Page 130 of Coveted By Cupid

“Maybe you want to see the merchandise first before saying no,” I suggest, confident our inventory will win over Atlas.

“Excellent suggestion,” Piero says, motioning for me to present the goods. “You have the floor, Cupid.”

I lift the heavy canvas bag we had brought onto the table. “Here’s a sampler of most of the firearms Piero purchased.”

Atlas eyes the bag with interest, standing from his seat to open the duffle of goodies. He pauses for a moment before letting out a low whistle, pulling out a Barrett Model 82A1.

I know a happy customer when I see one. Still, I give him the pitch.

“Isn’t she a beauty? She’s the first and only semi-automatic .50 caliber rifle available on the market. It runs upwards of eight thousand. The chamber is chrome-plated, dimensioned for civilian and military ammunition. The rifle offers amazing long-range precision with its enhanced accuracy and high velocity⁠—”

“You had me at chrome-plated,” Atlas murmurs, interrupting my speech. He cradles the gun, kissing the barrel before he grins at Piero. “I need to test it.”

Piero chuckles, stepping off the patio onto a grass lawn and leading the way to a gun range. “Of course you do, mio fratello.”

Atlas sets up the rifle on the ground, lying prone to take the first shot at a target a thousand yards away.

“That may be a bit of a stretch,” I warn Piero, worried that if Atlas misses the target, the don may back out.

Piero waves away my concerns. “He won’t miss. He never misses. When Atlas was a SEAL, he was an extreme long-range sniper specialist. A thousand yards is nothing for him.”

“Damn,” Oaks says with admiration, rocking back on his heels. “Glad we’re on good terms with him.”

I snort, agreeing.

Atlas dials in his sights, unbothered by us chatting behind him. He’s still for a moment before the blast from the gunshot echoes around the outside of the estate. The center of the target is blown apart.

The former sniper whoops loudly, jumping to his feet. “FUCK, YEAH! How many of these did you get, bro?”

“A whole cargo truck full,” Piero says smugly. “We’re splitting it.”

I casually walk up to Atlas, holding out my hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Atlas smirks, shaking my hand. “Deal.”

EPILOGUE

VANESSA

It’s been three months since I graduated with my master’s degree in addiction counseling from CSU. Although I’ve passed the Colorado state boards and I’m legally allowed to practice, I still have thousands of clinical hours to complete before I’m fully licensed. I found an addiction center desperately in need of counselors in downtown Loveland, only a four-block walk from the Royal Bastard’s clubhouse. They hired me immediately after graduation.

The work is challenging, yet rewarding when I’m able to help someone get sober. It makes the long hours worthwhile. I like to imagine my grandpa and parents in heaven smiling down on me for making a real difference in people’s lives.

My services have been putting a real damper on Kenny the narcs dealer’s sales, but Cupid gave him a different job—keeping watch on the neighborhood and reporting back to the MC with any suspicious behavior. We’re breaking the toxic cycle together.

So many positive changes have been happening in our lives, some bigger than I ever could have dreamed…

The windows are open, letting the cool summer evening breeze sweep through the apartment. I lay on the couch with my head in Cupid’s lap. He plays with my hair, twirling it around his fingers absentmindedly as he reads a book in his other hand. His dark frame glasses are low on his nose, giving him a distinguished look far beyond his years. He’s also shirtless, giving me plenty of eye candy to drool over.

We listen to a song about the changing of seasons on the record player. The bittersweet words make me mourn the home I once shared with my grandpa and cherish the home I’m building now with Cupid.

It’s not just a home we’re building…

My hand cradles my lower abdomen where my skin is tightening yet not quite showing a visible bump. We only learned I was expecting a month ago after I realized I had missed my period two months in a row. At first, I wasn’t sure how to feel about being pregnant this early in our relationship. I’ve never opposed having children, but we’re only starting our honeymoon phase.

All my apprehension melted away when I showed Cupid the two pink lines on the pregnancy test. Elated, he scooped me into his arms, kissing me stupid, and telling me what a great mom I’ll be to our little hellion on the way. Now, I’m gushing over this baby, knowing his or her daddy loves them to pieces already.

I’m twelve weeks along. We broke the joyful news to the crew yesterday at dinner in the restaurant. The brothers went wild, excited for a biker legacy to be born into the club. As if that announcement wasn’t enough joy, Cupid dropped to one knee in front of the crew and placed a classic round garnet ring on my finger, stating the stone symbolizes the deepest and all-consuming form of love, much like what the god Cupid felt for Psyche.