The woman gyrating on my lap is doing nothing for me and she obviously realizes that because she spins around and whispers seductively, “We could go somewhere more private and I will show you a good time.”

My gaze moves past her to my men, enjoying their usual evening, pressed up against their latest chick, or watching the game on the huge eighty inch screen set above the bar.

This is The Darkside. The home I bled sweat and blood to create. It’s been ten years since tears joined that list because the second she walked away from me, so did emotion.

I became cruel, heartless and unemotional, and living in the same town as that bitch only fuels my anger every fucking day.

The woman on my lap was picked for a reason.Her similarity to Santobello’s wife.I treat her as I want to treat the woman who savagely cut out my heart and walked away, dropping it to the stone below my feet while I watched her leave.

I punish any woman who resembles her and treat them with the same disinterest. Some call me cruel, some call me a bastard, but it doesn’t stop them trying to tame the savage beast.

“Beat it.” I stand, effectively dropping her to the ground, and I run my fingers through my hair as my sister cackles from behind the bar.

“Someone’s grouchy tonight.”

Tanya has made a living of taunting me, and I bite back.

“Are you still here? Don’t you have tricks to turn and men to manipulate?”

“Fuck you, Atom.” She hisses, grabbing her purse before taking a slug of vodka directly from the bottle she steals from the bar.

“You’re all a bunch of losers. Don’t wait up.”

She flounces out on her six-inch heels, tossing her hair behind her as she heads to God only knows where. I stopped caring a long time ago when she decided working for Michael Santobello was a good career move. I begged her to walk away from him and his associates, but if anything, it had the opposite effect. She got in deeper and I try not to think of the shit she does on Michael’s command.

I often think back to the day everything changed and the tender moment we shared in the kitchen of our grandparent’s house. She wanted the stars, she got hell’s fire instead, and I got everything I wanted except for one thing. Her. The woman who no longer has a name because when the angels wrote our names in lights, the devil scratched her name away and replaced it with his. She is the devil in my eyes and I will forever be paying the price of gifting her my soul.

“You okay, man?” Razor’s concern is touching, but not what I need right now and I jerk my head toward my office.

He follows me silently and as we close the door on the noise of the bar, it strikes me how far we’ve come as a club.

Four have become close to forty members. All leather clad warriors intent on living and dying for The Dark Angels. There are around twenty of us patched in and the same again in prospects desperate to make the cut.

They are loyal, brave and proud of their club and they are my true family now.

The Darkside is a thriving business and community. Our motorcycle garage is the best in the district and Diesel has four other mechanics working with him. Billy’s tattoo shop is always fully booked, and he works alongside three other people. I oversee it all and take on business opportunities thrown my way. Some may say I have my shit worked out. They would be right.

Razor closes the door behind him and we take our usual seats as I pour us a shot of bourbon.

“The dance studio.” I say as I hand him his shot.

“Sydney’s place?”

I nod, staring at him with a thoughtful gleam.

“I heard she’s out of town and her friend Lucy is running it.”

“Same.” He grasps the glass in one hand and leans back. “Why is that our concern?”

“Because Lucy is feeling the pressure right now as her name is stamped on a job at The Starlight Club.”

“It was nice knowing her.” Razor raises his glass and I fix him with a keen glare.

“Word is she has protection. A bodyguard, for want of a better word.”

Razor laughs softly. “She’s a wise woman, but I thought she was protected by Dominic Riley. Isn’t she his assistant, among other things?”

“Washis assistant.”