Page 38 of Devil in Disguise

“He’s confused, Dante.”

“Well, I’m not!” I snarked. “I’ve been in love with that man since I first laid eyes on him. I’ve watched as he whored himself out with every female on campus. I held him as he sank deep into his mind, where the darkness almost consumed him. I stood back and did nothing as he’s given himself to everyone around him, never caring about his own health. When does it stop, Stella? Tell me, because if we stay in this world, eventually it will kill him and then where will our daughter and I be?”

“You don’t know that, Dante,” Stella whispered. “Danny grew up in this world. He loves the Biker Federation. It’s what he knows.”

“I know Danny loves the Biker Federation, but at what cost? He’s not the same man I fell in love with. The Danny I know would never have forgotten about our daughter. He doesn’t even recognize me. I’m a stranger to him.” My voice cracked, my pain evident. “I can’t bear the thought of losing him, but I can’t stand idly by and watch him self-destruct. Our daughter needs at least one of us. I won’t let her grow up without a father. Not if I can help it.”

Stella placed her hand on mine, offering what comfort she could. “We’ll get through this, Dante. Danny is a fighter, and he’s lucky to have you by his side. You’re his anchor, and he’ll realize that soon enough. As for your little girl, she’s safe. She will have both of you.”

I took a shuddering breath, steeling myself for the challenges ahead. “I hope you’re right, Stella. I can’t lose them. They are my everything.”

I couldn’t bear the thought of a life without Danny in it. He was my world. The idea of him slipping away, of his memories never returning, was like a knife twisting in my heart. I knew he was struggling, lost in the darkness of his own mind, and it killed me that I couldn’t reach him. I wanted to shake him, to scream at him, to remember—to remember our love, our daughter, and the life we had built together. But I was powerless, trapped in a nightmare where the man I loved didn’t know who I was.

Stella tried to reassure me, but her words offered little comfort. She didn’t understand the depth of my love for Danny, the way my world revolved around him. I had seen his self-destructive tendencies, the way he lost himself in the Biker Federation, but I had always been there to pull him back, to remind him he was worth more than the darkness. Now, I was a stranger to him, and the thought of him slipping further away was unbearable. I knew our daughter needed at least one of us, and the thought of her growing up without a father broke my heart even more.

As I sat there, overwhelmed by my emotions, I made a silent promise to myself. I would do whatever it took to bring Danny back to me. I would remind him of our love, of the life we had built, and of the little girl who needed us both. I refused to accept a future without him. I would be his anchor, his light in the darkness, and I would not let him go without a fight.

“Who is Danika?”

The words hung in the air, thick and venomous. Danny’s furious glare burned into me. The air crackled with unspoken accusations. A palpable heat radiated off him. The scent of his anger was sharp and acrid. His knuckles, white as bone, were clenched tight enough to draw blood. The heavy silence was punctuated only by the ragged rasp of his breath, like a predator circling its prey.

“I will not fucking ask you again,” he hissed, his threat barely contained. “Who. Is. She?”

Stella, her face pale and drawn, whispered, “I’ll leave you two alone to talk,” before she melted away.

I pushed myself to my feet, a sigh escaping my lips.

“She’s my biological daughter.” My words hung in the heavy air.

His jaw clenched. “You... you have a kid?”

“Yes.” The word felt brittle, fragile against the onslaught of his fury.

“So you lied to me. You’re not gay then?”

His question was a cruel twist of the knife, a deliberate attempt to unravel me.

“What?” I choked as my breath caught in my throat. “Yes. I am. Always have been.”

His scoff was a physical blow.

“Then explain it to me, because two sperms don’t make life.” His words dripped with contempt.

“It’s complicated.” I saw his disappointment as he shook his head in disbelief and rage warred on his face.

“Apparently, that’s the first truth you’ve uttered. Tell me, Dante, what else have you been lying about? This charade—this whole fucking performance. Was it your plan from the start?”

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. “What?” My question was a pathetic whimper against the storm he was unleashing.

“Don’t play innocent now that you’ve been cornered. What’s your endgame? To manipulate me? To get me to reveal something? Are you working with Ace? That dream—that fucked up dream of us—was it real, or some twisted, calculated manipulation to get access to one of the clubs?”

His words tumbled out, a torrent of accusations fueled by a pain so raw it was almost palpable. He was unraveling. His anger was a suffocating blanket, obscuring reason, blinding him to truth. He took a step closer, the scent of his cologne, usually comforting, now reeked of aggression.

I stumbled back, raising my hands in a futile gesture of appeasement.

“Danny, I don’t know what you think you know, but I had nothing to do with your accident. I swear it!”

“Someone did. Who?” His voice was a low growl, a chilling promise of violence.

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