Page 72 of The Bane of a Sinner
Laughter from the gathering room had us all turning as we watched Fury and Vicious walk into the boardroom, only to stop dead in their tracks when their eyes landed on Shame.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Fury roared as Vicious closed his eyes and shook his head, before groaning, “I fucking knew I should have stayed in California.”
Shame stood just as Fury hugged him hard, and Vicious walked over, shaking the man’s hand. Looking at the others sitting at the table, he asked, “So, what else did we miss?”
“So, let me get this straight,” Fury, the club’s sergeant at arms, groaned, rubbing his hands down his face. “Bane is married to a woman named Diana Cooper. Has been for the last twenty fucking years. And the fucking rift between you two was nothing more than a ploy to throw George off while Bane gathered evidence using the club’s DNA database against the sick fucker.”
“Yes,” I stated, and Montana nodded.
“So Pippen and Amber are yours, then?” Vicious asked, and I nodded.
“And DNA proves that?” Fury challenged.
My head snapped up as I glared at the fucker. “What are you saying, Fury? You’re saying I don’t know my own flesh and blood when I see them?”
“He’s got a point, Bane,” Torment piped up.
“The fuck he does,” I snapped. “You saw them with your own eyes, Torment. They look like me.”
“No, they look like Meredith. They have similarities to you. All I’m saying is, consider the source. You learned of their existence from the ghost files. Files accumulated and constructed by GeorgemotherfuckingStone.”
“Torment’s right,” Montana piped up. “Say what you want about my father, but the only good thing he did right was force you to create that damn DNA database. We need confirmation. You need it, August, because if there’s even a small chance, then we need to know. Storm, reach out to your intern. Tell him we need his blood.”
Storm glared. “He’s not a fucking intern anymore.”
Montana sneered, “Just call the fucking kid. In the meantime, we have a serious fucking problem.”
“Hold up!” I shouted, slamming my hand down on the table.
“No, brother,” Fury interjected. “You need to think logically about this. Remember the shitstorm when Linsey showed up with my girls. I fucking knew they were mine, but the club insisted on DNA. It’s always been that way. Hell, when Tessa returned with York, Montana didn’t blink, demanding a DNA test. It’s always been that way. Every brother, every wife, every child of the board is given a DNA test to prove legitimacy.”
“Fury’s right, Bane,” Storm added. “Even when I got back together with Delany, she and Harper were tested. It’s just the way of the club. Pippen should have been tested before I made him a brother. That’s on me. But now that he is, it needs to be done.”
Leaning forward in his chair, Montana looked at me. “August, can you honestly sit there and tell me you are the only one who fucked that cunt? That you can remember clearly what happened that night?”
Sighing, I shook my head. “You know I can’t.”
“Then we need to be sure. You need to know, because if there is a chance, even a small one, that you are not their father, we need to know.”
“I claimed them.”
“And that won’t change if you’re not their father. Pippen is ours. He wears the Soulless Sinner brand. Amber is his twin. She’s ours too. That will never change.”
The room pulsed with tension, heavy and unspoken. Each brother’s face was carved in stone—lines of loyalty, betrayal, and years of hard-fought battles etched deep. I met Montana’s stare, searching for something solid to ground me, but all I found was the certainty that the club’s rules were etched in blood, not ink. The world outside didn’t get it, wouldn’t get it, but inside these walls, family was forged and proven.
My brother’s words lingered, wrapping around the silence like a noose. Pippen and Amber—no matter what the test showed, they belonged here. I knew that in my marrow, but doubt was a venom, slow and persistent. Fury tapped his knuckles on the table, deliberate, reminding me of what was at stake.
I drew a breath, steadying myself. “Fine. Do the test. But whatever the result, they stay. No one’s voting them out.”
Montana’s lips curled, half in approval, half in warning. “That’s how it’s always been.”
Fury shrugged, voice gruff yet softer than before. “Blood or not, family is chosen here.”
“Now that that’s settled,” Montana sighed. “We have a bigger problem than DNA confirmation. To get Bane away from the Brotherhood, I agreed to trade Meredith for Bane. Morpheus is expecting delivery by the end of the week.”
“Does Reaper know?” Storm asked. “I mean, she is a Doherty. He doesn’t strike me as someone who would give up his own blood.”
“He’s got his own problems at the moment,” Vicious muttered as he glanced at Fury, who seemed to sink deeper into his chair.
