Chapter 240

Noah

The moment Aiden said he wanted to talk, I knew.

Not in a bad way. Not with dread. Just that quiet, buzzing awareness in my chest that something important was finally about to be said.

Truth was—we hadn’t talked about the future. Not really. Not in concrete terms. After the hearing, after the verdict, after everything that had shattered and then slowly, carefully started knitting itself back together, we’d lived in the now. Day by day. Breath by breath.

And Aiden had respected that. God, he’d respected it so much it almost hurt.

So when he moved us from the couch to the dining table, when he came back with two glasses of wine and that look on his face—focused, calm, steady—I felt my pulse pick up.

I took the glass he handed me and raised it slightly. “Wine,” I said. “Okay. Now all we need are cigars and a very serious business tone.”

He snorted. “Please don’t tell me you’re about to call this meeting to order.”

“Well, you moved locations,” I teased. “That’s a clear escalation.”

Then he disappeared again—and came back dragging a thick binder.

Not a folder. Not a few papers.

A binder.

He set it on the table with a heavy thud.

I stared at it. Then at him. “Holy shit,” I said. “Are we planning retirement already?”

Aiden laughed, shaking his head as he sat across from me. “Maybe not retirement. But… yeah. Kind of.”

That made me sit up straighter.

He reached across the table, resting his hand over mine. “Before I say anything—I need you to know this isn’t pressure. This isn’t an obligation. And it’s definitely not something you have to do for anyone else.”

I swallowed.

“This is for you, baby boy,” he continued. “Something I’ve been working on for a while. For your future. For the things you’ve always wanted—even before me.”

My chest tightened.

“Okay,” I said quietly. “You officially have my attention.”

He opened the binder.

“Remember when we used to talk about football?” He asked with a grin.

“Those were the days! Right?” I laughed.

“Well, time to bring those back. For instance, how about New Orleans?” he said.

I blinked. “The Saints? Ha! That’d be aiming a bit too high… I know we spoke of Oregon—”

He nodded. “I reconsidered a lot of my early options. The biggest offers weren’t automatically the best ones. I wanted location. Stability. A team willing to put everything in writing—including protections.”

“They are way out of my league, Aiden…” I sighed.

He slid a page toward me. “No, they are not, baby boy.”

My eyes skimmed the numbers.

Then stopped.

Then went back.

“…Aiden,” I breathed. “Is that—?”

“Signing bonus,” he confirmed. “Eight million.”

I stared at him, stunned.

“And incentives,” he added, tapping another line. “Performance-based. Health protections. Guaranteed money. And a morality clause that explicitly does not allow them to void your contract over personal relationships.”

My throat closed.

“This can’t be… Aiden, I—” The words caught in my throat.

Aiden took my hand in his. “It is, Noah. You still don’t know how good you really are…”

”I can’t believe it—” I said softly, tears blurring my eyes. “My Mom, my sister… Aiden, they’ll never have to worry again. None of us will!”

He smiled at me then—proud, fierce, emotional. “That was the point.”

I stood so fast my chair scraped the floor and leaned across the table, kissing him hard.

“How did you even do this?” I laughed breathlessly. “How did you negotiate like this?”

“Because you’re worth it,” he said simply. “And because I don’t lose when it comes to you.”

I hugged him, tight, my forehead pressed to his. “I can’t believe this is real.”

“It is,” he murmured. “And when you’re ready, we’ll sign.”

My brain was already racing.

“We need a place,” I said, pulling back just enough to look at him. “A house. Something with space. Extra rooms. Somewhere my mom can visit. Somewhere Micah will inevitably crash—”

Aiden chuckled and flipped a few pages. “Funny you mention that.”

He turned the binder around.

Listings.

Houses.

Big ones. Smaller ones. Places with courtyards. Balconies. A few that made my eyebrows climb dangerously high.

“Oh my god,” I laughed. “You’ve been planning this the whole time.”

“I told you,” he said gently. “I’ve been working on the future.”

I leaned back in my chair, overwhelmed in the best possible way. Looking at every house, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning. “I can actually afford any of these houses!” I almost snorted.

“We can… I have the money from my house sale as well.” He leaned forward and kissed me.

My mind was racing at a thousand miles an hour… So many ideas, plans, questions… “How about you, babe? Are you gonna coach there?”

“Well,” he said, voice shifting just slightly, “there’s one more thing we need to talk about.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That sounded ominous.”

He smiled.

“Not ominous,” he said. “Just… next.”

And something in my chest told me this was only the beginning.

Aiden closed the binder gently, leaning back in his chair, watching me carefully, like he needed to know where my head was before he said the next part.

“I also took something else into account when I chose New Orleans,” he said.

I tilted my head. “You mean besides the obscene amount of money?”

He smiled faintly. “Besides that.”

I waited.

“Hale,” he said simply.

That alone made my stomach flip.

“He and I talked weeks ago,” Aiden continued. “Not casually. Not hypothetically. Real conversations. About expanding. About doing something new—away from Texas, away from the past, away from everything that’s been watching us.”

I sat forward now.

“He’s been planning another Dominion,” Aiden said. “New Orleans makes sense. Different crowd. Different energy. And he wants me there—not as staff. Not as an employee.”

My pulse picked up. “Then as…?”

“Co-director,” he said. “And eventually, co-owner.”

I stared at him.

“You’re serious.”

He nodded. “Full operational control. Hiring. Training. Client vetting. Financial oversight. Community building. Everything.”

I swallowed. “That’s… huge.”

“It’s mine,” he said quietly. “Something that belongs to me. Something I love. Something I’m good at.”

Something no one could take from him.

“And Micah?” I asked.

Aiden’s mouth curved. “Hale wants to train him in a new environment. Plus, like he mentioned, there are many opportunities for Micah to help. Sometimes from here, sometimes remotely. He’s good at people—reading them, matching dynamics, organizing chaos. Hale sees that.”

I laughed softly. “Of course he does.”

“He’d split time,” Aiden went on. “Help us build. Learn. Grow into it. And—” He paused, watching me again. “Lexie’s mentioned she might want to try again. Away from Prive. Away from expectations.”

My chest warmed.

“All of us,” I murmured. “Together.”

“That was the idea,” Aiden said.

I leaned back, stunned in the best way.

“And you chose New Orleans,” I said slowly, “because it wasn’t just about football. It was about… us.”

“Yes.”

I didn’t even hesitate. I stood, walked around the table, and climbed straight into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“You did all of this,” I said against his cheek. “For me.”

“For you,” he agreed. “And for us.”

I pulled back just enough to look at him. “You know what the craziest part is?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t feel scared,” I said. “For the first time in my life, I don’t feel like I’m choosing between who I am and what I want.”

His hands tightened at my waist.

“And,” I added, quieter now, “if you’re willing… I want to continue what we started.”

Aiden stilled.

“I want to train again,” I said. “At my pace. With you. Not because I need it—but because I want it.”

His eyes darkened—not with hunger, but with recognition.

“Is that what you really want,” he said.

“Yes.”

“And you know our relationship would not make me—,”

“Less dominant?” I winked.

“Lenient," he said carefully. “This wouldn’t be about not being vanilla or role playing…. Like before, it would still be about trust. Structure. Growth.”

“I know,” I replied. “That’s exactly why I want it.”

He leaned his forehead against mine, breathing me in.

“Then we’ll do it right,” he said. “Slow. Safe. Honest.”

I smiled. “Like everything else.”

He kissed me then—soft, grounding, full of promise. “Well, then, speaking of slow…”

Uh-oh.

“How do you feel about starting again this Saturday?” he asked. “At the club.”

My breath caught.

“We won’t be alone,” he added smoothly. “Hale. Micah. And maybe Lexie, if she’s ready.”

I stared at him, half-laughing, half-terrified. “If this is your version of slow,” I said, “I’m almost afraid to ask what you consider fast.”

His smile was wicked and warm all at once.

“The kind of future,” he said, “you don’t walk into unless you trust everyone standing beside you.”

My smile disappeared as I looked at him with blind determination. “I'm ready… I trust you.”