Page 46 of Forged

I look down at our hands. At the rings on our fingers, then at the man who walked into my life like a controlled burn and somehow made me want to stand closer to the heat.

“Should I be scared?” I say.

“Of my family? Yes, but only because they love hard and are a bit crazy sometimes. Of the rest of my world? No,” he lifts his head, “I promise you that you will be protected.”

I meet his gaze. “I’m going to hold you to that.” I relax in my seat. “I guess I won’t run just yet.”

A relieved smile forms on his lips.

“Good,” he says. “Because I don’t think I’d let you.”

Harry Reid Airportis quieter than it should be for a Sunday morning in Vegas. It’s just past nine, and after the night I had, the calm is needed. I move through security without incident, pick up an Earl Grey from a kiosk near the concourse, and reach my gate with time to spare. All I want is altitude and silence, enough distance for the noise to dull.

Boarding for first class is called. I toss the empty cup, sling my duffel over my shoulder, and join the line. I’m tall enough to justify the upgrade without guilt. Legroom isn’t a luxury; it's a necessity.

I make my way to seat 2A. I stow my bag overhead and settle in as the cabin fills with the usual post-Vegas fallout—tourists nursing headaches behind sunglasses, couples who won’t survive the flight home, men already revising the story of what happened here into something more flattering. Vegas gives people permission for stupidity, then leaves them alone with the consequences.

I’ve been watching Lars and Neomi for the past twenty-four hours. They didn’t see me, but that will change soon enough.

I followed at a distance as they left the casino floor, handstangled, laughter spilling into the night air. I waited across the street while they stumbled into the chapel, neon bleeding across the sidewalk, washing the windows in cheapened colors. I didn’t need to hear the vows because I saw the rings when they emerged back into the night. I saw Lars fold the paperwork with care and slide it into his back pocket, already treating it like something worth protecting.

They came out married.

She lifted her hand, staring at the band on her finger as if she were committing it to memory. He pulled her close and said something in her ear. Whatever it was, made her laugh before she pressed her mouth to his, unbothered by the crowd, the cameras, or the fact that their new commitment could turn disastrous.

The boarding door closes, and the cabin settles into routine. I fasten my seat belt and look out the window as the plane pushes back from the gate, as the city‌ begins to recede.

I saw the rings again this morning.

Lars Marchetti moves differently than most men. There’s discipline in him, the kind that comes from choosing consequences before action. Violence sits beneath the surface, controlled and sharpened into purpose. Men like that don’t fall often.

But when they do, they fall hard.

Neomi Valentine is dangerous in her own way. She survives by spotting angles before anyone else realizes a game has begun. She reads people the way other people read menus, already calculating the cost before she moves. She doesn’t give herself away easily.

And yet she’s already bending toward him.

The engines roar to life, their vibrations roll up through the floor as the plane lines up on the runway. I pull my phone from my pocket and open the secure thread, typing quickly.

Me:Boarded. I’ll confirm when I touch down in Austin.

The reply comes back before we leave the ground.

Got it. Stay alert.

I put my phone in airplane mode and slide it away as the plane accelerates, Vegas shrinking into desert and distance. I close my eyes, letting the sound of the engines settle into my bones.

They’re beautiful and dangerous together.

And now that they’re married, the board has shifted.

We’rewheels down in Austin a few hours later, and the driver takes us straight to the Argent so I can collect my things. The hotel has always been a placeholder for me. I’ve lived out of suitcases for years. But this time is different.

This time, I’m not moving to another city, I’m moving in with my husband.

In my suite, Lars sits on the couch while I head to the bedroom.

“Will thirty minutes be enough time?” he asks.