POV: Sophie
The clubhouse buzzed with its usual low hum of conversation and the faint clink of bottles and glasses, but there was an undercurrent of something else—a tension that seemed to hang in the air, thick and suffocating. Even the men, usually loud and gruff, were quieter today. It was as if everyone was bracing for something.
I could feel it too. La Morte Nera hadn’t retaliated yet, but we all knew it was only a matter of time. Burn had been in and out of meetings with Razor and Skull, strategizing and preparing for whatever was coming next. Every time he left, there was a tightness in his jaw, and I could see the weight of it all pressing down on him.
And then there was Josh.
I hadn’t had much time to talk to him since the last big conversation, but I knew he was preparing him
