Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Turmoil

My phone buzzes with a text message, interrupting my workout at the gym.

I grab a towel and wipe the sweat from my face before checking the screen.

It's from my father.

Great, just what I needed.

Abram, we need to talk. Let's have dinner tonight, my treat. There are dire matters to discuss.

I snort and toss the phone aside, going back to my weightlifting.

But the phone buzzes again a minute later.

I know we have our differences, but you're still my son. One dinner, that's all I ask of you.

Sighing, I pick up the phone and stare at the message.

My father and I have been at odds for years, ever since I chose the Reapers Rejects MC over the posh Hollywood life he wanted for me.

He's never understood or approved of my choices.

But as much as we argue, he's still my dad.

And maybe I do owe him a chance to talk, even if it likely won't change anything between us.

I text back a short reply.

Fine. I'll be at Mastro's tonight. 8pm.

Setting my phone aside, I try to refocus on my workout and not overthink what drama tonight's dinner may bring.

My life is with the club now, and that's not something I'm willing to give up, no matter how much my father disapproves.

But still, a tiny part of me can't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, tonight could be a turning point for us.

A chance to gain some understanding, even if we'll never see eye to eye.

Only one way to find out.

I'll hear him out tonight and see what he has to say.

Beyond that, I can't make any promises.

The day flies by and before I know it, I'm sitting in the parking lot of Mastro's.

Getting out of the Mustang, I stride into the upscale steakhouse oozing old-world elegance with its dark wood, white tablecloths, and soft lighting.

My eyes scan the room until they land on my father, already seated at a table, impeccably dressed in his designer suit.

Squaring my shoulders, I make my way over.

"Abram," he greets me, rising to shake my hand. "Glad you could make it."

His smile is strained, his eyes appraising my own attire—dark jeans, boots, and a black button-down.

A far cry from his polished appearance.

"Yeah," I reply coolly, taking my seat. "I'm here. So talk."

He sighs as the waiter pours us each a glass of rich Cabernet. "I just want what's best for you, son. I built an empire so you and your sisters would never want for anything. And yet you choose to throw it all away for what—playing biker with a bunch of lowlifes?"

My jaw clenches. "The Reapers Rejects are my brothers and sisters. They're family to me in a way you never were, always jetting off to your next project. You don't get to judge my life."

"I'm trying to give you the world!" he hisses. "Opportunities most people only dream of. With your looks and my connections, you could be the next great action star. But instead, you'd rather waste your potential in some nowhere desert clubhouse."

Anger flares in my gut.

He still doesn't get it, and probably never will.

To him, my life is some rebellion, a phase to outgrow.

He can't fathom that this is my choice, my calling.

I lean forward, meeting his gaze. "I'm building something real with the club. Bonds of loyalty and brotherhood you couldn't begin to understand. It's not something I'm going to walk away from. Not for you, not for anyone."

"You're ruining your life over some misguided sense of machismo," he scoffs. "I thought I raised you to be smarter than this."

"You barely raised me at all," I snap. "But I learned to make my own way, to find the people who have my back no matter what. That's what the MC is to me."

He shakes his head in frustration. "Wasting your life on the streets, risking prison or an early grave. For what? You could have so much more, Abram. The world at your fingertips."

I laugh bitterly. "Your world, you mean. One where appearance is everything and family is just for show. I've found something real, something that matters. I won't give that up."

He shakes his head, "You have no idea how foolish you're being. One day, you will regret the choices you've made."

I push back from the table abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. "Fuck you," I spit out, the words tasting like venom on my tongue. "I'm done trying to justify my life to you. You'll never understand."

Without waiting for his response, I turn and stride out of the restaurant, ignoring the stares of the other diners.

The cool night air hits my face as I exit, but it does little to calm the rage simmering beneath my skin.

I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts, my thumb hovering over Seraphina's name.

I need a distraction, something to take my mind off the disaster of a dinner.

Before I can second-guess myself, I hit the call button.

She picks up on the second ring. "Abe," she purrs, her accented voice sending a shiver down my spine. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I need to see you," I say, my voice rough with emotion. "Can I come over?"

"Of course, darling. My door is always open for you."

I end the call and stride toward the Mustang, my keys already in hand.

The roar of the engine as I rev it to life is a comforting sound, the vibration beneath me a familiar sensation.

The ride to Seraphina's penthouse is a blur, the city lights streaking past me as I weave through traffic.

My mind is still reeling from the confrontation with my father, his words echoing in my head.

I pull up to the gate of her building, punching in the code she gave me.

The gate swings open and I ride through, pulling into an empty spot near the entrance.

I take the elevator up to her floor, my heart pounding in anticipation.

When the doors slide open, she's waiting for me, leaning against the doorframe with a seductive smile.

"Hello, handsome," she murmurs, her eyes raking over me appreciatively. "Rough night?"

I step forward, my hands finding her waist as I pull her against me. "Nothing a little distraction can't fix," I reply, my lips finding hers in a searing kiss.

She melts into me, her arms winding around my neck as she deepens the kiss.

I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her curves pressed against me.

When we finally break apart, both of us breathing heavily, she takes my hand and leads me inside. "Then let me take your mind off things," she says with a wicked grin, pulling me toward the living room.

I follow willingly, eager to lose myself in her, to forget the world outside these walls.

Seraphina points to her couch and disappears into the kitchen. "You sit. I'll be back in a moment."

I settle onto her leather couch, and soon enough she's coming back in with tumblers of whiskey in hand.

She pops a squat next to me and hands me one of the glasses.

The amber liquid burns pleasantly as it slides down my throat.

Seraphina's slate gray eyes study me intently. "So, what happened tonight?"

I let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through my hair. "I saw my father and it was exhausting. Same old bullshit. He can't accept my choices, constantly riding my ass about wasted potential."

She nods, understanding etched on her face. "Family can be complicated. Trust me, I get it."

There's a bitterness in her tone that catches my attention.

I tilt my head, silently prompting her to continue.

She takes a long sip of her drink before speaking. "My father was murdered. By a biker club."

Her eyes flash with a mixture of grief and rage.

I keep my expression neutral, feigning surprise. "Shit, Sera. I'm so sorry."

She shakes her head. "It was years ago. But my mother... she's made it her mission to avenge him. To take down the club responsible."

I lean forward, my elbows resting on my knees. "Sounds like she really loved him."

Seraphina's lips curve into a humorless smile. "Yeah, she did. We're going to take down that club."

I arch a brow, "How so?"

She lets out a breath, "Well, money talks. We've invested heavily in getting brothels up and running around the Vegas area. The club has a brothel and things haven't been going so great for them as of late."

She takes another sip, her gaze distant. "They were trying to expand into other business ventures, too. Applying for permits to start a chain of car washes. But my mother put a stop to that real quick."

I whistle lowly. "Sounds like she's not one to be messed with."

"No, she's not," Seraphina agrees, a hint of pride in her voice. "She won't rest until they pay for what they did to my father."

I nod, my mind racing with this new information.

I keep my face impassive, but inside, I'm reeling.

The club needs to know about this, and fast.

But for now, I push those thoughts aside, focusing on the beautiful woman in front of me.

I reach out, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

My lips capture hers in a searing kiss, the intensity building between us like a raging inferno.

Seraphina melts into me, her arms twining around my neck as she presses herself against my hardening body.

I sweep her up into my arms, carrying her to the bedroom without breaking our heated embrace.

Clothes are quickly shed, our hands eager to explore newly bared skin.

I lay her down on the plush bed, my eyes drinking in the sight of her—all smooth, tawny skin and pure desire.

I rasp, my voice rough with need. "Fuck, Sera. You're so goddamn beautiful,"

She reaches for me, pulling me down on top of her. "Show me, Abe. Make me forget everything but this, right here, right now."

And I do.

I worship every inch of her body with my hands and mouth, drawing keening cries of pleasure from her lips.

She writhes beneath me, her nails scoring down my back as I drive into her with deep, powerful strokes.

Her body arches against mine, her moans turning into breathless gasps as our rhythm escalates.

Each thrust is met with a groan that vibrates through my chest, grounding me in the moment.

Her eyes lock onto mine, a silent plea for more.

For everything.

I give it to her.

Our bodies move in perfect synchronization, our heartbeats becoming one pounding rhythm.

It's an intoxicating dance of passion and desperation, of need and desire.

The world outside falls away until there is only us—two bodies entwined in the most intimate dance imaginable.

The shadows play across our skin, the moonlight seeping through the window casting an ethereal glow on us.

Her fingers dig into my shoulders as she cries out, her body shaking as an orgasm takes over her.

The sight of her surrender pushes me off the edge, my own release claiming me with a raw intensity that leaves me breathless.

As the haze of pleasure fades, I collapse beside her.

In the afterglow, I gather Seraphina close, savoring the feel of her nestled against me.

But even as contentment washes over me, I can't shake the unease prickling at the back of my mind.

The secrets swirling between us loom like a brewing storm, threatening to sweep away this fragile connection we've forged.

I know I'm playing with fire, but as I gaze down at Seraphina's sleeping form, I realize I'm already too ensnared to pull back now.

Come what may, I'm deep in this—with her, the club, all of it—until the bitter end.