Page 50 of Scornful

But… we’ve known each other for years.

"Deal with this later, brother." Runes' voice cuts through the tension, calm, trying to settle things down. "We have other business to handle first." He gestures to Laken, who's watching the drama with wide eyes.

Fenrir looks like he wants to argue, but Runes is our President, and we’ll do whatever he tells us.

After a long moment, he nods stiffly. "Fine. But this isn't over." He turns to me. "You and I will settle this. Count on it."

I nod, accepting my fate.

Whatever comes next, at least the secret's out.

No more lies, no more sneaking around.

While the focus shifts back to Laken, I catch Astrid's arm, pulling her aside. "You didn't have to do that," I whisper.

"Yes, I did." Her eyes are fierce. "I'm tired of hiding. Tired of pretending I don't feel what I feel."

"Your father's gonna kill me."

"Maybe." She touches my face gently, fingers coming away bloody. "But not if I have anything to say about it

Across the room, Laken starts talking, spilling everything about the Patriot's plans, but I barely hear him.

All I can focus on is Astrid beside me and the shitstorm we've just unleashed.

The war with the Patriot suddenly seems like the least of my problems.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Astrid

The smell of fresh paint and new leather fills the spa as I unlock the front door, flipping on the lights.

It's barely eight in the morning, but I couldn't sleep after what happened last night at the clubhouse.

All I kept seeing was my father's face when Emil outed us.

The fury in his eyes.

The way Geirolf just stood there and took the hits, not even trying to defend himself.

And me, standing between them like some romantic movie heroine, declaring my love in front of the entire club.

Gods, what was I thinking?

I head to the break room to start the coffee, my mind still spinning.

It’s all out there now, so there’s no taking it back.

Everyone knows about Geirolf and me.

The looks on their faces ranged from shock to anger to happiness. But the only happiness came from the old ladies.

The front door chimes, making me jump.

We're not open yet, but I forgot—today's furniture delivery day.

The club ordered new massage tables and waiting room chairs as part of their investment in making the spa a more profitable front.

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