Three Gangs and a Silver Sin

The weight of Sterling’s leadership settled heavily on Amber’s shoulders, a constant, crushing pressure. Paperwork, stacks of it, threatened to bury her in the study. She blew a rebellious strand of pale hair from her face, sighing. This wasn't the gang life movies glorified; it was endless documents, legal transfers, and the thorny problem of Owen's girls – a stark reminder of her new, uncomfortable realities.

“Amber, I need your help!” Lynch’s shout from upstairs cut through her focus. His pleas, laced with a familiar whine, were the only thing that could pull her from the abyss of her new responsibilities. With another sigh, she pushed herself from the desk, the faint scent of ink clinging to her.

Upstairs, the sight of Lynch, kneeling before a mirror in just his pants, holding two identical grey shirts, was almost laughable. “They are literally the same shirt,” she pointed out, a small, rare smile playing on her lips. He was the last thread to the girl she used to be, the one with paint on her clothes and gold in her hair. That girl, however, was long gone.