Page 21 of Hellfire's Mercy

"I'm trying to work here."

"Work can wait," he growls, spinning my chair around to face him. His amber eyes are dark with desire, and I see that familiar possessive glint that never fails to make me weak. "Your scary biker needs attention."

His hands slide under my thighs, lifting me effortlessly. I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me to the bed – our bed now, I suppose. Every night spent here has been a reminder of how far I've come from that terrified journalist hiding behind a dumpster, desperate for a story.

I found my story, all right – just not the one I was expecting. Instead of exposing a criminal motorcycle club, I fell in love with its president. Instead of fearing the dangerous world of bikers, I found a family.

And somehow, being wrapped in the arms of a man who most people run from but who holds me like I'm precious makes it even better.

"I love you," I whisper against his neck.

He stills for a moment, then pulls back to look at me.

Those fierce eyes soften just slightly.

"Mine," he growls, and coming from him, that means the same thing.

Epilogue – Hellfire

A year later

The evening sun casts long shadows as I park my bike outside our Clubhouse. Been a long day riding patrol with Butcher, making sure our territory stays clean after finally pushing the Outlaws out of town.

The war wasn't easy—we took heavy hits, but in the end, justice prevailed. It took almost a year, but Chloe's recent articles sparked an FBI investigation that brought the Outlaws down and their shady businesses.

All I want now is a hot shower, a warm meal, and my wife in my arms.

Wife. Even after six months, the word still feels strange but right on my tongue. The wedding was small – just the club and her mother who finally accepted her daughter marrying a biker.

Chloe wore a simple white dress that stopped my heart, and I wore a suit for the first time since leaving the military. The guys still tease me about how I couldn't take my eyes off her all day.

Living with her has changed the club in ways I never expected. She still corrects everyone's grammar during meetings and even organizes charity rides for the community.

Angel adores her – they're thick as thieves now, especially since I finally gave Ruthless my blessing to date my daughter. Took a lot of convincing from Chloe for that one.

But something's off tonight. The bar's too quiet – no music, no voices, no sounds of pool being played. My hand instinctively moves to my gun as I signal Butcher.

"Easy, boss," he says with a suspicious grin. "Just go in."

I raise an eyebrow at him. In our world, surprises usually mean trouble. But Butcher just shakes his head, still grinning like an idiot.

The past week flashes through my mind – Chloe being distant, running to the bathroom every morning, Angel being more secretive than usual. My journalist has been acting strange, but every time I ask, she just kisses me and changes the subject.

"What are they planning?" I growl at Butcher.

He holds up his hands.

"You know I can't cross your old lady, boss. She's scarier than you when she's mad."

True enough. My wife might be half my size, but she has a steel spine and a tongue sharp enough to put any biker in his place.

I push open the door, combat-ready despite Butcher's assurance, and—

"SURPRISE!"

The whole club erupts from various hiding spots, throwing colorful paper and confetti. A banner hangs across the bar: "CONGRATULATIONS DADDY!"

Daddy?

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