Page 89 of Silver Fox Daddies

I place a hand on my stomach. A baby is all I have left of them now, and it’ll be a constant reminder of what could have been. What if they have Cash’s freckles, or the same green eyes as Bishop? How am I supposed to look into my child’s eyes and not seethem? Their presence will remind me every day that this was all my fault. A slap in the face for keeping such vital information from them.

But why am I blaming myself?

This is Daddy’s fault. He’s the one ordering the attacks, wanting the Venom Vultures gone. What gets under my skin the most is the fact that he’s not even doing this to avenge Mom—he’s doing it because he wants territory. If he was doing this as revenge, he would have enacted it years ago. Granted, his club faced a quiet spell—they’ve been off the radar for quite a few years according to the bikers, but Daddy is a cutthroat leader who would’ve had no problem killing Diesel himself for what he did to Mom.

Something tells me these attacks have nothing to do with Mom.

Daddy just craves power.

He wants control.

He almost succeeded in exercising it over me, but thanks to the bikers, he didn’t. To be honest, for opening my eyes to the harsh realities of the world—I owe them my life. If I’d never set foot in their club in the first place, chances are I never would’ve realized Daddy’s true colors. I’d be living the life he planned out for me, staying out of trouble, prioritizing work over enjoyment. I’d be a slave to him.

Maybe it’s time for me to take a page out of Gigi’s book and do some digging of my own. Now that I know Daddy’s true colors, I might be able to find something that will give the Venom Vultures an advantage.

I stiffen in my chair. It’s risky. If I find anything and tell the Venom Vultures, it could result in my father’s death. I already lost one parent. Do I wanna lose another?

I recline in my chair, exhaling all of the tension out of my chest. Either way, I lose something. The question is—which loss is greater?

I take out my phone and give Daddy a call, heart thumping out of my chest. Am I really planning to double-cross a motorcycle club leader? They’re leaders for a reason—always one step ahead. Always waiting for signs of trouble.

My stomach turns. Things could go sour.

If he finds out what I’m doing, I’ll be burnt toast.

That’sifhe hasn’t already figured out what I know.

“Melissa?” He picks up after a few rings.

“Are you around?”

“I’m in the city working at the moment. Why?”

Translation—out in the desert figuring out an action plan to kill my baby-daddies.

I clear my throat, forcing nonchalance into my voice. For this to work, I have to convince myself to play the blinded daughter act. The one I’ve played for nineteen fucking years without even knowing.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to get dinner this evening? I’m struggling with revision at the moment, I don’t know why. I’m wondering if you can lend me a hand and give me some advice over dinner so I can get back into the swing of things again.”

There’s a pause.

One too long for my liking.

“Hello? Daddy?”

“Have you been drinking again?”

“No.”

Another pause.

Of course he knows that. How did he know I was drinking the last time if it wasn’t Natasha he spoke to?

Maybe he knows more than he lets on.

No. If he knew I was involved with three of his rivals, carrying one of their babies, he’d be cutting the fetus out of me this very second. Cash, Diesel, and Bishop would already be dead if he knew the truth.

I relax my shoulders to hush the anxious thoughts.

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