3. Dante
three
Dante
Bringing them here is a risk. If either escapes, it'll put a target on not only Steelwood's back, but also on all the men who trust me to be in charge and make such decisions.
What if we were seen and followed? Leading anyone straight to our clubhouse is asking for disaster.
I'm not the kind of man who makes reckless decisions, let alone risky ones.
Once we're out of the van, I turn my attention to Tank and Crow. "Take the girls somewhere quiet. Keep an eye on both until I can speak to them."
They both nod, turning their attention to the two blonde-haired women. It takes strength to pull my eyes away from the curvier one. Margot—from what Madalyn whispered earlier.
Approaching the second van, I'm pulling the door open before any of the occupants inside can get out. Narrowing my eyes on Hex, she flinches.
"I never saw a second daughter. Or, maybe I did and thought she was Madalyn." Already having her response planned, she hugs her closed laptop to her chest. "I can't look up people I don't know exist in the first place, okay?"
"Why did you bring them both?" Cassia lifts her brow at me as she slides past me to get fresh air. "They were together?"
Going with the excuse that she is a witness is the easiest explanation to avoid any of them acting over the top. So when I nod, she goes with it.
Thankfully, Casper keeps his mouth shut as he follows behind my sister. The cheeky smirk still pisses me off, however. Makes the back of my neck burn in ways I'm unfamiliar with.
"Give me a day, and I'll do what digging I can." Hex scrambles out of the van, turning around to slowly back up toward the entrance of the warehouse where Trouble waits for her. "If she was being hidden, there must be a reason, right? I'll find out why."
"Don't bother." Rolling my neck, I try not to look bothered. "Stick with the plan. Keep an eye on Ashford. I want to know the moment they realize they're gone. Sorry for the overtime."
She rolls her shoulder, used to it after spending the last couple of weeks delving in deep to get me inside that party to begin with.
Once I'm all alone, I'm running a hand down my face, grimacing at what clings to my fingers. Without thinking, I'm turning the side mirror attached to the van, looking at my appearance.
I'd yet to look at myself since Cassia worked on my face, putting all my trust that she wouldn't make me look like a fool.
She's made me look like our father. That's a face I haven't thought of in a long time. Not exactly good memories paired with it.
Despite touching my face, my scar is nowhere to be seen. The indent is there, but it's hardly noticeable. I don't know if I should feel relieved or uncomfortable. The disfigurement is a part of me, and not seeing it is fucking with my mind.
That, and you don't want that woman seeing how you really look.
The thought freely drifts through my head, making me scowl and snap the mirror back into place. Turning toward the warehouse, I move.
Time isn't something we have much of. The moment the women are found to be missing, I expect Meadow Falls to be full of pigs checking every corner for the precious Princess of this terrible town.
Ashford won't hesitate to make a pit stop at all three clubs that run this place, possibly going as far as raiding each one.
Those two can't be here when that happens.
Making my way inside, I notice the building is stuffed with bodies. Prepared for a fight that hopefully won't need to go down, prospects mingle with women out of their league while a competitive fight breaks out against the couch, all over a racing match.
Music plays from above to keep the stress of the unknown at a steady level.
Everyone appears to be having a good time, and everything almost feels normal.
Some of them look my way and do a double-take, but they know better than to stare.
I keep moving, convincing myself not to stop at the kitchen to grab a drink. Frequenting the mini bar inside is my usual go-to when I'm dealing with stressful tasks. Right now, I could use something really fucking strong.
Tank is hovering in front of the door where we hold church, and I know Crow is on the other side. Thanking him, I make my way inside.
Madalyn is sitting in Butcher's chair, spinning around lazily.
She looks like she's done a complete one-eighty compared to all the photos I skimmed through of her.
Posted all over the town's social media page, I know her image means a lot to her.
My target looks like she's going through a midlife crisis at only the age of twenty-four.
Margot is looking through the papers on the table. Those will need to vanish along with Crow, who looks nervous. Lately, he's been acting on edge. When he notices my appearance, there is a hint of relief on his face.
Approaching the table, I gather blueprints, receipts, and any written proof of what went down tonight. Reaching over to take the few in her hands, I pass them off to Crow. "Burn everything. You, take a seat."
Margot frowns, but she does as she's told.
As she's collapsing down next to her sister, I'm pulling off my jacket.
Tossing it down on the table, I undo the top two buttons of this suffocating dress shirt so I can breathe properly.
Thank God I didn't let Cassia put a tie on me.
I don't even know if I'd be able to undo the knot.
Crow leaves, and I rest my hip against the table, my arms crossing against my chest as I take in the twins. Resting this close, I have the perfect view of Margot's brave attempt to not squirm. She can barely keep her fingers from tangling together on her lap.
"So, Steelwood, huh?" Madalyn stops spinning and lets out a sigh. "Dad's going to totally flip. Are you the boss? Dante, right? I've heard all about you. He complains about you bikers all of the time, doesn't he?"
She nudges her sister, but gets no response.
While Madalyn babbles on questions I leave unanswered, my eyes coast over Margot.
When our eyes meet, her chest hitches, an almost unnoticeable intake of air she tries to immediately smooth out.
Her stare wavers for only half a second before she steadies herself. Instead, her entire body goes too still, as if she's unsure how to react in a moment like this.
"Who are you?" Talking over Madalyn, a frown naturally forms on my lips. "Why didn't I know about your existence?"
There's this desperate need to know the answer, and every second that ticks by in silence claws sharply at me.
Her eyes flick down, her fingers halting where she’d been picking at her nails.
My eyes snag when her teeth catch her bottom lip as she considers my question.
When she looks back up, there’s a slight hesitance in her gaze, and the silence that follows after makes me want to get closer and coax out the information from her lips.
Years ago, I was great at torturing and getting the answers I needed. But looking at her, the methods flashing through my mind don't involve a classic chair or tools. Instead, my imagination takes a sharp, brutal turn south.
In my head, I'm automatically picturing nothing between us, a wall at her back, and her with nowhere to escape. Nowhere to go but pressing her body against mine while pretending she wants me to stop.
I'd only need my fingers, and the realization that I actually want to do it makes my blood scalding hot.
A sudden, heavy throb tightens in my slacks, my cock hardening so fast it hits me like a physical blow.
Jesus Christ, help me.
The sheer shock of it sends a wave of heat straight up my spine, burning me from the inside out. I’m forced to shift my arms, covering the proof of my inability to keep myself in check.
I don’t do this. I don’t let my feelings or thoughts get in the way of club business.
The question I should be asking is why this woman can make all of my restraint and self-control useless.
"Guess you didn't do as good of a job as you thought, huh?" she murmurs, completely unaware of the disastrous effect she is having on my mentality. Thankfully, her hit helps snap me back to reality.
I’ve spent the last few years working on my anger, learning to step back and think rather than do something stupid. But right now, looking at her lips purse together, I can't think about pulling away to avoid falling for bad habits.
Instead, I lean toward her. Up close like this, breathing in, I realize she smells like something sweet and fruity. Apples, I think. Maybe it's apple crisp.
Either way, once my mouth starts watering, it's hard to make it stop.
"Margot Ashford." Saying her name out loud, be it in an agitated growl, relieves some of this pressure collecting against my chest.
Her eyes widen, growing round and visibly startled. They're the same brown as her sister's, but they hold far more warmth than I saw in all those cold photographs of her twin. She swallows hard before giving one quick nod to confirm her existence.
"Why is he hiding you?" My next question leaves my lips without prompt.
I watch the exact moment the vulnerability vanishes from her face, replaced by a sudden, rigid coldness. She straightens in her seat, but it looks forced—like she’s bracing herself against a blow. Her chin lifts, a desperate sort of defiance masking the slight tremor in her hands.
"So what's going to happen to us?" she asks, changing the path of the conversation. Trying like hell to sound brave, it’s the slight wobble of her lip that has me putting the demand to know answers of my questions on the back burner.
"You're going to put out a ransom for my sister, if I have to take a guess.
You'll ask for money and get all the attention you could possibly want. That’s what everyone wants. "
She shifts slightly, rolling her chair to put herself just a fraction of an inch more in front of her sister. Her fingers curl hard against her thighs.
"If you touch her, you're going to regret it."
Her threat hits me strangely. There's a bite to it, but this woman looks entirely soft. Her knuckles are white from gripping her own lap, and she looks like she's never known a single day of violence in her life.
She’s terrified out of her mind, yet she’s standing up to an MC president to shield her sister.
It's why a dry, unamused laugh leaves me. The noise is so foreign in my own chest it sounds off. I don’t find it funny, but it’s a familiar sight for a man in my shoes.
I’m a man who is all about his family, after all.
"You've got it all wrong." Looking between the two of them, my mouth curves in a way that makes Madalyn flinch, though Margot just locks her jaw and refuses to look away. "What I want isn't money. And I don't plan on touching either of you, as long as you play your part."
Margot's rigid posture sags just a fraction, a tiny puff of relieved air escaping her lips before she catches herself. "Then what is it you want, Dante?"
Hearing my name on her tongue, soft, hesitant, yet demanding answers, brings on another heated wave, making the answer to her question feel clouded.
Focus.
"I'm going to make your father regret ever fucking with me by taking what he loves and ruining his life."
I don't expect Madalyn to be the next one to laugh, and my scowl deepens when she does.
"Good luck with that," Madalyn scoffs, letting out a bitter, cynical sound. "That jerk made it pretty clear to us a long time ago that love doesn't exist. The absolute worst you'll do by keeping us is stress him out because of the election coming up."
If she's right, then that is fine by me. It's all a part of the plan.
I'm going to make sure he won't ever want to show his face ever again in this town. Hell, even better—I won't have to get my hands dirty. He's done that enough.
Before I can agree with her, there's a shift to the side, the door opens, and Casper pops his head in.
"You'll never believe what I just saw on the news. They move quickly." He grins and nods over to the women. "Madalyn, you're famous. They've got you plastered on a few stations already."
She perks up at the update. "Wait, what picture did they use? Can I go see?"
My brows come together when I notice Margot tear her gaze to the side, her stare turning blank in a way of shutting down.
"Just Madalyn?" Looking back at Casper, he nods, confirming my suspicion. "This is processing faster than I expected. We need to move." Lifting from the table, I jerk my chin at the siblings. "Let's go."
Expecting the need to put in effort to get them to move, Margot's the first to stand. Her sister follows, and we leave the room.
Madalyn has to make a pit stop to watch the news on television, and I watch as she gets upset with the chosen picture. My eyes narrow at the banner running across the bottom of the screen with only her name.
Could they not have noticed Margot is missing as well?
"Is she always like that?"
Margot watches the very same thing I am, her frown softening to the point that I can almost imagine what her mouth would look like in the shape of a smile.
"I don't think she's realized the situation we're in.
This may surprise you, but we've been taken once before.
I doubt she remembers it. If she did, she wouldn't have come so willingly. "
Lingering on her words, I save my questions for a time when I'm not worried about being surrounded.
"You really mean it when you say you're not going to hurt us?"
Looking at her, I nod, despite knowing my words hold no weight to them. "Just because you came from that bastard doesn't mean you're my enemy. Stay on the right side, and you'll be completely fine."
She doesn't reply, opting to nod instead. Calling out to her sister, she makes my job easier by asking her to follow.
Finally, with nothing left to stand in my way, I can move on.