Twenty
Everything is all rainbows and fucking butterflies until the past comes back to bite you in the ass.
T here’s no way Heather is related to that slimy piece of shit—let alone be his daughter.
Right? She told me her family died in a car accident.
Hound Senior backed it up. Said her mother and brother were gone before she ever came around.
But thinking back… she never once mentioned a father.
Not even a passing comment. And I never fucking asked. Not once. That’s on me.
Shit.
Fuck.
Damnit.
I press my palms to my face, sucking in air like it’ll keep the rage from boiling over.
Like it’ll drown out the truth punching through my ribcage.
She told me she’d been traveling. She said she was drifting, searching for something, and found it with us.
With me . That being around the club felt like home.
Damn, I believed her. She played her part perfectly.
Sweet. Damaged. Loyal. Too loyal, and now I’m looking at everything with fresh eyes.
Did she manipulate me?
Did she manipulate my entire fucking club?
Why? What did we ever do to deserve that kind of betrayal?
Heather was persistent, yeah. Wanted me more than I ever wanted her.
At first, I figured she just loved hard—maybe too hard.
Claimed she had no one. Said she was alone in the world, like that gave her a pass to cling to me the way she did.
And after the shit with Gabriella? I guess I was ripe for the picking.
Broken. Hollow. Looking for something to numb the ache, to quiet the guilt.
So I let her in. Let her wrap herself around me, again and again, thinking maybe she saw something in me worth staying for.
But I was a fucking idiot.
She didn’t see me. She saw an opening. A weakness. A damn opportunity.
And she took it.
I fucked up. I let a viper sleep beside me.
Let her wrap herself around my world and call it love.
I lift my gaze to Gabriella. After what I just said, she should be spitting fire at me right now.
But she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t curse my ass out or throw the betrayal back in my face.
She’s steady. Still, her silence is somehow worse.
I know what I said was out of line, and my Pop’s about ready to tear me a new one.
I can feel the fury radiating off him, standing there with my brothers like a wall of judgment.
I deserve it.
Gabriella finally speaks, and her voice cuts through the room like steel on bone.
“Heather was sent here by her father to gather intel on your club—by any means necessary. If not from your father or your brothers, then from you. ”
Each word is a blade. Meant to cut.
“Demon wanted information. Wanted access. He’s been trying to take this territory for years. Your club has always been in the way. You’ve been the thorn in his side since your father set up shop. So he sent Heather—his own fucking daughter—to infiltrate. To destroy from the inside.”
I go still.
“She was the weapon,” Gabriella says, tone flat and cold. “You were the target.”
I feel sick. Like my gut just bottomed out.
“When he came up with the plan, he’d been told you were liberal with your bed.” She doesn’t soften the words. Doesn’t sugarcoat it. Just throws it out there and lets it land.
It hits.
Hard.
I want to deny it. But there’s no point. It’s true. I gave Heather exactly what she wanted. I let her into my bed, my life, my club. I handed her the keys and thanked her for the betrayal.
“He knew about your club’s bylaws. Knew if she got pregnant, she’d be in. The kid would tie her to the club even if you didn't claim her. You’d protect her. Give her access. Give her everything. ”
It’s all so fucking clear now.
She lets out a cold, bitter laugh. “And it worked.”
That laugh makes my jaw clench. This isn’t funny. This is war. This is betrayal.
“This was always about infiltration. She used what you gave her. Your weakness. Your trust.”
I stare at her, feeling like the dumbest motherfucker alive. “For fuck sakes…”
“She and I got pregnant around the same time. My kids are a few months older than the one you lost.” Her voice softens, but it doesn’t waver. “From the messages we pulled from her correspondence with Demon, the plan had been in motion for months before she met you. The bitch was relentless.”
Gabriella chuckles again. Not amused—numb. Detached. But the sound cuts me all the same.
“I’m honestly shocked there aren’t more little Mastersons running around. I assume she tampered with your stash of condoms.”
I feel the shame slither in, and this time, I don’t stop it. I let it crawl up my spine and sink its claws into me. I deserve it. Then something in Gabriella shifts. She lets me see her–– really see her for the first time since she came back. And what I see in her eyes shreds me.
Hurt.
Betrayal.
Pain.
The ache of unanswered calls. Of unread messages. Of sleeping alone while I was out fucking someone else. Of trying to hold it all together without me, without her kids’ father. It’s all there.
And then… It’s gone.
The ice queen is back.
But I saw it, and I’ll never unsee it. And the feeling hits me in the gut.
I feel like a piece of shit, the worst kind of bastard.
The kind that knows he broke something sacred and can’t glue the pieces back.
Oh, how the tides turn. I sit with it. Let the weight of it settle.
No more excuses. No more bullshit. I’m not some punk kid anymore.
I knew better. And I still broke her. I look around.
My brothers all look wrecked. Silent rage in their eyes.
We all let Heather in. Believed her. Built with her, and Luna… fuck. My daughter. How do I even explain this to her? I take a slow breath, trying to find my footing. Then I glance at Gabriella again. She’s staring off into nothing. Not me. Not the floor. Not the walls. I want her to see me.
Please, just look at me.
See that I’m sorry. That I’d give anything to take it all back. She doesn’t. She can’t. I destroyed something once-in-a-lifetime for something that was a dime a dozen, and now? I have to live with that. I turn to Hound. No more wallowing. No more self-pity. Time to clean up the mess.
“What’ve you found, brother?”
Hound leans forward, jaw locked.
“We searched your house. The compound. Your floor. Axel checked her purse and car at the hospital. Found a used burner. A few unopened ones are stuffed in shoeboxes. She kept the used ones too.” He says, disbelief lacing his voice as he shakes his head.
I blink, processing. “She kept used burners?”
“Yeah. Like she didn’t think we’d look. Or she just didn’t give a fuck.” His jaw ticks. “Those phones are full of messages to Demon. Calls. Photos. Location data. It goes back years , Talon. Way before you two met.”
The weight of it slams down like a cinder block to the chest.
She was playing the long game. And I let her.
All around me, my brothers wear the same look—fury, betrayal, regret.
I slam my hand on the table. “ Fuck! ”
My brain flashes back to the day Luna was born.
My mother, crying, warned me. Told me Heather was wrapped in shadows.
That she’d be the death of me, I didn’t listen.
I fucking didn’t listen. And now? I’m paying the price.
With everything that matters, everything I love, and everything I was supposed to protect.
“I got all the correspondence, which was a lot, Prez. She shared information about drops, transports, locations, and routes. She shared damn near everything. Shit, she shouldn't have—she fucking had .” His tone is bitter, tight with disbelief.
Wait, what?
My whole body jerks like I’ve been sucker punched. “WAIT! How in the fuck did she get that information?”
I’m already rising to my feet, the chair groaning beneath me as I shove it back.
“I for damn sure didn’t give it to her. I may have been a fuckup for letting her into my life, my bed, and this club—but I would never, never give her club business. Pops taught me better than that.”
I look at him when I say it. His face is unreadable. Blank. But he’s watching me, and that fucks with me more than I want to admit. Because all this shit—all the betrayal, all the damage—it circles back to me. And that weight? It’s heavy as hell.
I fucked up. No denying that. I trusted a woman I never should’ve.
Let her get too close. Let her matter. But not like that.
She was never allowed behind the curtain.
Never had the keys to the kingdom. She was my ol’ lady, yeah.
But she didn’t get that unfiltered, ride-or-die kind of trust my mother has with my father.
And the truth is… I never could give her that.
Something deep down always held me back. Like my gut knew the score long before my head caught up. Even when my dick was too stupid to see the danger, my instincts never let her all the way in.
And now? Now I know why.
I’m fucking glad.
“No… You didn’t.” Gabriella’s voice cuts through the static in my head. Cold. Unapologetic. Lethal. I follow the sound—and the direction of the barrel she’s pointing.
She’s holding a Kahr CW9. Steady hands. Dead aim, and the barrel’s aimed square at Tommy Boy. My jaw tightens. The room seems to tilt for a second.
“You have got to be fucking shitting me,” I growl, turning to the man I’ve known my whole goddamn life.
This motherfucker served under my father. My Road Captain. A man I’ve bled beside. Fought beside. A man I trusted.
“WAIT A GODDAMN MINUTE!” Tommy Boy explodes in his seat like a man on fire, eyes bulging, mouth running wild.
Desperate. Cornered. “I’m no fucking snitch-ass traitor!
That girl— she’s trying to pit us against each other!
She’s already pointing her finger at your ol’ lady! She planted that shit on her!”
He jabs a finger at Gabriella. “That bitch is a jealous, pathetic cunt! ”
Gabriella doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink.
Her aim doesn’t move an inch––I can see it now.
Tommy’s unraveling. He’s going to throw anything and everything at the wall to save his own neck.
Classic Tommy. Slimy bastard’s always been a runner.
Couldn’t hold on to a woman, couldn’t raise a kid right, and never once took real responsibility for his fuckups.
Why the fuck didn’t I see this coming?
“I swear, Prez, she’s playing you! Heather loves this club! She loves you! This bitch is here to stir shit up, not to save it!” His eyes are wild as he stares at me.
He looks at my father next— wrong move. Pop’s doesn’t even blink, his eyes are burning with a quiet fury I haven’t seen before.
It’s the kind of rage and fury that isn’t loud.
It is silent, simmering until it explodes.
Tommy finally registers it. That nobody’s coming to save him.
Not me. Not Pop. Not a single damn soul in this room.
He backs away from the table, sweating bullets.
His shirt’s soaked through. His hands are twitching like he’s itching to bolt.
But there’s nowhere to go. The brothers are standing now.
Every man in this room is someone he betrayed.
My father hasn’t moved, but the weight of his stare is crushing.
And I feel it too—this tight, cold thing in my chest slowly turning to fire.
He didn’t just betray us.
He risked my kids’ lives.
He cost us product, money, and blood.
And as much as I want to pull the trigger myself, we still need answers.
So I step forward, voice low and lethal. “Why the fuck did you do it, Tommy Boy? Why’d you turn on your family? On me? On the fucking club? ”
He hesitates. I can see him weighing lies, excuses. He’s reaching, scrambling. He won’t get far.
“You... wouldn’t understand,” he mutters. “I had no fucking choice. Nancy was sick. I needed money fast. It was only supposed to be temporary, just until I could get my shit together. I never wanted this! ”
His voice trails off like the weight of his cowardice finally hits him. But I see the truth in his eyes—he knows it’s over. Even a rat knows when it’s trapped. Then he throws out the cherry on top.
“I also had a girl... she got pregnant... I—”
I see red. I roar and grab the chair behind me, hurling it across the room. It smashes against the wall with a deafening crack. He did all this—for money ? For a side piece?
“You could’ve come to us, you sorry fuck. We’re your family!”
“No, well… uh, I, uh…”
He’s stammering now. Panicked. Surrounded by wolves, and the sheep mask is off.
I take a step toward him. Each word a hammer. “You. Have. Got. To. Be. Fucking. Kidding. Me.”
My fists clench. It’s taking every ounce of control I have not to snap his neck right here. The air in the room is vibrating with tension. With fury. My brothers are ready. I can feel it.
“You did this shit because of money and the fucking bylaws?” I scoff, disgusted. “You risked everything over some broad and a baby?”
Without breaking my glare, I call out, “ Dallas. Get this motherfucker outta my sight. Put him in the hole.”
Tommy’s eyes widen. He tries to move, but his back hits the wall.
There’s nowhere to run. No escape. Dallas steps forward and without a word, lays his ass out—one solid punch to the jaw that drops Tommy like a sack of shit.
He scoops the traitor up and carries him out like trash, and for a moment, the room is still.
Silent.
I stare at the floor where Tommy stood and feel the bottom drop out.
My mind is reeling.
How did we get here?
One of our own. A founding member. A man I grew up with.
My Road Captain. Sold us out for money, pussy, and a child he created outside his marriage, outside his code, and this fucking brotherhood.
I rake a hand down my face, fury boiling under my skin.
This shit cuts deep. This kind of betrayal fractures a club, and the worst part? I let him in. I trusted him.
FUCK.
How the hell is this my goddamned life?