Page 36 of Fury
"And that place is here? With him?" Dad jerks his chin toward Greyson.
I take a deep breath, knowing my next words will change everything between us. "Yes. With him."
The silence that follows is deafening. Mason's smirk has vanished, replaced by genuine surprise. Dad looks like I've slapped him.
"It's not just about convenience, Dad," I add. "It's not just because I'm already here. Greyson and I… there's something between us. Something real. Something worth exploring."
Greyson moves to stand beside me, his hand finding the small of my back in a gesture that's both supportive and possessive.
"I care about your daughter, Wilder." His voice is steady. "More than I can put into words. This isn't some fling or rebellion. This is real for me too."
Dad's gaze shifts between us, something complicated passing across his features—anger, resignation, and underneath it all, a father's fear of losing his little girl.
"How long have you known?" he asks finally.
I blink, confused. "Known what?"
"That you have feelings for him. That this was where you were heading."
The question catches me off guard. I glance up at Greyson, finding strength in the steady blue of his eyes. "I think I've always known, on some level. Since before I left for LA. But I wasn't ready then."
"And now you are?" Dad's voice is quieter now, the fight draining out of him.
"Now I am," I confirm. "Yesterday showed me what matters, Dad. Life is too short to waste time being afraid of what I feel."
Mason clears his throat, looking uncomfortable with the emotional turn of the conversation. "So, what, you're just going to live here now? With the president of the Devil Souls?"
"I don't know what I'm doing long-term," I admit. "I still have the salon job with Aunt Brittany. I still need my own space eventually. But for now, yes, I'm staying here."
Dad runs a hand over his face, a gesture I recognize from childhood—his way of processing something he doesn't want to accept. Finally, he looks at Greyson, all trace of anger replaced by something far more dangerous: paternal warning.
"If you hurt her," he says quietly, "if you push her into club life before she's ready, if you ever make her feel less than the treasure she is, there won't be a patch on your back that can protect you from me. President or not."
Greyson nods, accepting the threat with the gravity it deserves. "I'd expect nothing less."
"And you," Dad turns to me. "You call your mother. Today. Explain this to her yourself, because I'm not doing it for you."
I step forward, wrapping my arms around him in a hug that catches him by surprise. "I will. I promise."
After a moment, his arms come around me, careful of my injuries. "I just want you safe, baby girl," he murmurs into my hair.
"I know, Daddy," I whisper back. "I am safe. With him."
Dad releases me with visible reluctance, stepping back to regard Greyson with narrowed eyes. "We're not done discussing this."
"I'd be disappointed if we were," Greyson replies, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
Mason shakes his head. "Well, this is going to make family dinners interesting."
The tension now broken, Dad moves toward the door. "Come on, Mason. Your mother's waiting for a report."
"Tell her I'll call soon," I promise. "And that I'll come for dinner tomorrow night."
Dad nods, his hand on the doorknob. "I'm holding you to that." He fixes Greyson with one last warning look. "Both of you."
"Wait!" I call out, my voice louder than intended as Dad twists the doorknob. Something inside me shifts, a sudden certainty I can't ignore. I sprint across the room, ignoring the protest from my bruised body, and throw myself into his arms.
"I love you, Daddy," I whisper fiercely against his leather cut. "Thank you for saving me. For understanding."
