Seven
The truth is a bucket of ice being poured into my veins And it scares me to think I won’t ever feel warmth again.
W ithout a word, Talon stands and walks out.
I can’t bring myself to watch him go, but when the door slams shut behind him, the sound punches through the room like a gunshot.
The walls tremble, the floor vibrates beneath my boots, and still, no one speaks.
The silence is deafening. My breath escapes me in one long, slow exhale.
It takes every ounce of control I have not to collapse in on myself.
My emotions, caged and coiled tight since I walked into this room, finally loosen—and I hate it.
I knew facing Talon would be hard. I knew he’d react like a bomb going off.
But none of my prep—none of my fucking discipline—readied me for this.
For him .
Or worse… for my children, knowing more than I ever intended them to.
A few tense minutes pass before my body finally sinks back into the chair like it’s holding me up.
Fuck this day. But I shake the regret off quick.
I don’t have time for guilt. Talon needs to understand that none of this is simple.
Yeah, I raised our children alone. Yeah, he just found out.
But whose fault is that? His . His pride. His choices. His absence.
If he’s pissed? Good. Let him be.
I’m not here to coddle a grown man’s ego. I’m here to handle shit.
Malikai’s hand finds mine. Strong. Steady. Grounding. He gives me a slight squeeze every so often, like he knows I’m walking a tightrope internally, trying not to let any of this spill out. His loyalty keeps me from unraveling. Until—
BANG.
The sound behind me is violent and close. I flinch hard.
“FUCK.”
I close my eyes on instinct, because that one word, ripped raw from Sebastian’s throat, slices through the air—and right into me.
The pain in his voice is a blade. The kind that digs deep and stays.
I don’t need to look to know his breathing is ragged, shoulders tense, rage pouring off him in waves.
I don’t move.
I want to.
God, I want to.
But I can’t—not yet.
My son is unraveling, and I can’t fix it.
This? This is what I never wanted for my children.
I never wanted them to feel the sting of abandonment.
That hole you carry when someone who was supposed to protect you never showed up.
So when they turned fifteen, I told them what they needed to know.
Not the whole truth—but enough. I told them I tried.
That their father ignored me. That I reached out more than once, I didn’t lie, but I softened the blows.
I let them know it was always their choice if they ever wanted to find him.
No matter what I felt, they’re still his.
Just as much as they’re mine. What I didn't soften was life, especially not in this world. As soon as they were old enough, I trained them. Against my father’s wishes.
Against Luca’s loud protests. I trained them like soldiers.
Because they’re not just my kids—they’re potential weapons, targets, bargaining chips.
Born to blood and power, born into enemies. Just like me.
And I’ll be damned if they ever get used the way I was.
Years ago, when someone tried to grab one of my babies off the street, I was proven right.
That child slipped free, just like I trained them.
That was the last time anyone questioned me about how I raised mine.
From that moment, the training doubled. Now?
My children are weapons. Sharpened. Calculated. Lethal if they need to be.
They’re also students of the business. Because this legacy—mine, Talon’s—it’s theirs whether they like it or not.
And with them turning eighteen soon, they’ll step deeper into it.
They’re smart. Strategic. Focused. They’ve been mentored by the best…
even if it kills me every damn time they leave the house on assignment.
Still, they’re teenagers. Mouthy, reckless, and emotional. I tried giving them normalcy—public schools, dances, regular teen drama. It didn’t last long. They were too advanced, too molded by the life we live. But I’m glad they had some of it, even if it was brief.
Snapping back into the present, I rise and turn toward Sebastian.
Our eyes lock.
His pain guts me.
His hand is bleeding—knuckles cracked open, flexing in and out like he’s trying to hold something together that already broke. His pulse is a steady hammer at his throat.
He’s slipping.
Shit.
Sebastian's anger was a storm, unlike Malikai and his cool logic. No—Seb is the fire. The hammer. The son who needs to feel something break in order to rebuild. And if I don’t give him a target… he’ll find his own. Or become it.
I move to him, take his hand in both of mine, ignoring the blood. I lift his chin, forcing his eyes to meet mine, speaking Italian.
“ It’s us against the world, yeah?”
His breath hitches, eyes bright with rage and grief, before he lets it out in a shaky exhale.
He grits out, repeating the phrase, jaw locked.
I nod, then turn to face Talon’s brothers. Axel looks stunned. Nitro? Suspicious. Calculating. I don’t care.
“Is there somewhere I can clean him up?” I ask coolly.
They just stare.
“We’ll need a place to change. And your gym. I remember where it is, but save me the trouble and show us.” I arch a brow, voice calm but clipped. “We need to work out some aggression.”
Their faces? Slack-jawed disbelief. I don’t wait for them to speak.
“Armand,” I call, “have someone bring our bags in.”
Then to Axel and Nitro. “I assume Talon will want the boys close, given… recent developments. We’ll stay as long as necessary. For their sake.”
They turn to each other, having a silent exchange. Nitro shrugs. Axel glares.
I meet his glare with indifference. I have no time for grown men with hurt feelings.
My boys are bleeding and breaking in front of me.
My energy belongs to them. Sebastian opens his mouth—probably to argue.
I cut him off before the words came. “It’s not just your call. You know that. Do it for them.”
He swallows his frustration. I pull him into a hug, kiss his forehead, and feel the tension in him slowly melt.
This trip was unplanned. But we’re here now.
And I’ll make the best of it—for them. Sam, Armand, Luca, and I planned for every possible scenario.
None of this is surprising. As I glance over at Armand, he’s already watching. Waiting. I nod once.
He nods back.
Game on.
I turn to Axel, who's glaring at me like the asshole he is. But with Talon gone, he’s in charge as VP. So, I’ll give him the respect his position demands—even if I don’t like his arrogant ass.
“I’m sure your brother is off licking his wounds,” I say flatly.
“I don’t want to disturb your family day or the celebration of your niece.
Just show us where to go, and we’ll stay out of your way.
We can also leave if you prefer. But business…
” I pause and lock eyes with them, letting the weight of that word settle. “Business is a separate matter.”
For a few beats, both men just stare. My patience thins fast.
I smooth my tone into something calm—something my boys know means I’m done playing nice. “Shall we, gentlemen?” I motion toward the door.
A snicker from Nitro breaks the tension. “Did this bitch just gentle voice our asses?” he says, amusement in his tone, not malice.
Axel grunts.
Clasping Seb’s arm when he tenses at the disrespect, but I keep my expression neutral, standing tall with my sons at my side. We wait. Silent. Unmoved.
Nitro lets out a breathy chuckle, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Well, all right then. Let’s get this shit show on the road. Talon’s gonna want the boys close.”
He studies us momentarily, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. Then he clears his throat and adds, “You, though… I don’t know if he’ll want you here.”
Like that’s supposed to be news.
I don’t give a damn what Talon wants. My kids come first—always. Call me a helicopter mom if you want. I’ll wear that title until my last breath.
Axel keeps throwing daggers with his eyes, and Armand stays alert and annoyed.
No surprise there. I’m starting to get used to the chip Axel carries on his shoulder.
He’s the rottweiler of the trio—loyal, aggressive, always ready to bite.
I respect that. But he had better remember. I don’t play when it comes to mine.
“I honestly don’t care what Talon wants. I care about what my children need. If they want to stay, we’ll stay. End of story.”
I turn and walk out without waiting for a response.
These men are testing every last nerve I have.
I get it—Talon being a father is a shock.
But the real bombshells haven’t even dropped yet.
As we file into the hallway, I keep my sons ahead of me.
I feel it—Axel’s not done. And I’m right.
A rough hand grabs my upper arm. Hard. I don’t flinch.
Axel.
Typical.
I see Armand’s whole posture shift—ready to react. His jaw tightens. But I wave him off. This is mine to handle.
Axel steps in close, breath hot near my ear.
“I don’t know what the fuck went down between you and my brother.
All I heard was the sob story you and your kid laid out in there.
” His voice drips venom. “I don’t give a fuck about poor you.
Know this—if you fuck with my family, mother of his kids or not, business or not. .. I. Will. End. You.”
I turn, rip my arm free, and stare him down.
He thinks he’s intimidating. He thinks this is how power works.
Cute.
I smile.
A slow, knowing, disrespectful smile. Then I step in closer, chest to chest. Without fear, because there is not a motherfucker on the planet I have or will ever fear. My eyes filled with fury wrapped in ice.
I don’t say a word. I turn my back and keep walking.
My boys flank me. Their energy is molten, silent, coiled.
Nitro slides past, then glances over his shoulder, watching.
But Axel’s not getting off that easy.
“Axel,” I call, making him stop. He turns, eyes murderous.
I keep my voice even, but laced with steel.
“Your threats are cute. But unnecessary. If I wanted to hurt your brother or your club, I would’ve done it already.
I’ve had seventeen years to plan your downfall.
I could’ve ended you, him, her —you know, the woman who kept him from his kids—anytime I wanted. I don’t deal in idle threats.”
His jaw ticks. Good.
“I’ve kept this club safe. You think enemies haven’t tried to come for you?
They did. And I stopped them. I kept your clubhouse standing.
I protected you. So be careful how you speak to me.
Because I’m one breath away from walking away, taking my family and our allies with me.
And when I go, hell will be on your heels. ”
I pause.
“The Don sent me here for business. That’s what I’ll handle. Whether Talon wants to get to know his children that’s up to him, but I’ll be damned if anyone tells me where I do and don’t belong.”
I exhale, trying to rein in the heat rising in my chest.
“Any other questions? Any more threats?” I arch a brow.
Someone clears their throat, covering a snort. Probably one of my boys. Nitro’s still silent, observing everything.
“Good. Let’s move.”
I dare Axel to speak again. I want him to.
But he doesn’t. He glares, then turns and storms off down the hall, grumbling under his breath like a petulant child.
Armand catches the subtle shift in Sebastian before I do.
He puts a firm hand on my son’s shoulder, whispering something calming.
I keep walking, following Nitro. He glances back, studying us all, but says nothing.
Smart man. Axel disappears down the stairs, and Nitro motions for us to follow.
I’m grateful the building’s mostly empty despite the party.
The fewer people we interact with, the better. I’m too close to snapping.
He shows us the amenities—some I remember from before, though the place has changed. When we reach the gym, I’m impressed. After the brief tour, he takes us to the top floor, where we’re to stay. Apparently, we’re important enough to be put up on the President’s floor.
I’m not sure how I feel about being that close to Talon and her . But this isn’t about me. It’s about our children.
Nitro must sense my unease.
He explains, “Talon and his family don’t usually stay here. They’ve got a house on the property. This floor’s mostly for lockdowns. The only ones who stay up here regularly are him and Axel. You shouldn’t run into them much.”
That helps. A little.
But nothing about this is easy. And I have the sinking feeling it’s all about to get harder, messier.