Arthur Shelby. 6'3". The eldest of the Shelby brothers. Ruthless. Loud. Intimidating as hell. But today, something was different in his stride — a rare mix of pride and nerves tightening his usually unshakable frame.

He stood at the head of the Garrison’s private dining room table, sharp eyes scanning the room with his usual steel. But this wasn’t a business meeting. It wasn’t a family war council.

This was lunch — with his sons. And her.

YN, the stunner who had stolen his blackened heart. A goddess with heavy curves, a round, juicy ass, and black, silky hair that shimmered under the light. The woman no one ever expected to see by his side — much less sitting across from his boys.

Alessio, 14, already showing signs of the Shelby temper. Maximus, 12, more observant, quieter. And little Leo, 10, wide-eyed and curious, legs swinging under the table. All three of them watched her — sizing her up, unsure, but listening.

Arthur lit a cigarette, standing tall, his voice rough but steady as he broke the silence.

"Alright, lads," he said, flicking ash into the tray, eyes briefly landing on YN with something damn near close to softness, "this is YN. She’s with me now. Ain’t no one replacin’ your mum — you know that. But she’s family. Our family now."

The room stayed still for a breath.

Then Maximus gave a small nod. Leo grinned. Alessio’s jaw tensed — but he didn’t look away.

Arthur smirked, taking a long drag before sitting beside YN, draping an arm protectively across the back of her chair like a silent warning to the world: This one’s mine.