Page 166 of Undisputed Chaos
I'd always loved this room—the exposed brick walls, the massive platform bed with its charcoal sheets, the way the city lights painted everything in shades of dreams and desire.
But it had never felt complete until she'd started sleeping here, until her vanilla scent had mingled with themethat defined my space.
I settled onto the bed with her still in my arms, adjusting so she lay partly across my lap, her head resting against my chest where my heartbeat could remind her she was safe.
Her eyelashes fluttered as consciousness began to return, those ocean-blue eyes focusing on my face with sleepy confusion that quickly melted into relief.
"You're back," she whispered, her voice rough with sleep and emotion.
"Always," I promised, my hand finding her hair and stroking through the silken strands. “I’ll always come back to you."
She blinked slowly, awareness creeping in as she registered my changed clothes, the way I held her, the satisfied calm that had replaced the murderous rage she'd last seen.
Her fingers found my jaw, tracing the line with gentle reverence.
"Noah?" The single word carried everything—question, fear, hope.
"Paid for what he did," I answered simply, my voice carrying the finality of a door closing forever. "He'll never be able to touch you or Crew again. Never be able to hurt anyone again."
I watched her process this, saw the moment understanding settled in her eyes.
She didn't ask for details, didn't demand explanations or justifications.
She simply accepted what I'd done as the natural order of our world—that those who threatened what was mine faced consequences beyond their comprehension.
Her response was a soft sigh of relief as she burrowed deeper into my embrace, her arms winding around my waist like she was trying to merge our bodies into one.
"It's over," she breathed against my chest, and I felt the last of her tension drain away.
"It's over," I confirmed, my arms tightening around her. "Just us now, angel. Just our family."
The word 'family' caught in my throat, thick with emotions I was still learning to name. For twenty-seven years, family had meant pain, betrayal, and survival.
Then Connor and Jax had shown me it could mean loyalty, brotherhood, and protection.
But this, holding Isla while Crew slept safely in the next room, was something else entirely. This was what I'd been searching for without knowing it existed.
We lay in comfortable silence for long minutes, her fingers drawing absent patterns on my chest while I memorized the weight of her against me.
This was peace. This was contentment. This was what normal people felt when they said the word 'home.'
"Adrian?" Her voice was small, curious, pulling me from my thoughts.
"Mmm?"
"I just realized... I still don't know your last name."
She tilted her head to look at me, a sleepy smile playing at her lips.
"I know you told me about Wade Easton adopting you, about how Connor and Jax became your brothers. But you never actually said what name you took."
I chuckled, the sound rumbling through my chest and making her smile widen. "You noticed that, did you?"
“Duh, it’s you,” she said with that matter-of-fact tone that never failed to make my heart dance. "So? What is it?"
I was quiet for a moment, my fingers playing with the ends of her hair as I considered how to explain.
"Connor made up his name," I said finally. "Graves. It suited him with that death and darkness aura he carries. He wanted something that belonged only to him."
