LOGINHe was my brother’s best friend. My first love. The first man to ever taste me. Six years ago, Axel “Ghost” Cruz vanished, leaving my heart shattered and my body aching for a touch that never came again. I tried to bury the memory of him, trading the heat of the clubhouse for a cold, safe life in the city with a man who doesn't know how to make me scream. But my father’s murder has dragged me back to the world of leather and sin. And Axel is waiting for me. He’s no longer the boy I remember. He’s a massive, tattooed enforcer with eyes that strip me naked and a voice that feels like a dark caress. He is forbidden—my brother’s most lethal weapon and the one man I should never let touch me again. But when he traps me in the dark of the garage, his rough, scarred hands sliding over my skin, my body remembers everything. I’ve spent six years pretending I’m a lady, but one growl from him and I’m just his. The air between us is thick with a hunger that could burn this whole club to the ground Now, with a war breaking out and my brother watching my every move, I have to decide: do I stay safe and hollow, or do I surrender to the man who owns every inch of me? In this world, some sins feel too good to stop—and some desires are worth the ruin
View MoreEMILIA POV
The key turned silently in the lock. I wanted to surprise David. I dropped my suitcase by the door and kicked off my heels. The apartment was quiet except for sounds coming from our bedroom. My heart started racing for all the wrong reasons. "David?" I called out softly, my voice echoing in the empty hallway. No answer. Just muffled voices and movement. I crept down the hallway, each step making my chest tighter. The bedroom door was cracked open. Through the gap, I could see tangled sheets and bare skin that didn't belong to just one person. My hand trembled as I pushed the door open. David was in our bed. With Rebecca. My best friend her blonde hair spread across my pillows while she straddled my fiancé. They both froze when they saw me. "Surprise," I said, my voice sounding flat and cold. David scrambled to sit up, pushing Rebecca off him. "Em, this isn't... I can explain..." "Explain what?" I stepped into the room, crossing my arms over my chest. Rebecca pulled the sheet up to cover herself, unable to meet my eyes. "Emily, we didn't want you to find out like this." "How long?" I repeated, my hands clenching into fists. David ran his hands through his hair. "Six months." Six months. While I'd been planning our wedding. While I'd been working sixty, hour weeks to pay for the perfect dress, the perfect venue, the perfect life we were supposed to build together. "Get out," I said to Rebecca, pointing toward the door. She grabbed her clothes from the floor. "Em, please, let me explain" "Get out of my apartment. Now." I stepped aside as she dressed quickly. Rebecca ran past me without another word. The front door slammed behind her. David wrapped the sheet around his waist and stood up. "Baby, please. It didn't mean anything." "Don't." I held up my hand, taking a step back. "Don't you dare make this my fault." "I'm not," he said, moving closer. "I'm just saying we've grown apart. You're always working, always focused on your career" "So you decided to sleep with my best friend?" I walked to our closet and pulled out my suitcase. "It was a mistake," David said, following me. "A stupid, meaningless mistake." "Six months isn't a mistake, David." I started throwing clothes into the suitcase without looking. "It's a choice." David grabbed my wrist. "Where are you going?" "Away from you." I yanked my arm free and continued packing. "Em, come on. We can work through this," he pleaded. "Couples therapy, whatever you want." I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You want to know something funny? I actually thought you were perfect, especially for a family." "What does your family have to do with this?" David asked, confusion crossing his face. I zipped up the suitcase and faced him. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Because they'd never do this to someone they claimed to love." David's face darkened. "Your family are criminals, Em. Your father was a thug who" The slap happened before I could stop myself. My palm stung from the contact with his cheek. "Don't ever talk about my father," I said quietly, my voice deadly calm. David touched his reddened cheek. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. You pretend to be this sophisticated city girl, but underneath you're still just a biker's daughter with anger issues." "You're right." I picked up my suitcase, shouldering my purse. "And you have no idea how lucky you are that I'm not my brother." I walked to the door, then turned back. "The ring is on the kitchen counter. Don't ever contact me." "Em, wait" David called out. The door closed between us with a final click. I made it to my car before the tears started. Four years. Four years of building this perfect life, this perfect relationship, this perfect lie that I could be someone else. My phone buzzed. A text from Rebecca: Please talk to me. I'm so sorry. I deleted it without reading it twice. Another buzz. David: I love you. Please don't leave like this. I turned the phone off and started the engine. I drove to the only place I could think of Sofia's apartment across town. My friend from college who'd stuck by me when I'd tried so hard to reinvent myself. She was the only person in the city who knew where I really came from. I knocked on her door at eleven PM, probably looking like hell in my wrinkled business suit with mascara streaks on my cheeks. Sofia opened the door in pajamas, took one look at me, and pulled me inside. "What happened?" "David was sleeping with Rebecca," I said, letting her guide me to the couch. Sofia wrapped me in a hug. "That pendejo. I never liked him anyway." "You never said that." I pulled back to look at her. "Because you seemed happy," Sofia said, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "But he was boring as shit, Em." I laughed despite everything. "Six months. They've been together for six months." Sofia stood up and walked to her kitchen. "His loss. You want wine or tequila?" "Tequila," I said without hesitation. Sofia poured two shots and sat back down beside me. "So what now?" "I don't know." I downed the tequila, welcoming the burn. "I gave up everything for him. My job, my apartment is in both our names, my whole life here." Sofia leaned forward, studying my face. "You didn't give up everything. You gave up a life that wasn't really you anyway." I looked at her, frowning. "What do you mean?" "Come on, Em," Sofia said, her voice gentle. "I've known you for six years. The real you comes out when you're angry, when you're passionate about something. The rest of the time you're playing dress, up." Before I could answer, my phone started ringing. I'd turned it back on out of habit. Unknown number. Area code 760. Home. My blood turned to ice. Nobody from Desert Ridge ever called me. Marco and I barely talked, and Dad... Dad didn't believe in phones for personal calls. Sofia watched my face change. "Answer it." My hands shook as I swiped to answer. "Hello?" "Em?" Marco's voice was rough. "Em, you need to come home." My stomach dropped to the floor. "What's wrong?" "Dad's dead," Marco said. "The Reapers got him. They shot up the clubhouse last night." The phone slipped from my fingers but Sofia caught it before it hit the ground. "Em? Em, are you there?" Marco's voice called from the speaker. Sofia held the phone to my ear, her other hand gripping my shoulder. "I'm here." "I'm sorry, baby sister," Marco continued. "I know you two didn't talk much after you left, but" "How?" My voice was barely a whisper. Marco's voice cracked. "Three bullets to the chest. He was leaving Mama C's house when they jumped him." The world tilted sideways. My father. Vincent Romano. The man who'd taught me to ride a bike, who'd scared away every boy who looked at me wrong, who'd let me leave for college even though it broke his heart. Gone. "Em, I need you to come home," Marco said. "The funeral's in three days, and with the war starting" "War?" I found my voice. "The Reapers think they can take our territory now that Dad's gone," Marco said, his voice turning cold. "They're wrong. But I need my family here. I need you here." I closed my eyes. "Marco, I can't. I don't belong in that world anymore." "You're a Romano," Marco said firmly. "That blood doesn't wash off, no matter how many suits you wear." Sofia squeezed my shoulder, nodding encouragingly. "Okay," I whispered. "Okay, I'll come home." "Good. And Em..." Marco's voice got quiet. "Axel's back. He's coming to get you." The phone went dead in my hands.EMILIA POV The sun had completed its descent behind the jagged peaks, leaving the entire valley wrapped in a deep, cool purple twilight that smelled of sage and wet earth. The children were still lingering near the edge of the lawn, their movements slowing as the exhaustion of the summer day finally caught up to their small frames. The peace inside the courtyard felt absolute, a perfect, unbroken seal that nothing could penetrate. And then, with a synchronized, jarring vibration that cut through the silence like a blade, three distinct cell phones buzzed simultaneously on the porch. Axel’s phone chimed from his breast pocket. Marcus’s phone let out a low, metallic ring from the adobe wall. My own device vibrated violently against my hip. The timing of the notification was entirely surgical—all at the exact same second, all tracking from the exact same encrypted, unknown international registry that we hadn't seen since our years in Europe. Axel pulled his phone out first, the soft
EMILIA POV The summer evening hung over the valley with a rare, absolute stillness that made the desert feel infinite. The sky was bleeding into a deep, magnificent amber that turned the entire property, the orchard, and the distant mountains into a sharp silhouette against the golden hour. Every single piece of our circle was gathered in the backyard for the sunset. Axel and I stood near the porch steps, our shoulders touching, while Marcus and Catherine were seated on the low adobe wall near the garden bed, and Isabella remained anchored in her rocking chair beneath the trees, her wool blanket neatly covering her lap against the incoming cool air. Marco and our little Isabella were leading the twins through the final patch of grass near the fence line, their young voices ringing out clearly through the quiet, amber air. The children were completely lost in their own world, oblivious to the adults watching them. Dmitri was charging after a stray yellow butterfly with a loud, energ
EMILIA POV The second summer after the twin heartbeats first filled the nursery arrived with an intense, golden heat that turned the entire valley into a beautiful, sun-drenched sanctuary of peace. The orchard was heavy with fruit, and the mountain winds kept the air sweet and clean. Late one Sunday afternoon, the light was bleeding a brilliant, warm amber across the lawn as all the children played together in the backyard, their voices echoing off the adobe walls. Dmitri was charging through the thick grass with a loud, joyful energy, chasing his sister Katarina, who was navigating the flowerbeds with a quick, clever agility that kept her one step ahead of his lunges. Marco, now taller and carrying himself with his father's steady posture, was leading them through a series of elaborate lawn games he had invented, while our little Isabella was sitting on a checkered blanket nearby, her serious dark eyes completely focused as she organized her wooden dolls in a neat line. They were e
AXEL POV The first birthday of the twins arrived exactly one year after that frantic morning in the Albuquerque delivery suite. We turned the entire central courtyard into a massive celebration, inviting our core foundation directors and the local staff who had become our extended family over the long journey out of the dark. The day was brilliant, the high desert sky a flawless sheet of blue that made the adobe walls glow like gold. Marco was tracking perfectly through his elementary school classes, running around the lawn with his friends from the valley, while our little Isabella was proving to be a terrifically sharp toddler, her dark eyes tracking every single movement in the courtyard with an intensity she inherited directly from her mother. Isabella, the elder, remained anchored in her wicker chair beneath the shade of the large cottonwood trees, her posture frail but her presence completely central to the geography of the room. Marcus and Catherine brought the twins out int


















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