbors to avoid questions, close enough to town for club business. Most people expected the Heavy Kings' enforcer to live in some dive apartment above a bar or a run-down shack littered with beer cans and used condoms. The clean lines and massive windows of my modernist retreat surprised even my brothers the first time I'd hosted a club meet here.

I punched my security code into the keypad, listening for the reassuring series of clicks as the system disarmed. The front door opened to a spacious main room with concrete floors softened by a few strategic rugs. Leather furniture, sleek metal tables, and a state-of-the-art entertainment system I rarely used filled the space. A few Norse artifacts hung on the walls—a reproduction battle axe, a carved wooden Yggdrasil, a framed replica of ancient runes.

I moved to the bar cart, poured three fingers of Lagavulin into a heavy crystal tumbler, and carried it to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the forest. Pines stood sentinel against the night, the distant mountains barely visible as black cutouts against the navy sky. The isolation suited me—I'd had enough noise and chaos in my childhood to last several lifetimes.

The whiskey burned pleasantly down my throat, warming my chest. I hadn't wanted to admit how much Duke's meeting had unsettled me. Not the business aspect—I'd follow Duke's lead there, eventually—but the reminder of how much he'd changed since finding Mia. The peace in my brother's eyes had been unmistakable, a contentment I'd never seen in him before.

I drained the glass, set it down on the coffee table with a solid thunk, and moved toward the hallway. First, I checked that all the blinds were drawn and the security system was fully armed. No cameras in the house—I'd made sure of that when installing the system. Some privacy was non-negotiable.

At the end of the darkened hallway stood a door—solid oak, reinforced, with a deadbolt that required a key I kept separate from my others. The key hung on a thin silver chain around my neck, tucked beneath my shirt where it rested against my skin. I slipped it out, unlocked the door, and stepped inside, flicking on the warm recessed lighting.

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