“So, let these be our first,” he adds, holding up an ornate black necklace with a pendant in the center.

“What is it?” I hear Winter ask as Damon pulls hers out of the box.

“It’s a necklace,” he says.

“It’s a collar,” Banks spits out.

Michael and I share a smile at her jab.

But it’s beautiful. Regal. Thin, black chains weave together, dotted by small black jewels, and in the center sits an oval broach. Michael drapes the necklace around me as Kai and Damon put theirs on Banks and Winter.

“It has a white pendant,” Damon explains to Winter. “With a skull. The skull has antlers above a bed of grass where a snake lies.”

“The skull represents our true faces.” Michael fastens the clasp at the back of my neck, the necklace only falling as far as my collar bone. “What comes out of us when we put on our masks.”

“The call of the void,” Damon whispers to Winter.

Michael continues, “The antlers represent a deer which means watchfulness, being in touch with your inner child, innocence, and vigilance. The snake means rebirth and transformation.”

I touch the broach with my fingers. “And fertility,” I add as an afterthought.

Michael holds my gaze for a moment and then turns away, heading back around the table.

He takes another box and sets it down next to Alex, opening it up.

But she stops him. “I want Will to put it on me.”

He nods and closes the box again.

Standing at his place at the table, he looks over at Misha and Ryen, who just stare at the item still tucked inside its box.

“It belongs to the family,” he tells her. “If you forfeit it, you forfeit it to us or no one. Do you understand?”

She looks between him and Misha at her side, nodding nervously. “I appreciate the gesture,” she says, glancing back at Misha. “We have some things to think about.”

Misha doesn’t say anything, and I absolutely understand their reluctance. I don’t know Ryen well, but this isn’t him. Misha likes freedom, not answering to anyone but her, and I’ve never known him to be in a club other than his band. Too many people interfering with his privacy would paralyze him. It’s not who he is.

And quite frankly, they don’t have a history with us. The rest of us are here, because we wouldn’t be anywhere else. Misha is here for Will and only Will.

Michael takes his seat and swipes his fingers across his phone, setting it in the middle of the table to record the minutes. “Alright, considering our agenda, let’s first tackle the—”

“I want to kill your father,” I say, cutting him off.

Damon chokes on his vodka rocks. Every eye at the table turns to me, and Michael silently stares as my words hang in the air.

I know it was abrupt, but I need to set the pace tonight. Or I’ll lose control.

“I won’t,” I add. “I just want to. I wanted you to know that.”

Michael sits there, playing with the Montblanc in front of him as everyone watches on silently, but he doesn’t blink, and neither do I.

“And I want to marry you,” he tells me. “Is this why you’re dragging your feet? My father?”

I falter. One has nothing to do with the other. “That’s a private matter.”

“You don’t talk even when we are in private. The only time things are good lately is when we’re fucking.”

Damon shoves his chair back, making Banks and Ryen jump, and rises, scowling at Michael.

But Michael is already on it, not bothering to get out of his seat as he glares up at Damon. “I was there when she was five and eight and thirteen, so you remember where you and she started the next time you want to imply you have any more responsibility or love for her than I do,” he bites out. “My woman. Sit down.”

I’m simultaneously hit with flutters over Michael’s words and appreciation for Damon’s protectiveness. As much it hurt, though, Michael was right. Things are okay but only great when we’re in bed lately.

Damon hesitates, but finally sits, still seething, and I look back at Michael.

He turns his gaze back on me. “This was your fantastic idea,” he says. “So out with it. You resent me for not avenging you. My father killed yours.” And then he gazes around the table, leaning back in his chair. “Is that how you all see it? I haven’t defended her?”

But before they can chime in, I tell him, “I don’t resent you. I love you.” I am a little hurt by his lack of urgency, but I understand the position he’s in. “And I’ll die your wife or I’ll die no one’s.”

There. Happy now?

He stares at me, hopefully understanding there’s no doubt in my love or devotion.

He clears his throat. “The only living witness I could manage to locate was murdered last year.” He tosses a look at Damon, referring to Gabriel’s demise. “And even if I could find more, I can’t put my mother through the humiliation.” He drops his eyes, pausing. “I know what your father’s death did to your mother, Rika. What you’re asking is only fair. I know that.” His eyes raise to mine again, pained. “But I killed her son, Rika. I can’t…kill her…”

He falls silent, but he doesn’t need to finish the sentence.

I know. Even if his father “quietly disappeared,” Michael wouldn’t lie to her. She’d find out, and she’d be hurt by him. She might even start to fear him.

“I’ll do it,” Damon chimes in.

Michael nods absently. “I know you will, but I’m not going to let you. You have things to live for now. Don’t put yourself at unnecessary risk.” He sighs, sitting back again. “We can’t slaughter every problem anyway.”

No, we can’t. We’re not criminals, and I have to constantly remind myself of that. We don’t break laws for personal gain. We do it for fun.

We don’t have to kill him, but things can’t stay the same, either. “I want him gone. Out of Thunder Bay,” I tell Michael. “And out of Meridian City.”

“We can’t buy him out,” he replies.

“We won’t have to,” Banks interjects.

Everyone stops, turning to her. The skin of her bare shoulders glowing in the candlelight, and I sit up in my chair, meeting her eyes.

“He’ll give everything to us,” she says.

I hold back my smile. My favorite thing about Banks is that she proudly refrains from bringing anything to the table unless it’s a solution. I’m listening.

She turns to Michael. “Killing Schraeder Fane isn’t all your father is guilty of, to be sure. We’ll find something and use it to persuade him.”

“Persuade him to do what?”

“Seek life elsewhere,” she replies sarcastically.

Michael shakes his head. “He still won’t leave quietly.”

“Then we’ll take care of it,” Kai says, losing patience. “We’re only doing what’s necessary, Michael. We have kids to think about. Rika’s right. He can’t stay.”

It takes a moment, but Michael finally looks up at me, and I know what’s going through his head. Yes, his father is dangerous. Yes, he’s hurt people immeasurably.