Chapter Fourteen

Storm

After making sure Delany was with Marco and Harlow, I took a seat in the living room, waiting for the boom to be lowered. Around me, Malice leaned against the fireplace, glaring as Matthew Law and Sypher's older brother, Ace Franks, listened as Sypher laid everything out on the table.

"First, let me be very clear. My fucking fee tripled because I had to break several federal laws to get this fucked-up information. If it ever gets out that it was me, the FEDs will be up my ass and I'll be looking at federal prison time."

"Said I would pay. So get on with it," I groaned.

"Whoever buried this shit, buried it fucking deep." Sypher sighed, opening his laptop. "And you are not going to like who fucking buried it."

"Let me guess," Malice muttered. "George Stone."

"Give the man an apple." Sypher nodded. "George motherfucking Stone. The former president of the Soulless Sinners. The very club you two belong to. But it gets better."

"Always does when George is involved," I muttered, leaning forward. "Hit me."

"Well, for starters, Delany's father, Donald Campbell, was on the level. The man was a genuine, honest-to-God fucking hero. Mr. Campbell defied orders along with his firehouse brothers and entered Tower One, to rescue as many people as they could. When Tower Two fell, he had no choice but to get everyone out. Not only did he save his brothers that day, but he also saved many civilians. Now here is the part you are not going to fucking like. The day the towers were attacked, your club was there, helping to rescue as many people as they could. Well, that's what the papers say. But in reality, your fucking club was there looking for a man named Mirage."

"Mirage?" I asked, confused, looking at Malice, who shrugged. However, when Sypher's brother, Ace, stiffened, I knew I wasn't going to like what the kid said next.

"The reason you don't know the fucking name is because the man was a ghost, a dead man walking. Thought to be long gone from this world, only to reemerge from the bowels of hell, determined to destroy the Golden Skulls."

"What the hell does the Golden Skulls have to do with this?" Malice asked, pushing off the wall and walking over to stand behind me.

Yeah. I was with Malice as I sat still, waiting, when the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention.

Anything to do with the Golden Skulls didn't bode well for anyone.

The Golden Skulls were no joke. Led by Maxwell Doherty, better known as Reaper, a man who shared his soul with the Devil. The Soulless Sinners had their run-ins with the Golden Skulls in the past. Most recently when Montana and the Russian Bratva boss, Maxim Fedorov, joined forces to help Reaper take down a cabal formerly known as the Society . The aftermath of that war was still being felt across the world.

"Mirage was a fucking piece of shit. His real name was Alexander Goldman. The biological father of Solomon and Kitty. His father was Xavier Goldman, one of the Original Seven, and founder of the Golden Skulls. Now you're probably asking yourself, what the hell does this Goldman fucker have to do with your woman's dad? Well, here is the shit kicker," Sypher sneered, then dropped a fucking bomb no one was ready for. "They are brothers. David Campbell is David Campbell Goldman. Your woman is Golden. That's why Montana wanted your baby momma to sign those papers. He can't have a Golden Legacy in his club. Not after what his father did."

Holy mother of God.

This was not happening.

Out of all the women in the world, I found the one woman linked by legacy to the fucking Golden Skulls.

I knew I had the Midas touch but fuck me.

"What the fuck is going on?" I roared, getting to my feet. "The Soulless Sinners have nothing to do with the Golden Skulls. Yes, our paths have crossed before, but why hide this?"

"Because before shit kicked off with the club and the Society , George Stone was making a play for the Golden Skulls. George knew if he could kill Reaper before he took the seat, with Alexander at his side, he had the in he needed to make the Golden Skulls a chapter of the Soulless Sinners. Kill Reaper, and Alexander would control everything."

"Fuck," Malice growled, shaking his head.

"Exactly," Sypher sneered. "Sit back down, Storm, because I'm not done yet."

"Fucking hell." I sighed, doing as he asked, bracing myself when Sypher slid a folder toward me.

My hands shook as I reached for the folder, only to still when Sypher spoke, "David and Donna Campbell didn't just die in a house fire. George Stone ordered members of the Sinners' Arizona Chapter to execute them after he learned a New York City reporter was going to run a story bringing up the arson and murder investigation of the five families. And just so you know, he also killed the reporter. She was seven months pregnant."

"I think I'm gonna be sick," I muttered, leaning forward, holding my head in my hands as I tried to absorb everything.

"You know, I thought William Doherty was the sickest piece of shit on the planet, but I gotta say Storm, George Stone, is really living up to his vile reputation. He killed innocent people to further his agenda. Men, women, and children."

"How sure are you?" Malice asked, unmoving.

"Very," Sypher snapped. "Just like I'm fucking positive that the Society , the very organization the Golden Skulls fought against for years, and your current president and the Bratva helped to bring down, for years had a sleeper no one considered."

"Who?" Malice growled.

"Your former president, George Stone."

"Oh God." I sighed, leaning back.

"I'll kill him," Malice growled, storming out of the penthouse. Even if I wanted to, there was no stopping Malice because if he didn't kill George Stone, I would. The ramifications of his actions would be catastrophic if anyone found out. It was bad enough that Malice and I knew, but knowing that two brothers, sons of a former chapter president of the Golden Skulls, knew was bad.

Really fucking bad.

There was no fucking way Montana could sweep this shit under the rug. All the markers in the world wouldn't stop Reaper when he learned the truth.

I refused to believe Montana would knowingly allow his father to live if he knew the whole truth of who his father was. Not after everything he did and particularly who the S ociety was. They were the most corrupt organization on the fucking planet, and that was saying something, considering some of the shit my club was involved with.

"Storm, you have a big fucking problem, because when Reaper learns that there is another Golden Legacy and if Montana knew about her and did nothing to protect her, Reaper is going to lose his shit and that's not including what Solomon or Bullseye are going to do."

"How long do I have before Reaper finds out?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Right now, he's off the radar. Bullseye's still in charge."

"Any chance I can get you to sit on this for the time being?" I asked, then added, "I'm not asking you to squash it. I just need some time to figure out how to protect Delany and my daughter. At least give me that?"

"I'll sit on it until Reaper's back in the chair, but, Storm, you better fucking secure them fast, because Reaper won't think twice before declaring war. And if you think your club has the upper hand because of all of your club chapters, trust me, you don't. The Soulless Sinners won't win. Because even the Devil cowers in fear when Reaper unleashes his demon."

I nodded, saying nothing as Sypher gathered his laptop and left with his brother Ace, along with Matthew Law, trailing behind them, leaving me alone.

Sitting on the couch, nursing a glass of scotch, I sat in darkness watching the rain pelt the windows as my mind whirled with everything I'd just learned. No matter how many variables I came up with, it all ended with the club at war with the Golden Skulls. Too much bad blood had spilled. Tensions were already high between the two clubs. Especially after Montana and Maxim failed to keep their promise to Reaper. To make matters worse, when the board learned of another Stone betrayal, I wasn't sure Montana would be able to talk the brothers off the ledge.

The first step to rectify this situation was for George Stone to die.

The sooner that happened, the faster the club could do damage control.

Reaching for my phone, I dialed a familiar number.

I knew he would be awake.

He always was.

When the call connected, I simply said, "We need to talk."

An hour later, the elevator doors opened and in walked Mercy.

I said nothing as I let Mercy digest what Sypher told me. It was a hard pill to swallow, but as a brother affected by George Stone's malevolent need to control the narrative, I knew Mercy would understand my reservations.

"Who else knows?"

"Malice."

"Shit," Mercy cursed, leaning forward. "Then you have no choice but to call for a board meeting and lay everything on the table. Montana isn't going to like it, but he already knows his dad is on borrowed time. The only problem I foresee is your baby momma. Montana won't budge on that, brother. Not after the phone call he got the other day. Bullseye called in the club's marker. Montana agreed but told the acting president to never call again."

"Not taking my daughter away from her mother, Mercy."

"Then brand her and marry her. With the Soulless Sinner mark on her shoulder, Montana's hands will be tied. He won't be able to do shit because the board will be honor bound to protect her."

"And how in the hell do you expect me to accomplish that? I only slept with the woman once. I know nothing about her or vice versa, for that matter. The only thing we have in common is Harlow."

"Says the brother who has a new piece every month. Look, Storm, do it for your kid. I don't care, just seduce the piece, get her to agree, then brand her fast. Because the longer she is without protection, the more danger she is in."

Fuck. Mercy was right.

"What about Reaper?"

"Well," Mercy sighed, leaning back again. "That's where shit gets tricky. Two things could happen. The best outcome would be that Reaper accepts the marriage, thereby aligning the two clubs."

"Which will piss off Montana."

Mercy nodded.

"And the other?"

"Reaper refuses the marriage and demands reparations. He does that and then you have a problem, because there are only two things I see him demanding. Either a dissolution of the marriage. Which means Reaper will take Delany and your daughter back home with him. Or he demands blood. If he asks for blood, you will have no choice but to fight Reaper for Delany. If that's the case, our club rules are clear. The club will disavow you until the outcome of the fight. You win, you get to keep your seat on the board."

"What happens if I don't win?"

Mercy looked me dead in the eyes and said, "It's a fight to the death, Storm. If you don't win, that means Reaper killed you."

Hanging my head, I sighed.

"Look, Storm, this is a clusterfuck, no matter how you look at it. My advice is still the same. Brand and marry the woman. That way, Delany can stay with Harlow and the board will protect them both. With Reaper off doing fuck knows what, you've got time to seal her to you. Because when Reaper returns, and he will, you are going to need Delany's help to sway him."

"He's an animal, Mercy. That man doesn't give a fuck about anything or anyone but Remi, and you know it."

"I do, which is why you need to do this shit fast, because neither of us know when Reaper will return or if he will be in a forgiving mood when he does. Plan for the worst, brother, and hope for the best."

"That's the shittiest advice I've ever heard."

"And yet, it may be the only thing to keep you alive."