“I wanted a better life for you. It’s unsafe being with him. He’s a biker… a thug… The club will always be his priority, and you will come second to that. I’m proving my point, causing disruption.”
My eyes narrow at the arrogance in his voice.
“I’ve got people watching the clubhouse. If the MC tries to get that shipment through, I’ll have people there to make that impossible, and every illegal fight they hold, I’ll make sure cops are there for that too. You’ll see… Viper will choose the club and end it with you.”
I scowl. If anything, Viper has shown me he’s willing to stand up to my dad, despite putting the club at risk. I keep it to myself, though my irritation festers.
“You can do better! Don’t waste your life with a man in an MC.”
“It’s my decision!” We’re both shocked at my outburst, but I can’t keep holding everything in. It’s not the MC’s fault.
He pauses, then glares daggers. “Your little stunt in Vegas is an embarrassment to your family.”
I recoil and gasp. He knows exactly where to stab the knife and make me bleed. I’ve tried to be successful and carve out my own career. I’ve worked so hard to prove to him I can run a successful business, and I make one choice he doesn’t agree with, and it makes mean embarrassment?
“Are you giving up your business for him too?”
Horror widens my eyes. I would never be a woman who gives up her career for a man.Is that what I’m doing right now?
“No,” I stammer as my heartbeat thumps in my ears. “I’m managing my business from the clubhouse, via phone calls and emails.” I glance at his phone. “Just like you’re probably doing.”
The disbelief in his eyes irks me. I look away as heat rises through me.
“And if your business needs you in person?”
My chin rises. “I trust my employees—that’s why I pay them the wages I do. But while I’m here, if my employees needed me in person, I’d go back to New York to see them.”
I fold my arms across my chest, but my eyes water. I’m a grown-ass woman. I wish I didn’t yearn for my dad’s approval. I wanted to make my family proud and pave a way for myself. Just coming here and talking to him has made me doubt myself and stirred up inner turmoil about my priorities.
The thought of leaving Viper and my family and going back to New York makes me feel queasy. “I thought you’d be happy I’m back in Crown Village,” I say, my voice choked with emotion.
“Of course I am.” A sliver of lightness fills me until he says, “But not if you’re making irresponsible and reckless decisions.”
My body sags. I can’t talk about this any longer. “I’m organizing a donation to Zara’s charity, Misty’s Safe Haven. Do you want to contribute to it as well?”
He inches back, a thoughtful look on his face. “Yes, it will be good publicity.”
“I’m donating anonymously,” I deadpan.
He frowns. “Why would you do that?”
My eyes drift around his face. I can understand my brother Alec, but how did Lawson, Harrison, and I come from him? I guess we went to private schools and then, when we came home, were raised by nannies. My father sees everything through a business lens. Lawson, Harrison, and I only want to help Zara support the charity. We don’t need a pat on the back or to impress anyone.
“If you’re donating publicly, you should talk to Zara. I’ll speak to my brothers about their contributions. I’m going to get going.” I add, “Please leave the MC alone.” But I know he won’t listen to me—he’ll do what he wants.
I turn my back and dash out the door and into the limousine. “To the clubhouse,” I tell the chauffeur. My muscles are screaming with tension. I blankly stare out the window, knowing I need to find a way to make Dad back off and allow me and Viper to decide what we want on our own, without his influence. To pull myself out of my funk, I call my brothers, who agree to make contributions to the charity.
Once I arrive at the clubhouse, I get out and go inside to see all the women in the kitchen. I take a seat on a stool at the kitchen island, across from Elena and Ava, who are peeling vegetables.
“Do you need any help?”
Ava smiles. “That’s okay. With all of us here, we’ll be finished soon.”
I watch as she pulls a yam out of the container, and the veins, discolored skin, and shape make me laugh. When the women turn to me, I point to the yam in Ava’s hands. “It looks like a dick.”
Everyone’s eyes lock onto the yam. Ava drops it on the table, making me laugh again.
“I got a dick pic, and no word of a lie—it resembled a yam, just like that one.”
