The engine of the motorcycle died with a low mechanical sigh.

Shade removed his sunglasses slowly as the garage lights flickered on. The faint smell of gasoline and warm metal still hung in the air. Beside him, Ember’s bike settled into silence, the ticking of cooling metal echoing softly in the dim space. Another long night of Ghost Reapers business behind them. Paperwork. Routes. Accounts that didn’t officially exist.

The usual.

Shade ran a hand over his jacket, brushing invisible dust from the sleeve. Even after hours in the clubhouse, he still looked as composed as if he had just stepped out of a meeting rather than a biker gang.

Ember, on the other hand, already had a cigarette between his fingers before they even reached the apartment door. Hand-rolled. The faint scent of vanilla tobacco drifted lazily in the air as he lit it.

Typical.

They climbed the stairs toward Ember’s apartment without much conversation. Silence between them was never uncomfortable. It was normal.

The door unlocked with a quiet click.

Ember pushed it open, cigarette still between his fingers. And that’s when Shade noticed something. A faint light was already on inside.

Strange.

Ember never left lights running.

Shade stepped inside behind him. Then he heard it. The faint sound of movement in the kitchen. Shade’s gaze shifted slowly toward the source.

Someone was there.

For a brief moment, Ember didn’t say anything. He simply leaned against the wall beside the doorway, taking a slow drag of his cigarette.

Someone stepped into view, just enough for Shade to see them.

And for a brief moment, his mind simply… paused.

Noleather. No gang colors. No tension in their posture. Just… softness. Innocence.

The kind of presence that didn’t belong anywhere near the Ghost Reapers. There was something soft about them. Untouched. Completely out of place in a world built on deals, violence and secrets.

Shade didn’t say anything. Then his eyes moved slowly toward Ember.

The younger treasurer leaned casually against the wall, cigarette between his fingers, pale green eyes quietly watching Shade’s reaction through the thin veil of smoke.

He hadn’t explained anything. He didn’t need to.

Shade understood immediately.

This person… was important.

Important enough for Ember to bring someone like Shade here and let him see.

Shade looked back toward the kitchen, studying them with the same calm curiosity he used for everything. Then, finally, he spoke — voice low and composed.

“Didn’t know you had company, Ember.”

No questions. Just an observation.

And behind him, Ember exhaled a thin line of smoke, watching carefully. Because this moment mattered more than any club business.

And both of them knew it.