Chapter eight

Dressed in my tight black suit, it's my first day back as an Elite after almost two weeks at home, spending time with my family and today's meeting is important. Though I'm eager to dive back in and reclaim control over my city, a part of me aches at the thought of leaving Wren and the kids. It feels too fucking soon, but Wren demanded I jump back in—to figure out what the fuck is going on so we can finally move forward with our future.

I've noticed Wren slowly returning to her old self. She's had a few nightmares that I noticed since I've been back, but she brushes them off, and I know time will heal those wounds. But the silence about her father? That's either a blessing or a fucking curse. I have no idea what's going on in her head, and it gnaws at me.

As I jog down the stairs, adjusting my Rolex on my wrist, I spot Wren by the door, a bright smile on her pretty face. The sight of her makes everything else fade into the background.

When I reach the bottom step, I stride toward her before slipping my arm around her waist and pulling her close to me. My hand finds the side of her neck, my thumb resting on her jaw as I lean down, pressing my lips firmly against hers.

I can tell she's feeling better when she presses her body close to mine. When she breaks the kiss, she lingers close, her breath warm against my lips as her big brown eyes search mine.

"I love you. Be careful out there," she whispers, and I can sense the fear in her voice, the worry that still grips her every time I step out into the world. Now that she knows just how harsh this life can be, I understand that it's going to take time for her to move past what's happened, and I can't fucking blame her.

I capture her lips again, this time with more pressure, my hand sliding down to her ass, giving it a firm squeeze as if to reassure her.

"Always, baby, always," I murmur against her mouth.

She smiles, and I reluctantly release her, turning to the door. As I step outside, the morning air hits me, and I stride down the path, my head down, fishing for my car keys in my pocket. When I finally look up, I halt in my tracks.

A black matte Lamborghini, identical to the one I crashed that night, is parked in the driveway. Jasper stands beside it, dressed in a sharp black suit, a big smile plastered on his face. I hear Wren's footsteps approaching from behind, and her arms snake around my waist. I glance down at her hands as she presses her body firmly against mine.

"Do you like it, Daddy?"

The moment the word slips out of her mouth, I pause, the Lambo completely forgotten. I turn quickly in her arms, my eyebrow lifted, and she looks at me with a playful smile, obviously knowing the effect that word has on me.

Her small palms glide up the front of my pristine suit, tracing the fabric as her eyes follow her hands. "I bought it just for you," she says, "with some of the profits I made while you were gone."

I feel my brows shoot up in surprise and as her words sink in, I slip my hands around her waist, drawing her in even closer, unable to hide the appreciation I feel.

"You can now go back to business just as you used to," she adds, with a hint of mischief.

A small smile tugs at my lips, but truthfully, I'm fucking speechless. I've never been the kind of man to have or want gifts given to me, especially something as extreme as this, but it's not just the car—it's what it symbolizes. It's who she is as a woman that blows me away every fucking time.

As she tiptoes up to wrap her arms around me, pulling me close, my hands instinctively find their place on her peachy ass, squeezing gently as I lean down, our faces just inches apart.

"I've put everything back in your name, Arlo," she whispers. "It's all yours again. The business, the money, this house."

My brows pinch together as I shake my head, confusion and disbelief churning inside me. "And why the fuck would you do that?"

"Because it's yours, baby, not mine. I didn't expect it when I received it, and I don't expect it now that you're back. It's all your hard work, and everything should and needs to be in your name." she says, her words full of sincerity, her big brown eyes scanning mine.

I rest my forehead against hers, trying to process her words. How could someone be so selfless, so fucking giving? She makes me feel something that no one else ever has. She leans in, placing a gentle kiss on my cheek, her lips soft and plump.

"Have a great day, and I'll see you later, hubs," she whispers into my ear, the nickname making my dark heart clench.

As she starts to pull away, something inside me snaps. I can't let her go, not yet. I grab her waist and pull her back into me, tilting her head up and crushing my lips against hers. The kiss is fierce, eager, our mouths ravaging each other. I force her to bow backward from the savagery of my tongue and when we finally break apart, my breath is ragged, and I can feel the heat of arousal pooling low in my gut, my dick now hard and aching.

She smiles as she steps away from me, and I have to discreetly adjust myself to avoid my fucking brother seeing, which makes her giggle. She turns and heads for the door, her tight jeans highlighting every sway of her curvy hips. I watch her ass bounce with each step until she closes the door behind her.

"Fucking slut is way overdue a wrecking," I mutter under my breath, the frustration to fuck her brains out now overwhelming.

With a heavy sigh, I turn to face Jasper, who's still waiting. I stride toward him, lifting my chin in acknowledgement. When we're close, we shake hands firmly, and he gives me a pat on the back.

"Welcome back, brother," he says with a grin.

On the way to my first Elite meeting since I've been back, Jasper and I are stuck in a gridlock that feels like it's never going to end. The frustration starts to claw at me, so I slip my hand into my inside pocket, pull out a pack of cigarettes, and bite one out.

"Didn't you give that shit up while you were away?" Jasper asks, glancing at me with that knowing smirk.

I raise an eyebrow, take a deep drag, and exhale the smoke slowly.

"Mind your fucking business."

He chuckles and I lean back in my seat, draping one hand lazily over the top of the steering wheel, trying to let the nicotine do its job.

"So, how are you feeling about getting back to work?"

I take another drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs before answering him.

"How I used to feel—I don't give a shit. It's fucking normal to me."

I catch him nodding out of the corner of my eye, the weight of what's coming hanging unspoken between us. After a moment, I decide to cut through the bullshit.

"How did Wren do with the Elites while I was gone?"

He turns to me, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Truthfully?"

I pull my head back slightly in confusion.

"Well, I don't want you to fucking lie, so tell me."

His smile deepens, and I can see the admiration in his eyes as he answers. "She was a fucking force, Arlo. Handled herself like she's been in the game her whole life. The Elites didn't just tolerate her—they fucking respected her. She made moves, smart ones. Earned her place, no question."

I side-eye him, adjusting myself in my seat, "Oh, yeah. How?"

"Well, at the first Elite meeting that your mom and I took her to, there was this one Elite running his mouth, talking utter shit about you," Jasper explains.

My eyes snap to his, and before I can even ask which motherfucker dared to talk shit about me, he continues.

"Wren whipped out her gun, shot him straight in the head without a moment's hesitation, and then went on to threaten every single Elite in the room. Told them if they ever spoke badly about her husband again, she'd do the same to them."

My brows shoot up, shock and pride flooding my system. My girl's got some serious fucking balls—pulling a stunt like that could've easily gotten her killed, but instead, she stood her ground and earned their respect the brutal way.

"From that moment on, they liked her," he adds. "They're still asking if she'll be coming back because they like how she runs."

I'm still trying to process this new side of Wren when he continues, "So, will she be returning?"

I weave the Lambo through a clearing in the road, my mind running, but my answer is clear as day. "Yeah, she wants to," I finally say, my voice steady. "But that's up to her.

"And you? Do you want her to?" Jasper presses, his tone digging deeper, trying to get at what I'm really thinking.

I pause, thinking about it because it's complicated as hell. On one hand, I want her to stay the same woman I fell in love with. We balanced each other out in some strange, fucked-up way that just worked, but on the other hand, I know how quickly this shady world can suffocate you, pull you under until there's nothing left but the darkness. I don't want to lose her to the madness that's surrounded me my entire life. Yet, there's a twisted part of me that would love to see her right beside me, not just at home but as an Elite too. Maybe she can find a way to balance it, to stay grounded where so many have lost themselves.

When I finally pull up outside the meeting building in the heart of NYC, I cut the engine and shrug, trying to play it off.

"She can do whatever the fuck she wants. If she wants to return when she's ready, so be it."

Before Jasper can respond, the door lifts and I step out into the cool air. I glance around, taking one last drag from my cigarette, letting the smoke curl up into the sky before I crush the butt beneath my polished black shoe.

Jasper rounds the car as I straighten my suit, adjusting my tie as if I'm gearing up for fucking war. Which I could be. He follows behind me, and together we stride into the towering building.

As we reach the top floor, I walk toward the double doors with Jasper close behind me. Without hesitation, I push them open, the heavy wood parting with a forceful swing. Every pair of eyes in the room turns to me as I make my entrance, the tension clear. I stop at the head of the long table, where forty or so of the most dangerous men in the world are seated.

Some of them look at me with wide-eyed disbelief, clearly taken aback that the rumours of my existence were true. Others nod in acknowledgment, showing blend of respect and relief, but a few can't seem to meet my gaze, likely processing their guilt and betrayal.

"Good morning, gentlemen," I begin. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."

I pull out my chair and take a seat, leaning back with a casual confidence as I rest my ankle over my knee. Jasper slides into the chair beside me as I glance around the room, noticing that none of them have spoken a word since I walked in.

"So, what the fuck have I missed?" I ask, breaking the silence.

"Nothing much, Arlo. Everything has been running smoothly in your absence. It's good to have you back," one of the Elites to my right responds.

My eyes flick to him, and I give a small nod. "That's good to hear."

"Your wife seemed to have taken the reins pretty well," another voice chimes in from my left. I turn to look at him, my expression unreadable, and give another brief nod.

"Anything I should be made aware of?"

"Our white supplier has been causing some issues, but we've got a potential replacement lined up. Better prices, but we'll need your approval of course," the Elite adds.

"Run it by Jasper," I reply firmly. "We'll get our testers in. Cheaper is good, but the quality needs to stay the same, if not better."

The man nods in agreement, and the room settles into a more normal rhythm. As I answer a flurry of questions, I take a moment to scan the room, reminding myself that while I might have been away, nothing has changed. This is still my fucking city, my throne, and I'm ready to take back control.

"Arlo, could we have a word after this in private?"

The room falls into a tense silence as Viktor Orlov's Russian accent cuts through the conversations. My eyes snap to the back of the room, where he's perched, not noticing him before, and I feel my blood start to boil. The last thing I wanted was to lose my shit on my first day back, but seeing his face makes it impossible.

"What the fuck are you doing in here, Viktor?"

I peer around the room, my sanity slipping as I see no one stepping up to explain why this bastard is here.

"Who the fuck allowed Viktor Orlov in here?" I bark.

The silence that follows is deafening, and my rage only intensifies. I turn my attention back to Viktor, raising an eyebrow as I fight to keep my composure. "I have nothing to fucking say to you; get the fuck out. You're not an Elite."

Viktor remains unfazed, leaning forward slightly as he replies, "You don't consider me an Elite, Arlo? Your father did."

My jaw clenches at the mention of my father, and I shoot a glance at Jasper, who looks as pissed as I am. Turning back to Viktor, I cock my head to the side, my tone cold. "If you hadn't noticed, you old fuck, I'm not my father. I killed that cunt, if I remember correctly."

I point to the spot where I ended my father's miserable life without taking my eyes off Viktor. "Right there. I skinned that motherfucker alive before putting him out of his fucking misery."

I stand slowly stand, placing my hands down firmly onto the table. "Unless you want the same fate, I suggest you get the fuck out of here. I don't like you; I don't like your family, and I fucking despise your line of work in this city."

Viktor is defiant, raising his chin. "Someone has to do the trafficking, Arlo, seeing as you won't."

He's right, unfortunately. In the underworld, trafficking is a part of the criminal network, a vile necessity for some, but that doesn't mean I have to fucking like it. My history with his family only adds fuel to my hatred.

I straighten up, eyes locked on his, the room still dead silent.

"I don't have to justify myself to you or anyone else in this room. I will never be on board with trafficking, there's others for that, and if that's what you're here to discuss, you're wasting your fucking time. Now, get out before I lose what little patience I have left."

Viktor just sits there, staring blankly at me, and I can feel the blood rush to my head, my patience snapping.

"What the fuck do you want?" I yell bitterly.

He remains unnervingly calm. "In private," he suggests, like we're having a friendly fucking chat.

I straighten up, sliding my hands into my pockets as I shrug casually, the opposite to how I feel. "No, Viktor. You can say it in front of my fucking men. Spit. It. Out. Or fuck off."

Viktor takes a moment, composing himself, his gaze shifting around the room before locking onto mine.

"Your father owed me." I scoff, barely able to contain my urge to rip him apart. "The night you killed him," Viktor continues, "I paid him a substantial amount of money for a jewel, and we agreed he would work with me to take over the system."

My eyes narrow as the pieces fall into place and I know exactly what he's talking about. "She was, as he said, "priceless." Yet because you killed him, I never received my jewel."

My jaw clenches so hard I can feel the pressure in my skull, but I force myself to stay calm. I walk slowly around the table, my eyes never leaving Viktor, and the room watches my every move.

When I stop behind him, I lean down, placing one hand on the table in front of him, and whisper menacingly close to his ear.

"How about you fuck your jewel?"

He side-eyes me, his voice rising just enough to challenge me.

"You are next in line for this debt, Arlo!"

I snicker, straightening up as I glance around the room, taking in the faces of the Elies. It's time to test their loyalty.

"Viktor here," I say, addressing the room, "claims I owe him something. He thinks because my father promised him something, that debt falls to me."

The room is still, eyes shifting between me and Viktor. I can see the uncertainty, the calculations running through their minds. They know what it means to side with me—or against me.

I glance down at Viktor, a mocking smirk playing on my lips. "And you still want your jewel, do you?"

"That's right," he responds.

I raise an eyebrow, pretending to consider his words. "Not just a simple repayment?" I shrug.

He gives a small shake of his head. "No, I would like to meet my jewel first and then make my decision."

The audacity of his words hits me like a shockwave, and I can't help but laugh—loud and unhinged, the kind of laugh that makes the room feel like it's closing in on itself.

"Did you hear this motherfucker?" I ask the room, still laughing like a fucking madman.

Some of the Elites chuckle nervously along with me, while others just sit there, frozen, knowing me too well to find this funny, but before anyone can react, my laughter stops, and without warning, I flick my blade out from my sleeve. In one swift, brutal movement, I slam it down into Viktor's hand, pinning it to the table with a force that makes the entire room wince.

Viktor lets out a bloodcurdling scream, a sound that echoes off the walls. Some Elites jump to their feet in shock, while others remain seated, eyes wide, too stunned, or too smart to move. My hand stays firm on the knife's handle as I peer around the room, my breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps through gritted teeth. Viktor's free hand clutches at mine, desperate to free himself from the searing pain, but I press down harder, enjoying the way he squirms.

"You stupid cunts have no idea who he's speaking about, do you?" I roar.

I return my wide gaze back to Viktor in an eerie manner, his face slick with sweat, contorted in agony. I lean in closer, dropping to a deadly whisper. "That gem was Wren Hayes. My fucking wife!"

As soon as her name leaves my lips, I notice the change in the room. The Elites who had stood up, ready to interfere, now sink back into their seats, their expressions shifting. The realization hits them all at once—this isn't just about business anymore. It's personal, and they know what that means when it comes to me.

The rush of power surges through me as I twist the knife in Viktor's hand, and he screams again, the sound sweeter than any fucking music. The control, the dominance—it's a feeling I've missed so much, and I relish it, letting it fill the room, letting them all feel it. This is my world, and I'll be damned if anyone—especially this Russian piece of shit—thinks they can take anything from me without paying the price.

"Arlo, Maddox…" One of the Elites dares to say hesitantly.

My eyes snap to him like a predator locking onto prey. "Fuck, Maddox!" I bark, cutting him off mid-sentence.

In a swift motion, I yank the knife from Viktor's hand, and his shriek pierces the air. Blood drips from the blade and onto the table as I point it at the room, my voice seething with rage. "I don't give a fuck about anyone who fucks with my family, just like you cold-hearted bastards don't either."

I focus on Viktor, my anger honing in on him. I lower the knife to just beneath his eye, leaning down until our gazes are locked.

"Maddox knows where I am if he's ever big enough to fucking face me. Now get the fuck out of here before I take your eye out too."

Viktor, pale, and trembling, begins to stand. I take a step back, allowing him the room to leave, my eyes never leaving him as he clutches his bleeding hand and makes his way toward the door.

As soon as he's gone, I wipe his blood off my blade on my pants and flick it closed. I slide it back up my sleeve before taking a moment to straighten my suit and collect myself. Just as I'm about to return to my seat, one of the Elites can't help but speak up.

"Jesus, Arlo, you haven't changed one bit."

My eyes meet his, and I lift a brow, my expression now detached. "And don't ever forget it."

I move around the table before taking a seat in my chair, feeling my sense of control returning. Maybe this was needed. Maybe they thought that in my supposed ‘death,' I had somehow become weak. The truth is, I'm more composed, stronger, and wiser now. And that only makes me an even more of a dangerous monster than I was ever before.

I sit forward, my eyes scanning the room as I address them all, my tone stern and final. "I don't want to hear any more about my father's debts or his actions in these meetings. I am not him, and they have nothing to do with me. Do I make myself fucking clear?"

Every head in the room nods in unison and once I'm satisfied, I smooth down my tie with my hand while relaxing back, letting the tension in the room simmer down.

"Good. Now, where were we?"