The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 457

Chapter 224-2

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Afaint, genuine smile breaks through the tension on Willow’s face as she looks down at the puppy, before reaching down to smooth the soft fur between Xena’s ears.

“Well,” Willow murmurs. “At least the emotional support unit is on duty.”

Willow brings three mugs over to the island, setting them down on the marble, the steam rising

between us in quiet white curls. She slides one over to me and another to Jade before settling

onto the barstool across us, her hands wrapping tightly around her cup for warmth.

“Everything about this club still terrifies me,” Willow admits. “A few weeks ago, my life was completely normal. I thought Stitch was just… Stitch. I didn’t understand what it meant when he

put that leather cut on. I didn’t know what kind of world he actually lived in.”

She pauses, taking a slow breath that rattles slightly in her chest.

“But tonight… tonight hit me like a physical wall,” Willow says. “Before they left, Stitch came into the back room to check the medical kits. He didn’t say much. He just refilled his trauma wraps, checked his gun, and then he stood there looking at me for a long, long minute. He looked like he wanted to say a hundred things, but he didn’t know how.”

Her throat tightens, and she swallows hard, pressing her lips together until the color drains from

them.

“We haven’t even… we haven’t even kissed yet,” she says. “It’s all so brand new between us. But right before he turned to go, he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers were shaking just a little bit. He told me to come up here, stay with you two, and keep the doors locked.”

Jade and I sigh.

“For the first time in my life… I watched someone I genuinely care about walk out a door toward real, lethal violence. I felt a cold, hollow drop in my stomach, and it’s the realization that he’s out there in the dark, standing in the line of fire, and I can’t protect him. I can’t patch him up from a distance. I just have to sit here and wonder if he’s coming back.”

Jade reaches out, laying a steady palm over Willow’s trembling forearm. “Stitch is smart, Willow. He stays sharp, he knows how to handle himself, and he’s got every man covering at his side.”

“I know,” Willow says, taking a shaky sip of her tea. “It just changes you instantly, doesn’t it? One moment you’re getting to know someone, and the next, you trade all your peace of mind just to sit

in the dark and wait for them.”

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Chapter 224-2

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“That’s the exact price,” I say softly, reaching across the marble to touch Willow’s hand. “You stop

being an outsider, and you start holding the line. The vigil.”

Down at our feet, Xena lets out a sudden, high-pitched puppy grunt, her back legs kicking in her sleep as she chases imaginary phantoms. She rolls onto her side, her soft, pink-spotted belly exposed to the kitchen lights, her oversized front paws twitching against the wood.

Willow looks down at the pup, her face softening with a deep, genuine affection that cuts right through the fear in the room. She leans down, lightly scratching Xena’s belly.

Xena’s eyes flutter open, dark and sleepy, and she immediately lets out a satisfied, heavy puppy sigh, flopping her head comfortably onto Willow’s foot again.

“Look at her,” Willow murmurs. “She doesn’t know about Vane, or Grit, or the millions of dollars in drugs sitting in transport trucks. She just knows she’s warm, she’s safe, and her pack is right here. “That’s what we are,” Jade says. “A pack. The club likes to talk about patch-holders and prospects, but the women are the spine. When Knox tried to burn this whole city down, we held the line. They do the bleeding, but we make sure there’s a home standing when the dust clears.”

The clock hands move so, so slowly, almost backwards, it feels like. The city below us remains a sprawling grid of silent yellow streetlights and cold asphalt, hiding the storm brewing along the

bridge.

Suddenly and for no real reason, Xena pushes herself up off the floor, stumbling on her gangly legs before trotting over to my stool. She nudges her wet nose against my bare ankle, whining softly until I lean down and lift her small but sturdy frame into my lap.

She instantly curls into a tight, fuzzy circle against my chest, her warm chin resting over my forearm, her slow heartbeat rhythmic and steady against my pulse.

I wrap my arms around her soft fur, resting my chin on her head, letting her quiet innocence push back the last lingering shadows of panic.

“We’re waiting, sweet girl,” I say to her, the words settling into the quiet room with absolute 1 certainty. “Just waiting.”

“Waiting,” Willow echoes, picking up her tea mug and raising it slightly in a silent, solemn toast, her eyes clear and resolute now. “With hope and faith and love.”

“To the pack.” Jade raises her glass. “And to the men down there making sure our enemies don’t see another sunrise.”

We clink our mugs together in the quiet penthouse, three women sitting high above the dark world, tied to each other and the sleeping pup in my lap, holding the silent watch until the dawn breaks.

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