Page 82 of Tyson
"Crystal," I said.
He clapped me on the shoulder, the gesture fraternal but edged with warning. "Good. Now let's get back. Got a bachelor party to finalize."
As we headed for our bikes, I caught one last glimpse of Lena through the boutique window. She was laughing at something Mia said, head thrown back, beautiful, vibrant, and completely unaware that our secret was hanging by a thread.
It felt like things were about to get complicated.
Churchwasalreadyinsession when I finished setting up my laptop. My brothers sat around the carved wooden table, faces grim as I pulled up the intelligence Tank and I had gathered on Cruz's cartel connections.
"What we've got is worse than expected," I began, clicking through surveillance photos. "Cruz isn't just connected to the Serps and the Las Cruces cartel—he's been actively feeding them information about our operations."
Thor's fist hit the table hard enough to rattle beer bottles. "That fucking weasel. First he threatens Lena, now he's trying to bring cartel heat to my wedding?"
"Not trying," I corrected, pulling up intercepted communications. "Planning. These messages reference a specific date—that of the ceremony. They know our security will be focused on protecting the wedding."
"Making us vulnerable elsewhere," Duke said quietly, studying the intelligence with sharp eyes. "Classic misdirection."
Tank leaned forward, scarred face serious. "How solid is this intel?"
"Solid enough." I switched screens, showing financial records. "Cruz has been moving money through shell companies connected to known cartel operations. Small amounts, but consistent. He's not a major player, but he's useful to them—local knowledge, established business fronts."
"And a grudge against us through Lena," Duke added. "Question is, what's their play?"
I'd been running scenarios all night, war-gaming possibilities while Lena slept. "Best case, they're gathering intelligence, waiting for an opening. Worst case . . ."
"They hit us during the wedding when we're exposed," Thor finished, voice deadly quiet. "Try to take out leadership when we're all in one place."
The room erupted in angry voices—brothers arguing strategy, threats against Cruz, protection protocols for the wedding. Duke let it run for a minute before raising his hand for silence.
"We proceed as planned," he decided. "Double security at all venues, extra eyes on the perimeter. Tank, coordinate with friendly clubs for additional bodies. Thor, I know it's your day, but—"
"I'll be armed," Thor said flatly. "Anyone tries to fuck with my wedding gets put down hard."
We spent another hour finalizing details—shift rotations, weapon placement, emergency protocols. The kind of planning that had kept us alive through worse threats than Cruz and his cartel friends. By the time we wrapped up, I'd assigned every brother specific responsibilities, created contingency plans for multiple scenarios, and established communication protocols that would let us respond to any threat without tipping off civilians.
"Good work," Duke said as brothers started filing out. "Tank, Thor, stay close to your phones. Everyone else, get some rest. I want this boat party to be perfect."
I was packing up my laptop when Duke's voice stopped me. "Need you to stay after."
The words hit like ice water. Thor glanced between us, read the tension, and left without comment. Soon it was just Duke and me in the dim light of church, cigarette smoke curling between us like an accusation.
"Got concerns," Duke said finally, lighting another cigarette with deliberate calm.
"About?"
"Security for the party. With Cruz's threats about the wedding, and you being . . . distracted lately."
I kept my expression neutral, closing my laptop with careful precision. "There’s no indication that either the Serps or the Cartel are targeting the party. And I'm not distracted."
"No?" Duke's voice carried that particular tone that had made him president—calm, measured, dangerous. "So you didn't spend three nights this week at Lena's? Your bike wasn't there at dawn yesterday?"
Fuck. I'd been careful, but not careful enough. Duke had eyes everywhere, and nothing happened in his territory without his knowledge.
"I'm protecting a civilian who's been threatened, just like you asked," I said carefully, meeting his gaze. "Cruz is targeting her specifically. She needed security."
"That all you're doing?" Duke took a long drag, studying me with those sharp eyes that missed nothing. "Because if someone was, say, involved with someone in the wedding party, that could compromise security."
The words hung between us like a challenge. Duke wasn't asking—he knew. This was my chance to come clean, to trust my president with the truth. But the habits of secrecy, of protecting what mattered most, ran too deep.
