The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 417

stens in absohutegunbrokkers seence. He doesnt interrupt, doesn’t age doesn’t

te the strangestraaedwaccedeatity of Knox’siast words. Hequstabscobosit, has heavy

sing and fahing beneath my hand.

sad, really, I sayy Heeeeazzedwhat he was right at the moment he couldn’t any of

ed knowing hebuut his sonheil

men don’t figuredhat butuuntil the bullet is already traveling, Lockers say soquetly.

t clean the blood off his hands. ¿ma. But if it gave you closure. then mottad he had

sexo say it before he dread

eme think about Beccaptcooldows she threw her life away for him: Sheechosse to burn

de him rather than buud scommetinggeaal

made her choices a long . Some people get addicted to the possion.

Ink peace is boong becaussaneey only deel alive when everything aroundtheemis

down. You aren’t like that youncever were.

ay wrapping my aam tighter acconadiis swaist. grounding myself in his sotion/earth. ‘I

1. is. I want the quiet! want use

got us he promises his voicedowaand nercely absolute. “Forever”

ogether in the silence dopadoogoooreet the neavy emotional weight of Kooooss

slowly liftingcleaving a clean,oppers space between us. But as the silencsesettless

another piece of the warehouse@puzzelfoms up in my mind, one i haven’t haatha

to shareeret.

ng

he

er

aby?

someone else at the warehouse.

posture instantly shifts, his muscles obteeming beneath my touch “Who?”

to

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antiegian, knew exactly who was and made pointdo say that he personally had 17

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pter 274-2

“Vane can say whatever he wants to keep his hands clean,” Locke says, his tone turning razor–sharp. “He might not have a quarrel with the Skulls, but the Skulls have a massive fucking quarrel with him.”

“Because of him working with Knox?”

“Because of the fucking drugs. There is no universe where the Skulls let a snake like Vane flood our streets and our homes with fentanyl.”

I nod.

“Knox was a loud, desperate street thug, but Vane is the one feeding the supply. Knox dying doesn’t mean the poison stops flowing. Vane probably thinks he can slip into the vacuum Knox left behind. He’s wrong.”

I look up at him. I know what’s coming. The war isn’t over – it’s just shifting focus from the unstable husband of my past to a calculated syndicate boss who operates in the shadows.

“Be careful with him, Locke,” I say softly, stroking his chest. “He isn’t wild like Knox. He’s patient.”

“So am I,” Locke replies simply. “And I’ve got a hell of a lot more to lose than he does.”

Xena has shifted in her sleep, her tiny body sprawled out completely upside down, four pink–padded paws sticking straight up in the air. Her oversized, floppy ears are draped over her eyes, and every few seconds, her dark little snout twitches into a ridiculous, dramatic smile as she chases imaginary intruders in her puppy dreams.

“Locke, she weighs seven pounds and her ears are bigger than her head. If someone walked through that door right now, I’d have to protect her.”

“Always,” Locke whispers, his mouth finding mine in a slow, lingering kiss that tastes like honey and feels like absolute safety. He pulls back just a fraction, resting his forehead against mine. “And that reminds me…”

“You… you found it?” I gasp, my voice cracking slightly. “Locke, I thought… when they grabbed me, I thought it was gone forever.”

Because of the thick white bandages wrapped tightly around my wrists, I can’t slip the solid band of silver back over my skin where it belongs. But Locke gently presses the smooth, cold metal directly into my palm, curling my fingers around it.

I hold it tight against my chest, tracing the familiar, intricate detail of the carved feathers, feeling every ridge and curve. I flip it over in my grip, running my fingertips across the custom script engraved into the polished inner curve.

Always.

“Can’t wear it just yet,” Locke says, his large hand wrapping around mine, sandwiching the silver cuff between us. “But as soon as Stitch takes those dressings off, I’m putting it right back where it belongs.”

“It never really left,” I whisper, holding the cuff right against my heart. “It’s part of me.”

“I love you, baby.”

“Right back at you, handsome.”

Locke pulls the heavy duvet up higher over our shoulders, sealing us into our own warm, impenetrable world.

essveer bandimmy handss coal butllacéssmy is a furnace. The darkoitwassute can Bottasthadows and its quiet wars: Tamiht, right here, have everything levermeend

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