“Out of what business?” Bullet pretty much demands, he’s so forceful with his words.
All eyes are on Lorenzo, but right now, he’s the only one I can see. I’m not sure where he’s going with this, but I hold my breath in anticipation of whatever the fuck he’s going to say. Because he called this meeting, and I know this is about more than just some bikes.
He sucks in a deep, ragged breath. It sounds like it’s filling his lungs to capacity before he lets it out with a few coughs as we all watch and wait in anticipation of what the fuck he’s going to say next.
“The drugs, the guns, transporting, and the girls. I don’t want to be part of it anymore. I made my money, and I had hopedto pass the torch, but I can’t be trusted to make those kinds of decisions within my group.”
“What happened during your investigation of your men?” Bullet asks before he comments on the out-of-the-business announcement.
Lorenzo slides his palm across the sides of his hair, smoothing down whatever he feels has come out of place, which is nothing. This man is probably the most put-together guy his age I’ve ever seen in person. He’s a bit broken right now, but he still has his shit somewhat together. I have to give credit where credit is due when it comes to Lorenzo.
“What’s left of my crew is beyond skeleton. I’ve been able to find a placement for them elsewhere. They’re happy with a change in scenery. I’m liquidating everything.”
I want to ask what this has to do with us, and thankfully, I don’t have to because Bullet does before I get the chance. “This affects us how?”
I hear Ivy snort somewhere in the distance, and Piggy clears his throat as he shifts in the seat next to me. He’s still pissed the fuck off about what went down with Paul, and I don’t blame him. I am too, but I got everything I could have ever wanted… and more.
So much more.
The woman I love on the back of my bike and in my bed. Fuck me, it’s everything I could have ever wanted and more. And, honest to fuck, I would have never had it if it hadn’t been for Lorenzo and Paul.
So, really, I should be thanking him for everything that happened.
“I want you to have it all,” Lorenzo announces. “Nobody else is going to run it the way you will. I’ve seen the way you operate. I like it, and I trust it.”
Jesus fucking Christ. There has to be a catch. A whole fucking catch. My lips twitch into a smirk because I cannot believe that this shit is real. And judging by the way Lorenzo is smiling that crazy fucking grin of his, he is loving this part of the conversation. He’s no longer looking broken and sad.
He’s excited.
“How much?” Bullet asks.
Lorenzo lets out a whistle, then leans back a little more. “For my favorite bikers? Free. I want you to make it something bigger, better, and I want you to allow your families to thrive. I like what you have here. It’s all I was trying to do myself… family.”
He stands, slapping his hand on the table, then shakes his head once, his gaze connecting with Ivy. He then reaches into his pocket. I watch as he takes out a folded-up file folder, places it on the table, and slides it forward.
“This is everything that is owned by the Front Mob Family. Write it up, and I’ll sign it.”
Then he’s gone. We stare at the envelope, though I’m not quite sure what we’re expecting it to do. It’s not a living, breathing thing. Bullet is the first one to move. I watch as he snatches up the folder, then he begins to read each item line by line. And holy fucking shit. He didn’t just leave us the contacts. He is leaving us the guns, the drugs, the trucks—all of it.
“We’re going to need to up our prospect numbers,” Goose states. “We probably can’t do this all on our own, but holy fucking shit. We’re gonna make some serious fucking money. He handed us working businesses, ready to go, businesses that are already making bank.”
“On a silver goddamn platter,” I point out.
We all sit back in our seats, soaking in the moment. The moment where our worlds are flipped the fuck upside down…again. Except this time, I don’t think any of us are mad about it. In fact, I’m personally pleased as fucking punch.
LAINEY
FIVE YEARS LATER
Placing my hand on my belly, I look at the case. It’s empty. Another amazing day doing what I absolutely love—feeding people. Not just feeding them but making them smile and doing it in a way where I know they can’t wait to come back.
My lips curve up into a grin. I feel the fluttering in my belly and rub it gently. I was grateful five years ago when the girls tore up the sales contract and let me have my bakery back. They didn’t have to, but they did, because that’s what family does.
And they’re my family.
I walk over to the door and reach for the lock, getting ready to flip it into place. I pause when I see him standing in front of the door. I smile, and instead of locking it, I gently tug it open.
“Hey,” I call out.