Chapter 79
Rachel
Dante’s words weighed heavily on my mind as I drove to my destination.
He wanted to talk. He was willing to rip that contract up.
We were entering uncharted territory in our relationship, and I was willing to lay all my cards on the table and be honest with him. Even if I ended up looking the fucking fool, at least I could say I tried, and I would no longer spend so much of my time wondering what if.
But first, I had to speak to Vicky. I had to know what she planned for her baby and the level of involvement she wanted from Dante.
I parked a few streets away, as I didn’t want her to know I was coming. And I knew how quickly things could get out of hand when I was pissed off. I’d rather no one see me that could potentially cause the police to ask questions later.
I was strangely calm as I walked towards her house. This was going to end one of two ways, and I wasn’t mad about either outcome.
Vicky had no idea who she was fucking with, but I like to think she had a taster during our showdown in the club. Tonight would teach her once and for all. Pregnant or not, this was not going to end on her terms.
Vicky lived in a modest house on the edge of town—no doubt funded by daddy dearest. And because she was the chief of police’s daughter, I was banking on her being stupid, believing that the law and her father would always protect her.
Why lock the doors when you had the police in your pocket?
As luck would have it, she was just as dumb as predicted.
She’s a beautiful woman, but my God, she’s fucking thick.
I gently pushed the door open, hearing her voice immediately. I paused, listening in on her conversation.
“No, he doesn’t suspect a thing,” she said, all smug confidence. She was practically dancing across the carpet as she spoke, twirling her hair like some high school mean girl. “I told him I missed him, that I was pregnant, and he actually bought it—”
Not fucking pregnant.
I was almost tempted to strike then, but I let her continue with her phone call, hanging herself with her own words.
“No, he’s not going to leave her. I’m not sure I want him anymore, anyway… Yeah, I’ve thought of that, and I’ll just tell him I lost the baby. That will earn me sympathy for a while.”
She paused, a frown taking over her face as she listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone.
“It’s about fucking with him, that’s why!
” she snapped. “You didn’t see the way he cast me aside when she returned.
Let him think his baby died, what the fuck do I care?
I’ll buy a fake bump and let him think his child was fucking stillborn if I thought it would hurt him more. No one treats me like that.”
She stayed quiet a few more moments before she sighed. “Look. You just don’t get it, so there’s no point explaining. Call me back when you’re feeling more reasonable.”
I let the silence stretch after she ended the call. Let her feel the shift in the air. That prickle of instinct, of fear, that told her something was off.
She turned just as I stepped into the living room.
“Rachel,” she blinked, confused at first, then growing wary. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Funny,” I said, shutting the door behind me, locking it with a soft click . “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
She straightened her spine, looking down her nose at me. “You can’t just break in here—”
“Oh, sweetie,” I smiled, slow and cold. “I didn’t break in. You didn’t lock the door.”
She hesitated, arms folding across her chest like she was suddenly very aware of how alone we were. “If Dante sent you—”
“Dante didn’t send me.” I walked slowly, deliberately, toward her. “It’s just me. I’m riding solo.”
“I don’t want trouble,” she said, stepping back. “I'm not even pregnant, okay? It was just a game. I was angry. Hurt. I thought he’d come back to me, but he didn’t. I was going to end it—”
“You were going to tell him you lost the baby. Let him think it died,” I snapped. “That’s not hurt, Vicky. That’s cruelty.”
She flinched. “You’ve done worse.”
“Ahh, so you have heard about me. I was beginning to wonder when you’d do your research.”
“My dad’s folder told me all I needed to know. Quite the violent little girl, aren’t we?”
I smiled wider. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. And I don’t lie to myself about who I am.”
That was the difference. She played victim in her own twisted story. I stopped pretending I was the good guy a long time ago.
“You think because you’re pretty, and your daddy’s the big bad chief, you’re untouchable? Everything has consequences, Vicky. And you’re about to face yours.”
Vicky’s eyes darted to her phone on the coffee table. I followed her gaze and chuckled darkly.
“Don’t,” I warned. “You won’t make it.”
She lifted her chin. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, okay? I just… I wanted to matter again.”
“You wanted power,” I corrected. “Over him. Over me. And you tried to get it by playing the one card you hoped would wreck both of us. Unfortunately for you, you overestimated how much either of us would care.”
“I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
I tilted my head. “No. You were thinking exactly clearly enough to fake a pregnancy, manipulate a man, and talk about buying fake baby bumps . Did I get it all, or have I missed something? Don’t insult me by pretending this was all a lapse in judgement.”
I took another step, and she backed up further, pressing herself against the wall.
“This doesn’t have to end like this,” she said quietly.
“No,” I agreed. “But it does.”
Her hand shot out for the phone.
I was faster.
I grabbed her by the wrist and slammed it into the wall with a sickening crunch. She screamed, her knees buckling. The phone clattered to the ground as she cradled her hand, sobbing.
“Rachel, please don’t. I have money—”
“No. Your father has money. And I’m not interested in the money of a fucking pig.”
I shoved her backwards so hard she tripped over the edge of the rug and landed flat on her back, the air whooshing out of her lungs.
I was on her in a blink, straddling her waist.
She found her fight instinct and lashed out at me, her nails scratching down my face, clawing at my cheek. I laughed and pinned her arms, feeling the blood trickle down my skin. I tasted blood and swiped at it with my tongue.
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” I grinned at her, letting her see the blood coating my teeth.
I grabbed her by the hair and slammed the back of her head into the floor. Once. Twice.
She shrieked, blood leaking from her head, painting her blonde hair.
“You wanted to be in my world,” I hissed, pressing my knee hard into her ribs as she wheezed beneath me. “You thought you could wear my crown. But you’re not built for this life, Vicky. You’re just a spoiled little girl playing games you don’t understand.”
She bucked under me, and I let her think she could win for one second—then brought my elbow down hard across her face. Her nose cracked, blood instantly gushing from the wound, pouring onto her neck.
She gurgled, trying to scream again, and that’s when I wrapped both hands around her throat, covering them in her blood.
She fought. Harder than I expected. But it was messy, desperate. Untrained.
She might have been the daughter of one of the most powerful men in Leeds, but it was clear he hadn’t taught her a fucking thing.
I hope that thought haunted him at night.
Her face turned red, then purple. Her legs kicked at the floor, her heels scraping against the floor. She scratched my arms, spitting blood at me as she tried to shove me off.
She was no match for me. Dante had trained me. Dante had allowed me to unleash my inner warrior. She was never any competition. Not in this fight, and not in my relationship.
I owned this.
A wet, rattling gasp escaped her lips. Her eyes fluttered. Her strength faltered. And still I didn’t let go.
I leaned down until my face was inches from hers.
“You could’ve walked away,” I whispered. “But you wanted what I had. You wanted to be me. Well, Vicky, this is me.”
Her body jerked once more beneath me.
Then went still.
I didn’t move. I stayed right there, straddling the wreckage, breathing heavy, soaked in her blood.
She had wanted to cause chaos, and now she had it. One final, bloody dose of karma served chaos.
I stared down at the body. And for once, I didn’t feel guilt. I felt like myself.
Not the version I’d tried to be. Not the mother, not the girlfriend, not the puppet trying to keep everything together.
Just me. The biker bitch who survived hell and built a home in the ashes.
There would be consequences for this. More of my messes for the club to clean up. Another murder for them to cover up. But funnily enough, I couldn’t find it in me to care.
And I knew, deep down, Dante wouldn’t care either.
Just as I was about to climb off Vicky and call him, to let him know what I had done, I heard the creak behind me.
I turned—and there he was.
Dante.
Leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, unreadable as ever.
“How long have you been standing there?” I asked, my voice rough.
“Long enough.”
“How mad are you?”
“On a scale of one to ten, I’m a solid eight. You know, I could have sent Sunshine here with a gun and a barrel of petrol. You needn’t have gone to so much trouble.”
I held his gaze. “I like trouble.”
“So I see,” he smirked. He looked down at Vicky’s body, then back at me.
“Are you ready to admit it yet, Rachel?” he asked quietly. “Or do you still want to run?”
My voice cracked, just a little. “Admit what?”
“That you’re just as fucked up as I am,” he said, stepping forward, his eyes never leaving mine. “You just come in better-looking packaging.”
Something in my chest twisted. Not shame. Not love. Something deeper.
Recognition .
We were carved from the same dark stone.
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t turn away. Just stood beside me in the blood and the silence.
He stood before me, looking down at me for long, tortuous seconds. And then he reached out and gently brushed a smear from my cheek. “Vienna’s party is tonight. Let’s get a move on before we’re late.” He turned toward the door, then paused when I didn’t follow.
“Actually,” I said, voice steadier now. “Can we make a stop first?”
He raised a brow. “Where?”
“The tattoo studio.”
His smile was slow and wicked, full of pride and possession.
“I want the ink back,” I said. “If I’m gonna be the new Mama, I best wear all the decoration.”
And just like that, he offered his hand.
And I took it.