The simple admission hits me right in the chest.
"Thank you, Red. There are also many things I love about you," I say, gliding my hand over her ass.
"This way." Brian's voice breaks through my wandering thoughts. He leads us to the VIP section—all sleek leather and warm lighting. "I've made sure you'll have privacy tonight. No uninvited guests or cameras allowed."
I recognize immediately that this isn't the same VIP area where Ethan and I sat during our first visit. That space had been open. This section is tucked away in a different corner of the club, more secluded and intimate. A sanctuary rather than a showcase.
"This is the friends and family section. Much more private," Brian gestures.
What catches my eye and makes me stop dead in my tracks is the massive canvas dominating one wall. It draws me in like a magnet—swirls of deep blues and golds creating a vortex of emotion. Figures emerging from darkness into light. It's raw, powerful, and unmistakably Isabella's work.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Brian asks, pride evident in his voice. "Bells painted it specially for the club."
I stare at the canvas. Every brushstroke seems to pulse with meaning, with energy.
"It's gorgeous."
A burst of female laughter fills the space. I turn to see three women descending on Isabella like a whirlwind of designer clothes and genuine affection. My heart rate kicks up again as I recognize them, her inner circle, the ones who've been there through everything. Who were there when her art event was cancelled.
Emma breaks away first, her gaze warm and welcoming as she approaches me. "Ares, nice to see you again," she says, extending her hand. "Welcome to our little family gathering."
"Emma," I say, returning her smile. "It's good to see you too."
There's something soft in her presence that instantly puts me at ease. Maybe it's the gentle way she smiles, or how she genuinely seems interested in my response.
"That's my wife," Brian announces proudly, wrapping an arm around a stunning brunette. "Amanda Fox, co-conspirator in tonight's gathering."
Amanda's assessment is sharp but not unkind. "So you're the man who's turned our Bella's world upside down again." There's a warning in her tone, subtle but clear.
"Again?" A familiar voice cuts through the tension. "More like hurricane Saint, back for round two."
Alisha. Even without turning, I recognize that voice. The same woman who nearly tore me apart during our first encounter at the club and later looked ready to shove me down the stairs at Bella's home. She steps into view, her expression blazing with that familiar protective fury.
"Hello, Alisha." I meet her gaze steadily. "Good to see you're still protecting Isabella's honor."
"Someone has to."
"Alisha," a deep voice rumbles from behind her as a tall, imposing man with striking blue eyes appears. His hand settles on her shoulder, both restraining and supporting. "Give the man a chance to breathe before you go for the jugular."
He extends his other hand toward me. "Cole Walker. Husband to this fierce warrior here and occasional voice of reason."
I take his hand, appreciating the straightforward introduction. "Ares Saint. Though I'm guessing you already knew that."
"Hard not to, with your face plastered across every gossip site in Boston." Another man joins our group, his easy smile reminiscent of Emma's warmth. "Nick Brown. Emma's better half and resident peacekeeper."
The tension in my shoulders eases slightly as Nick guides us toward the seating area. Ethan, already settled in like he's known these people for years, is deep in conversation with Brian about some architectural features of the club.
Isabella catches my eye from across the space where she's still surrounded by her friends. The soft smile she gives me makes my heart stutter.
"Gross," Alisha announces, dropping onto the leather couch. "They're doing that whole silent communication thing already."
"Like you and Cole are any better," Amanda teases, settling beside her friend.
"Speaking of better," Alisha's attention snaps back to me, "what exactly are your intentions with our girl? Because if this is some temporary rebellion against mommy and daddy dearest—"
"Alisha!" Emma's voice carries surprising authority.
"No, it's fine." I lean forward, meeting Alisha's challenge head-on. "You want to know my intentions? I love Isabella. I never stopped loving her, even when I believed the lies my parents fed me. And I'll spend every day making up for the years we lost, if she'll let me."
