Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Turmoil

Present Day…

The clubhouse is bumping tonight, thumping with bass and whoops of celebration.

Everyone seems to be decked out in green like shamrocks come to life.

I spot Danica across the room in a skintight emerald dress and my lips curve into a grin.

Hawk is going to lose his shit when he sees her.

I saunter over, my eyes dragging up her curves. "Looking spicy as hell tonight, darlin'. You aiming to break some hearts?"

She rolls her eyes, dark lashes fluttering. "You'll never learn, Turmoil. I'm not interested." Her words are dismissive but there's a playful glint in her eyes.

I lean in, my voice a low rumble. "Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. We both know you want me."

"In your dreams," she scoffs, but a smile tugs at her red lips.

I chuckle, holding her stare a beat longer before turning on my heel and heading for the bar.

I need a fucking drink.

As I wait for my whiskey, long nails trail across the bartop and I glance over to see Sassy eyeing me like I'm dinner.

She purrs, batting her lashes. "I'd be more than happy to spend some time with you tonight, baby,"

I lick my lips, considering it.

She's hot as fuck, no doubt, but the bitch has a problem staying in her lane.

For fuck's sake, she's a clubwhore who runs around the club like she's an ol' lady.

"Don't forget this. You're at the bottom of the totem pole, Sassy. Keep messing with shit and you're gonna find yourself out on your ass," I warn, my tone bored with her shenanigans.

She presses closer, her tits grazing my arm. "Let's go to your room. I'll make it worth your while and show you just how apologetic I can be."

A harsh laugh rips from my throat. "Even though I'm a prospect, I know I can do better than you." I down my drink and head for the door, shaking my head.

Fucking clubwhores, man.

I gun my Harley down the dark road toward Bad Bunnies, the club's brothel, anticipation thrumming in my veins.

I need to blow off some steam.

Hopping off my bike, I stride up and knock on the door.

It swings open a moment later.

"Well hello there, handsome," Cirque greets with a flirty smile that has my cock stirring to life. "I didn't expect to see you tonight."

My eyes roam over her hungrily, taking in the black lace barely covering her pale skin, the wicked darkness rimming her eyes. "Hey darlin'. Busy tonight?" I drawl, my voice rough with want.

She steps back, crooking a finger at me. "For you? Never. Come on in."

I follow her swaying hips down the hall, my pulse jumping under my skin, need burning through me.

Yeah, this is exactly what I need tonight.

Cirque leads me into her dimly lit bedroom, the air thick with sensual promise.

She turns to face me, red hair tumbling over her shoulders, green eyes glinting with mischief.

"What can I do for you tonight, Turmoil?" she purrs, trailing a black-tipped finger down my chest. "Tell me what you need."

I cup her jaw, tilting her face up to mine. "I want to see these pretty lips wrapped around my cock."

She licks her lips slowly. "Mmm, I'd love to taste you." Sinking gracefully to her knees, she unbuckles my belt with deft fingers.

I groan as she takes me into the wet heat of her mouth, working me with mind-numbing skill.

As amazing as her mouth feels, I need more.

Fisting a hand in her hair, I pull her off and yank her up against me.

She gasps as I claim her mouth in a brutal kiss, my other hand groping her breast roughly.

Breaking away, I spin her around and shove her face-first against the wall.

She moans and arches back into me.

I rip her skimpy panties aside and drive into her, setting a punishing rhythm.

There's no tenderness, just a primal need to lose myself in her body.

As I pound into her over and over, chasing my release, my scattered thoughts drift back to the undercover job Jolt and I took on.

This is my chance to show the club what I'm really made of, that I have value beyond just being Anatoly Morozov's son.

My family may not get the MC life, but at least they respect my choices.

This is who I am, where I belong.

And I'm going to prove myself to my brothers if it's the last thing I do.

With a few more savage thrusts, I bury myself deep and let go, emptying myself inside Cirque with a guttural groan.

Damn, I needed that.

I pull out and readjust my jeans before tossing some cash on the dresser. "Thanks darlin'," I say with a wink. "That was fun."

She stretches languidly, a satisfied smile on her face. "Anytime, handsome. You know where to find me."

Striding out of the brothel, I swing a leg over my bike and head back to the clubhouse, my mind clearer and body loose.

Time to get my head in the game.

This is the perfect opportunity for me to prove myself.

The clubhouse is buzzing with activity as I pull up, the party getting wilder by the moment.

Bikers come and go, revving their engines, and the smell of exhaust hangs thick in the air.

It feels more like home than any penthouse my old man's ever bought.

I spot Danica, Raven's little sister, standing by the bike she just bought.

She's wrenching on something, her jean-clad ass looking damn fine in the process.

I can't resist riling her up a bit. Hell, I haven't gotten my fill yet today.

"Hey there, Danica," I drawl as I swagger over, "need some help with that?"

She looks over her shoulder, her dark eyes narrowing. "If I needed your help, I would have asked you."

I grin, waggling my eyebrows. "Are you sure about that? I'm a master with my tools."

She rolls her eyes but her lips twitch. "You'll never learn, will you? I'm not interested."

"Oh, I don't know about that," I retort, leaning in, "You can say no all you want, but I know you like the cat and mouse game a little too much."

Her cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink and I know I've hit a nerve .

She huffs and goes back to work on her bike. "Scram Turmoil, before I stick my brother-in-law on your ass."

"I'll go anywhere you want me to, sugar." I wink at her before sauntering off, knowing I've left my mark.

As I walk away, I think about the undercover mission and the danger it entails.

It's gonna suck being away from the club and especially from my playful banter with Danica, but I know it's for the greater good.

I'm gonna prove myself to the Reapers Rejects and show everyone—especially my dad—that I'm made of more than just famous bloodlines.

Heading back inside, Shiver is getting wild with a couple of the clubwhores.

He's the second oldest of the prospects, but that doesn't stop him. He's a damn good time.

"Oi, Turmoil!" Shiver calls out, grinning like a madman even as he's sloppily exchanging kisses with two women. "Come and join us! The more the merrier!"

I shake my head at his offer, already sated from Cirque. "Maybe next time," I reply, making my way toward the bar instead.

As I lean against the counter, nursing another drink, Spark walks over.

"Rough day?" He asks, clapping a hand on my shoulder. Although his gaze is calm and collected, I can detect an underlying hint of concern.

"Nah, all is good brother," I mutter, swallowing another mouthful of whiskey.

The liquid warmth spreads through my body, momentarily distracting me from the task at hand.

He raises an eyebrow at that but says nothing else. Instead, he asks Doc for a beer for himself and motions for me to follow him outside.

We settle ourselves onto one of the lounge chairs.

The cool night air is a stark contrast to the heat inside, and I can't help but let out a sigh of relief.

Spark turns, his expression serious beneath the glow of the moonlight. "You sure you're ready for this? Going undercover isn't a walk in the park, especially with this situation. The Bernards have it out for the club."

I take another swig from my bottle before answering. "Yeah, man. I got this. Hell, I trained my whole life to be in the midst of luxury. I'm just gonna be myself—literally. Minus the club aspects. Damon said he wants me and Jolt to have a ‘normal' kinda life, so I'm gonna do that."

He nods, his gaze drifting away into the darkness. "Remember, you're not just doing this to prove yourself to the club, Turmoil. The whole club's counting on you both."

"I know," I reply, my words coming out in a whisper against the hum of the music pumping from inside the club. "I'm not gonna let anyone down, and neither is Jolt."

Spark sighs heavily. "Just be careful, man. I've heard stories of what happened up in Billings. Bama was shot. Stiletto was kidnapped. We've been lucky not having too much heat on us, but now shit is changin'."

I nod, knowing all too well. "I know, but this is what we've been preparing for."

I finish my drink and stand, patting Spark on the shoulder. "I'm going to go pack. Damon said me and Jolt go to the new place tomorrow."

He nods again, taking a long pull from his beer as he looks out over the clubhouse grounds. "Stay safe, Turmoil."

"I always do," I reply, turning back toward the mobile home Spark and I share.

Once inside the quiet of my room, I start packing.

I grab some clothes, my basic necessities, and a few keepsakes from home: a silver cross necklace that belonged to my grandmother and a picture of my family.

As I look at the picture, I can't help but sigh.

How could the blood we share divide us?

Isn't it supposed to unite us?