Page 89 of The Viper
Elias shook his head. “Told you he was serious.”
“Serious?” Ryker said. “Man looks like he’d walk through fire for her.”
Lucas shot him a look that didn’t quite hide a smile. “You done?”
“For now,” Ryker said.
Laughter broke the tension, warm and easy, and for a moment, I forgot the reason any of us were here. It just felt like belonging.
Watching them, it struck me that I wasn’t even sure Lucas had met these brothers of his yet, but that didn’t seem to matter. There was an ease between them that went deeper than time. They were all cut from the same cloth: steady, capable men who moved like they’d been trained for storms.
Noah appeared next, his usual calm threaded with fatigue. “Glad to see introductions are happening,” he said, stepping into the kitchen. “My wife, Hallie Mae, wanted to come down, too, but morning sickness had other plans. She’s finally in her second trimester, so we’re hoping that eases soon.”
“Congratulations,” I said sincerely. “That’s wonderful.”
His eyes softened. “Thank you. She’s excited, but she keeps threatening to name the baby after whichever brother stresses me out the least.”
“Then it won’t be one of us,” Ryker said dryly.
Noah chuckled. “Exactly.”
The lightness was contagious. Every smile, every small joke chipped away at the walls I’d built around myself. No one here treated me like the version of Lexi the world knew—no scripted interviews, no watchful stares waiting for the headline-worthy crack. They treated me like someone real. Someone worth knowing, not owning.
I caught Lucas watching me, that quiet intensity in his gaze tempered now by something gentler.Home, it seemed to say.You’re home.
I wasn’t sure when my chest had last felt this steady.
The sound of the front door opening broke the moment. Footsteps echoed through the foyer, firm and confident. Atlas turned slightly toward the sound. “That’ll be them,” he said.
A few seconds later, a woman appeared—tall, striking, poised in a way that came from equal parts grace and grit. She wore a navy suit, her blonde hair pulled back, her expression alert but not unkind.
“Mayor Kennedy,” Atlas said with a nod.
Behind her came Ethan Dane—Lucas’s brother from Montana. Taller, bigger, quieter. The room seemed to recognize him instinctively, the same way people sense lightning in a storm cloud. He gave a brief nod to the others, then to me.
“Ethan,” Atlas greeted.
The mayor turned her attention to me then, her gaze steady and warm. “Ms. Montgomery,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Natalie Kennedy, mayor of Charleston and Ethan’s fiancé. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.”
“Likewise,” I said. “And please—call me Lexi.”
Her handshake was firm. “Then you should call me Natalie.”
She moved easily among them, comfortable in a room full of powerful men who clearly respected her. The dynamic shifted subtly—the energy focusing, tightening, the laughter giving way to purpose. Even still, she radiated calm authority.
“Now,” Natalie said, looking around the table. “Ethan filled me in on the basics during the drive. I understand we’ve got a situation. Tell me what you need from me.”
The room fell quiet, every eye turning toward Lucas and Noah.
And just like that, the warmth of family folded seamlessly into the steel of mission.
Whatever came next, we’d face it together.
And for the first time in my life, I believed that wasn’t just something people said. It was something they did.
Noah gestured toward the archway that led out of the kitchen. “Let’s take this to the war room,” he said, his tone shifting.
As everyone began to move, Delphine—one of Dominion Hall’s private chefs—looked up from the stove where she was plating something that smelled delicious. “Don’t go too far,” she called. “Breakfast will be ready when you’re done saving the world.”
