Page 39 of Victorious: Part I

Alpha stands motionless, a single tear tracking down his weathered face into his beard. Wordlessly, he detaches from me, stepping forward. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small object wrapped in a bloodied cloth. I wonder what the hell he’s doing, his hands trembling as he unwraps it to reveal Livvy’s severed finger, her wedding ring still in place.

I let out a small gasp as he gently and respectfully places it on her chest in front of Poppy. Her eyes widen in shock as she glances down at her mother’s severed finger. Quickly, I move over behind her in case it’s too much for her, but she keeps her focus on her father, whose stature is straightening with purpose with every passing second.

Alpha clears his throat, shifting his gaze to the two of us standing together. “The club’s going to war,” he states sternly, his voice a dangerous growl that seems to rise from the depths of his soul. “And this time, I’m not leavinganyonebehind to come back at us.” He turns to leave, pausing only long enough to place a hand on my shoulder. “Stay with Poppy,” he murmurs. “I need, I just need a fucking minute.”

As he walks out, his back rigid with barely contained fury, my body begins to shake. I’ve always been the strong one, the one holding everything together for Alpha. But now? Now, he’s the one standing tall, his purpose burning through the wreckage of everything we’ve endured. It’s not just anger in him—it’s resolve, sharpened and honed. And for the first time, I don’t feel like I have to hold him up. He’s found his fight, and God help the poor bastard who stands in his way because when he’s finished, there won’t be a throne left unshaken, a rival left breathing, or a soul alive who doesn’t know his name.

And if that happens, then Lord help Javier Rojas!

Drawing in a deep, centering breath, I move in behind Poppy, who’s still sitting by her mother’s bed, grieving with the pure, unfiltered agony of a child losing her parent, and guilt crashes over me in waves.

I should have saved Livvy.

I should have been faster. Smarter.

And Nighthawk? I left her behind to face Javier’s wrath alone.

How many more people will I fail before this is over?

But beneath the guilt, something else burns—a fierce, uncompromising resolve.

I made a promise to Livvy, and I intend to keep it.

This club, this family, will grieve—but they willnotfall.

Alpha is right.

We are going to war.

And The Rojas Cartel is about to learn what happens when you draw first blood against LA Defiance.

Chapter Eleven

MONTANA

The Next Morning

It’s a sobering feeling.

One second, you’re soaring—untouchable, invincible. Celebrating an immense victory over the Governor of California, the club at an all-time high, and then, reality slams into you without mercy, ripping the ground from beneath your damn feet.

No warning.

No hesitation.

Just a cold, ruthless reminder that joy is fleeting, and the light shining within the people you love can be extinguished before you even have the chance to bask in their glow.

One last time.

Death comes for us all, one way or another, especially in environments and situations we, as brothers, put ourselves in. But what we plan for, what we always strive to keep the people we love safe from, doesn’t always eventuate.

As I sit in the main room of the clubhouse, the morning after, the sun slowly rising, sending a harmonious glow through the Los Angeles clubroom, I can’t help but think there isnothingharmonious about this particular morning.

No matter how stunning the view is.

Continuing to stare out the window, the hues of pink, amber, and teal shimmer through the summer sky, and the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen wafts through the air. Quiet, soft whispers flow through the clubhouse as the few people who are awake at the moment chat among themselves.

But I sit.

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