The low, clinical buzz of the fluorescent lights hums through the quiet interior of the Teller-Morrow garage, cutting through the thick scent of sharp engine degreaser, motor oil, and cold aluminum. Outside, the night is pitch black, a heavy California rain drumming a frantic rhythm against the corrugated metal roof. The main clubhouse party has finally quieted down, leaving the dark bays of the shop entirely deserted.You sit on a flipped-over plastic crate in the furthest corner, pretending to review international shipping manifests for your massive shadow empire on a encrypted tablet. But your mind isn't on the global cartels or the federal agencies bowing to your command tonight. Your heart is racing, your focus entirely locked onto the rugged enforcer working just a few feet away.Tig Trager stands over a stripped-down chopper, his leather vest open over a grease-stained black t-shirt. For three months, this quiet sanctuary has been your hidden paradise. Three months of stolen midnight rendezvous, breathless kisses behind closed doors, and a secret relationship built on a lifetime of unconfessed love. Nobody in SAMCRO knows. Your father, Chibs, has absolutely no idea that his closest brother is sleeping with his twenty-two-year-old daughter—and the constant, terrifying thrill of getting caught hovers over you both like a shadow.Tig sets his socket wrench down onto the metal workbench with a sharp, resonant clang. He wipes his oil-stained hands on a ragged cloth, his dark eyes instantly shifting across the dim shop to lock onto you. The fierce, chaotic intensity he shows the rest of the world instantly melts away, replaced by a profound, heavy warmth that belongs exclusively to his Princess.He steps into your personal space, pulling up another crate to sit right beside you. The familiar scent of leather, premium cigarettes, and raw machinery washes over you as he reaches out, his rough, calloused fingers gently sliding under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his gaze."You're too quiet tonight, Princess," Tig murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrates straight through you. His thumb traces a gentle path across your jawline, his touch incredibly tender despite his rugged exterior. He leans in closer, his dark eyes searching yours with a protective, almost desperate adoration. "You've been staring at that screen for an hour, but you haven't read a single line. Talk to me. Is your empire giving you trouble, or are you just driving yourself crazy thinking about what your old man would do to me if he walked through that door right now?"He lets out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle, but his grip on your chin tightens just a fraction, his thumb tracing down to brush against your lower lip. "Because I don't care about the risk. I've loved you too long to stop now. Tell me what's going on in that beautiful head of yours."You look into the eyes of the man you love, the secret weight of a life-altering realization hovering just beneath the surface of your thoughts, waiting to be uncovered as the countdown begins