Page 81 of Thor

"Three," I said.

"I've got club business this morning," he said, "but I'll be done by two. I can drive you, wait, and take you home after."

I shook my head. "That's not necessary. I might be a while, and I want to check in on Amy afterward." Another lie. "I can catch an Uber."

He frowned at this, turning to face me. "I don't like you using those ride services, Mandy. Especially not with the Serpents still causing trouble."

The mention of the Iron Serpents sent a cold shiver down my spine. Were they behind this? It had to be them. Who else would have reason to target me, to get to Thor through me?

"I'll be careful," I promised. "Broad daylight, public places only."

He didn't look convinced. “Sorry, I’ll drive you in. Don’want anyone to know where this cabin is.”

I knew better than to argue further. Thor focused on cooking, his movements precise and efficient. In minutes, he placed a plate of perfect scrambled eggs and crispy bacon in front of me, then sat across the table with his own heaping portion.

I forced myself to eat even though each bite threatened to choke me. Thor watched me between mouthfuls, his scrutiny never wavering. Throughout breakfast, I waged war against my shaking hands and the nausea churning in my stomach.

"You'd tell me if something else was wrong, wouldn't you?" he asked finally, his voice softer than most would believe possible from the feared Sergeant-at-Arms of the Heavy Kings.

I met his eyes, hating myself for what I was about to say. "Of course I would."

He reached across the table, his massive hand engulfing mine. "No one messes with what's mine, Mandy. Whatever it is, whatever you're worried about—I can fix it."

The fierce protectiveness in his voice made my heart ache. He probably could fix it—with his fists and whatever weapons he kept locked in the cabinet I pretended not to notice. But that kind of fixing would lead to violence, maybe worse. I couldn't risk it. Couldn't risk him.

"I know," I said, forcing a smile I didn't feel. "That's what makes you my hero."

His expression softened, and he squeezed my hand gently. But as he released me to return to his breakfast, I didn't miss the shadow of doubt that lingered in his eyes. Thor knew something wasn't right. And sooner or later, he would discover what it was.

I just had to make sure that when he did, it would be on my terms—not those of whoever was threatening to destroy us both.

Intheshower,Iturned the water as hot as I could stand it, letting it pound against my skin until it turned pink. Steam billowed around me, thick enough to blur the edges of the bathroom. I pressed my forehead against the cool tile, eyes closed tight, as if I could wash away the violation I felt. Someone had been watching us—watching our most private moments in Thor's sanctuary. The water couldn't scrub that knowledge from my mind, couldn't cleanse the feeling of invisible eyes on my naked body, on my most vulnerable self.

I scrubbed my skin raw, working shampoo through my hair with mechanical precision. Each movement methodical, controlled—the exact opposite of the chaos spinning through my mind.

I shut off the water with a vicious twist and reached for a towel, wrapping it around myself like armor. Think, Mandy. Think like the accountant who handles million-dollar portfolios without breaking a sweat. Think like the woman who manages the books for a tattoo parlor full of bikers without flinching when they bring in blood-spattered cash.

What did the blackmailer want? Money was the obvious answer. I had savings—not much, but a little put aside for Amy's treatments. Would my savings be enough to buy this person's silence?

But what if they wanted information instead? Details about the Kings' finances, their legitimate businesses, their less-than-legal operations. Information I had access to because they trusted me. Because Thor trusted me.

I dried myself with the same methodical precision I applied to spreadsheets, to ledgers, to the neat rows of numbers that made sense when nothing else did. Water dripped from my hair onto the bathroom floor. I ignored it, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

The woman who looked back at me appeared calm on the surface. Only the tightness around her eyes and the slight tremble in her hands betrayed her fear. I could do this. I could meet this blackmailer, find out what they wanted, protect Thor from knowing his sanctuary had been violated.

I dressed methodically, armoring myself in the clothes I'd worn yesterday—dark jeans and a fitted blouse. No trace of the woman who'd worn a pink onesie and called Thor "Daddy" remained visible. I blow-dried my hair, taming the naturally wavy copper strands into submission, pulling it back severely into a tight ponytail at the nape of my neck. Professional. Controlled. The Mandy Wright that clients saw, that colleagues respected.

My makeup came next. Foundation to cover the freckles Thor loved to kiss. Concealer to hide the shadows under my eyes from a night of too little sleep and too much emotion. Subtle eyeliner and mascara to make my eyes look alert, focused. A neutral lipstick that said "corporate professional," not "woman who'd been thoroughly kissed last night." Each product applied with precision, creating a mask that would show nothing of what I felt inside.

In the mirror, I watched my transformation. From the vulnerable woman who'd fallen asleep in Thor's arms to the competent CPA who handled high-pressure situations without flinching. The woman who never let emotion cloud her judgment. The woman who kept secrets for a living.

I straightened my shoulders, checking my appearance one final time. Perfect. Controlled. Hidden.

Behind this carefully constructed facade, terror churned like a living thing. Not just for myself—though the thought of those photos being released made me physically ill—but for Thor. For what this would do to him.

I'd seen glimpses of his rage before. The barely contained violence when Duke mentioned the Iron Serpents at a club meeting. The feral gleam in his eye when a drunk tried to grope me at King's Tavern. But that was nothing compared to what would happen if he discovered someone had invaded his sanctuary, had watched our most intimate moments.

He'd kill for this. And he wouldn't stop until he'd eliminated everyone involved, regardless of the consequences. I couldn't let that happen. I needed to handle this myself, contain the damage, protect him from his own protective instincts.

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