Chapter Seven

Riot

The Greenwald mansion, located in the suburbs of Austin, is ostentatious. It's easily the biggest house I have ever seen.

As the massive gate opens and I drive up the long stretch that I guess is supposed to be the driveway, I can't help but roll my eyes at the house, if it can even be called that. This place is like a palace. It's so massive, I bet it could house all of Austin's homeless population and still have space for a petting zoo.

I have to fight back another eyeroll once Sasha and I enter the house. The place looks like a museum on the inside. The marble pillars, the grand staircase, the chandeliers— it's all over the top and so cold. The wealth displayed inside the house is so ridiculous, it'd be comical if I couldn't feel Sasha's nerves coming off her in waves.

"Mr. Greenwald will see you in his office." A tall lanky man in an ill-fitting suit who I assume is the butler gestures down a hall to the left of the central staircase.

"Thanks, Ben," Sasha says shakily, sliding her hand into mine and starting forward when the man steps in our way.

"I'm sorry, Miss Alexandra, but your father wants to see the gentleman alone."

Sasha turns to me, panicked, and I flash her a smile. "It's okay. I guess I was bound to meet your father at some point," I tell her with a smile she doesn't return.

"No," she whispers. "You don't know him, Riot. He's—" She stops and considers her words before shaking her head. "I have to go with you."

"Nothing will happen to me, baby. I'll be fine."

She shakes her head again, clearly scared for me, which I don't understand. I have dealt with far scarier men than she could ever imagine. Being in an MC, especially one like the Steel Order, will have you dealing with the scummiest of criminals. A man in a business suit bound by oath to uphold the law does not scare me.

"You don't understand. My father, he . . . Jesus, he could ruin your life, Riot. I have seen him do it before."

"It's okay, baby," I whisper, leaning down and brushing my lips over her temple. "Any man terrified of your father does not deserve to be with you. I'll deal with this and then come get you. I still owe you a proper date."

She doesn't seem fully convinced by my words, but she lets me go. I give her an easy smile before following Ben. As the butler leads me down the hall to the office, I can't help but notice the opulence around me. The plush carpets, the gilded frames, and intricate woodwork—everything screams wealth and power.

The office is just as lavish. From the large mahogany desk that could easily double as a dining table to the shelves lined with leather-bound books and the overstuffed leather couches, it's all ridiculous really. I don't miss the two men seated on chairs with velvet upholstery and gold trim. They look enough like Sasha to tell me they're related. One looks to be several years older than me, while the other is older still, with an expression set in grim lines in an obvious attempt to intimidate me.

It's routine, I immediately realize. A show of power.

Calling me here to this extravagant setting and having me brought alone into this austere office only to be met with scowling faces is a routine these people seem to have perfected. I bet they do it all the time to anyone they wish to intimidate.

Well, they picked the wrong guy for that. I couldn't care less about their act. They might have more money than the devil himself, but at the end of the day, we're all the same. The numbers in your bank account don't mean a damn when you're six feet underground.

The room falls into an awkward silence when the butler closes the door behind me. I slide my fingers into my pockets and stare at the men in amusement. The older one glaring at me, I assume is Sasha's father, and I recognize the other one from all the billboards plastered around town. He must be David, the son vying for governor. The two look like watered-down versions of Sasha with their dull hair and lifeless eyes.

"This is the second time my sister skipped out early work," David says, placing an arm on the armrest and wrinkling his nose when he runs his eyes over my outfit. "That never happened before she met you."

"She is not a child," I tell him.

"Perhaps you're right. But that doesn't change anything. We cannot have people like you ruining our family's reputation."

"And by people like me, you mean?"

"Criminals."

Well, he sure knows how to get straight to the point. Damnit, I like this guy. I don't think he's fit to be the governor, but then again, I think all politicians are corrupt, so my view on that doesn't hold much weight.

"That's a bit of an old-school mindset, don't you think?" I ask, leaning back against the door. "Sasha is with me because she wants to be. I did not kidnap her or hold her hostage. No, this is her choice, and I don't intend on going anywhere until she tells me to herself."

The older man's eyes darken at my words, and I notice his jaw clench. "Let's cut to the chase. How much do you want?"

I smile, suddenly entertained by the duo. I see now where Sasha gets her "pay your problems to disappear" attitude.

"I don't need money," I tell her father.

"Judging by how you are dressed, I would say you absolutely do," the son says, and I smirk at the jab. "We've run a background check on you. Fifteen arrests but not a single conviction. That is impressive . . ."

"Thank you."

"We could easily bring back some of those charges and get you locked up, or simply make you disappear."

"Yeah, and what would you tell your sister happened to me?"

"Sasha is a beautiful young girl; she'll get over you. Now stop wasting time and name your price."

I laugh, suddenly glad that I came here today. I like a good challenge, and these men offer it. Threatening to have me arrested would terrify me if I thought they could actually pull it off. But I know if the cops ever had anything on me they could use, they'd have never let me go, regardless of the club's connections. The only fear I have is of losing Sasha. No woman has ever made me feel half the things that girl does. She brings out protective and possessive feelings in me that I never knew I had. With her, I feel calm, less chaotic. She makes me want to be better.

For her, I will be better.

"There is no amount of money or threats that could keep me away from Sasha," I inform them, my confidence taking them aback. Perhaps they are used to people dropping to their knees for favors, but there is nothing these two can offer me that I want.

Money, I have enough of that. Maybe not enough to buy a palace like theirs, but enough to support Sasha and myself. Their threats don't do much for me either. I have brothers who would stand by my side when push comes to shove. The Steel Order can be a real menace when it wants to, and these men don't want to see how far we are willing to go.

"This is my last warning to stay away from my daughter. It would be a shame if you and your little band of criminals woke up to an FBI raid, don't you think?"

My smirk falls at the older man's threat, and I meet his stare dead on. I don't doubt that he could do it. Hell, I bet he'd just need to make one phone call, and by tomorrow, the place will be flooded with sniff dogs and armed men.

Although the MC has been edging toward legal businesses, we still are not fully there yet. What we keep on the clubhouse property could easily land my brothers in jail and hurt many people in the process.

My twin, Cash, has told me time and time again that I have no concept of consequences, and I bet he'd be screaming "I told you so" if he was here right now. Heck, these people probably would even preferred him to me.

I breathe out a sigh, unwilling to be backed into a corner just yet. I don't want to lose Sasha, but the stakes are high. I cannot afford to be the downfall of the club that took me in when I had nothing. It's easier when the threat is just on me, but to add my brothers to the mix . . .

"You're looking at it the wrong way," I say, my eyes on Sasha's brother. "You're running for governor, and if the rumors are to be believed, your father will be campaigning for Congress in the next election."

The room falls into a dead silence following my words. "What are you getting at?" says the younger Greenwald eventually.

"I bet the two of you are thinking of marrying Sasha off to someone for a connection." I push off the door and walk toward them, seating myself on the empty couch without waiting to be invited. "I could be an asset or a liability. Depending on how you look at it."

The son scoffs. "What could someone like you offer us?"

"Bragging rights and votes," I say.

Ever since Cash told me about Sasha's family, I've been expecting something like this, and I thought the whole thing through. I knew these people would never want me to be with their daughter, not out of concern for her but for the bargaining chip they would be losing. To them, Sasha is a means to an end.

"We have plenty of support," Sasha's father counters. "And everything we have done for this great state is well known."

"Everything you've done? Tell me, Attorney General Greenwald, what exactly have you done? Do you even know who your core constituents are?"

He laughs mockingly. "Crime is down across the state, but especially in Austin. Just recently, a major human trafficking ring was uncovered and dismantled! We have a solid base among the middle class and the wealthy elite. I've been in the game a long time, boy. I know what I'm doing."

"Crime might be down, but it has nothing to do with you. Austin's police force is known to be full of crooked cops. Hell, some of those traffickers you mentioned were cops. They certainly didn't break up the trafficking ring, the Steel Order MC did, among other things. We got rid of the Broken Chains MC, one of the most violent organizations in the South. You only look good because of us. As for votes, you might have the support of the wealthy elite, but that's only a small percentage of Texans."

"What do you know about voter demographics?" David demands with scoff.

"I know that the majority of Texas voters are blue-collar workers and suburbanites. Know who cares about crime rates? Soccer moms. And who can relate more to a blue-collar worker pulling eighty-hour work weeks to put food on the table for his kids, you or the mechanic he knows from his local bar, who happens to be a member of a motorcycle club? Who do they trust more? The politicians raising taxes or the motorcycle club sponsoring free meals at the city's shelters and youth centers to keep their kids off the street?"

"What are you getting at?" Sasha's father demands, red in the face.

"Since our current prez, Priest, took over the club, he's established a dozen club chapters across Texas and more in Louisiana. We're over two thousand members strong. Crime across the entire state has dropped, but most significantly in Austin. What I'm getting at, sir, is that without everything the Steel Order has been doing behind the scenes to bring stability to Austin in particular, but also Texas as a whole, your son's campaign—and your career, for the matter—would be dead in the water. What do you think will happen if we go public with evidence of who really stopped the trafficking ring and dismantled the Broken Chains? You've been taking credit for our good deeds, Mr. Greenwald. What would the public say if they knew?"

Both men splutter with indignation, and I give myself a mental pat on the back. It was a long shot, but it looks like the research I've been doing at night after Sasha falls asleep is paying off.

"You can't go public with anything without admitting you've broken the law. You're bluffing," the attorney general growls.

"Maybe, but you can't prosecute the entire club, and you'd have no proof which individuals were directly involved. And what will the public say about an AG who goes after the good guys? We'd win in the court of public opinion, and we both know that's the only one that really matters when it comes to elections. Public office is won or lost in the media these days. By coming after us, you'd only be giving us a platform to further denounce you and your son. Are you willing to take that risk?"

"So, what do you want?" David asks, standing and pacing away from his father.

"What I've been saying all along. Sasha," I tell him.

"And what do we get in return? There has to be some benefit for us," he responds, sliding smoothly into negotiation-mode like the lawyer he is.

I pause for a moment, pretending to think it over, but the truth is I've already talked this all out with my club brothers when I'd stopped by the clubhouse for Church the day before. True to his word, Cash had ratted me out to our president, and Priest had a thing or two to say. But he is nothing if not fair and was willing to hear me out. Things might have gone differently had this all happened before meeting his fiancée, Sky, but these days, Priest knows how it feels to be in love. He, along with Knight, Reaper, and Cash, helped me devise a plan for this very scenario.

"You agree to leave Sasha alone to live her life the way she wants, with whomever she wants, and you can continue to take credit for the Steel Order's good deeds. We'll also make it known that the Greenwald's have our full support in the upcoming election."

The tension in the air is so thick, it could be cut through by a knife, and I can tell the two men had not expected this. Perhaps they figured they'd need only whatever support they could get from the wealthiest donors and the connections they'd forged in their careers. But they have to see now that those won't be enough, not with corruption rampant in the city.

"You'll be good to her?" Sasha's father asks, surprising me. I didn't doubt that he loves his daughter, but hadn't expected genuine concern for her wellbeing to factor into our conversation, assuming he'd be primarily concerned with his son's campaign for governorship.

"I love her. There is nothing I wouldn't do for her. I'm as much hers as she is mine," I tell him, my eyes locked with his so he can read the sincerity in my gaze.

He nods once before saying, "Go on then."

I glance at Sasha's brother, who stares back at me with an unreadable expression, but his shoulders have lost some of their tension, and I take that to mean he is agreement with his father. I shoot up to my feet and head for the door, tempted to make a snarky remark, but for once, I rein myself in.

I leave the office and head back the way I came, unsurprised to find a worried Sasha pacing at the foot of the stairs.

Her gaze shoots to me, and I read the worry in those beautiful eyes. She rushes to me and stops, running her eyes all over me, perhaps looking for visible marks. "Are you hurt?" she whispers, running her hands all over my body and petting me in a way that sends blood rushing to my cock. "No, of course not. My father would never hurt you. Not physically at least. What did he say? Did he threaten you? The club?"

"He did," I tell her with a smile. "Your brother was there too."

"You mean David?"

"Is he the one running for governor?" She nods. "Then yes, he was there too."

"Oh God, David is just as bad as father. What did they do?"

"They offered me money to go away," I tell her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her flush against me. "How much do you think they'd be willing to give me?"

Her eyes fill with hurt as she stares at me, but she doesn't try to break the embrace. "A lot. Probably a million at least." I whistle, breaking into a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. "You should take the money, Riot."

"Sasha . . ."

"I won't hate you if you do, I promise," she whispers softly.

I drop my forehead to hers, soaking in her sweet floral scent that always sends my heart racing. "Baby, do you really believe I would let someone bribe me to stay away from you?"

"Riot . . ."

"I won't go down without a fight, Sasha. I can always make more money, but there is only one you," I say, brushing my lips gently over hers. "I will do anything to keep you by my side. I will earn the right to be with you, forever. I love you."