Page List

Font Size:

Montana’s words hung in the air as the weight of the revelation sank in. The young woman in the photograph, the one who looked so much like me, was undeniably my daughter. The product of a heinous act that would haunt me for the remainder of my days.

“So, what now?” Montana asked, his voice laced with a mixture of determination and desperation. “You have to find her. If she knows anything, you need to find out.”

I nodded, knowing he was right. I had to locate this woman, this potential daughter of mine, and uncover the truth.

“Take a look at the background, Montana.”

Doing as I asked, he cursed. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

“Nope.” I shook my head. “She’s staying at the Silver Shadows’ clubhouse in Diamond Creek, Nebraska.”

“A club girl?”

I stiffened and sneered. “Not for long if she is.”

“So when do you want to leave for Nebraska?”

“As soon as possible.”

Little did I know that my search would lead me down a rabbit hole of family secrets and lies, exposing a lineage of corruption that went deeper than either of us could have ever imagined.

PART TWO

Every beginning has an end.

This is mine.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Bane

Present day, three weeks ago...

The rain pelted my face as I stood outside the clubhouse, knowing she was in there.

What the fuck was I doing? I knew the second I walked into that place, there was a damn good chance I would never walk out. I’d heard stories of what went on behind those doors, and the thought of my daughter in there with them was something I flat-out refused to even think about.

On some level, I knew Kane wouldn’t hurt her.

It was me he really wanted. Or so I believed.

It was the others I didn’t trust. Not that I trusted Kane much either—only about as far as I could throw him.

For as long as I could remember, my father told me horrific stories about the Brotherhood and the man who ran the place, Kalden Baudelaire. His words painted a vivid picture: a den of iniquity, a viper’s nest of lawless thugs who cared only for themselves, men whose smiles hid sharpened knives. He hammered the message home, etching a deep-seated fear of the Brotherhood into my soul. He warned me to steer clear, a warning that echoed in my gut like a death knell. But the whispers started subtly, insinuations from my friends, dropped hints of power, of respect, of the Brotherhood’s almost mythical influence on the city. My father’s warnings felt like shackles, heavy and restrictive, yet a perverse curiosity gnawed at me, a fascination with the forbidden fruit.

My own morals screamed against it. My father’s words, his sacrifices, his unwavering honesty, formed the bedrock of my belief system. Yet, somewhere within those walls was my daughter.

An innocent who did not know the danger she was in.

The second I knew where she was, my decision was a no-brainer, visceral knowledge between filial duty and ingrained morality. To approach the Brotherhood would be to betray my father’s memory, to violate the principles he’d instilled in me. It would mean associating with the very evil he’d fought against his whole life. Yet, to do nothing meant condemning my daughter to a fate she didn’t deserve.

“I don’t like this, August.”

“It’s not your decision,” I snarled, glaring at Meredith. From the moment she walked back into my life, I wanted to wrap my hands around her neck and strangle her to death. The scent of her perfume sickened me, and her touch—it was nothing but a reminder of everything I’d lost. So much could have been prevented if she’d just come to me or Montana when she escaped the Trick Pony and come clean. Instead, she chose revenge, a cold, calculated vengeance that now ensnared my daughter, a child who didn’t ask to be brought into this world and sure as hell didn’t deserve to be a pawn in this war. My daughter was in there because her manipulative mother wanted what she couldn’t have.

Me.

The irony wasn’t lost on me because I couldn’t have what I wanted, either.