EMILIA POV

The ride to Desert Ridge took six hours, and every mile felt like traveling backward through time.

I'd forgotten what it felt like to be pressed against Axel's back, my arms wrapped around his waist, feeling every breath he took. The motorcycle thrummed between my thighs, powerful and dangerous, just like the man controlling it.

We stopped twice for gas and food, barely speaking except for necessity. But I caught him watching me when he thought I wasn't looking, his green eyes unreadable behind dark sunglasses.

"You still eat like a bird," Axel observed at our second stop, nodding toward my half, finished sandwich.

"You still eat like you're feeding an army," I shot back, watching him demolish a burger and fries.

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Some things don't change."

But everything had changed. The easy familiarity we'd once shared was gone, replaced by tension thick. Every accidental touch sent sparks through me, but Axel remained frustratingly controlled.

As we got closer to Desert Ridge, the landscape became more familiar. Desert stretched endlessly on both sides of the highway, broken by rock formations and scrub brush. Mountains rose in the distance, purple, blue against the cloudless sky.

Home. The word hit me with unexpected force. I'd spent years telling myself I didn't miss this place, but seeing it again stirred something deep in my chest.

"Still beautiful," I murmured, forgetting Axel could hear me over the engine noise.

His hand briefly covered mine where it rested on his thigh. "Yeah. It is."

I wasn't sure he was talking about the landscape.

We rolled into Desert Ridge as the sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. The town looked smaller than I remembered, more run, down. Boarded, up businesses lined Main Street, and the few people walking the sidewalks looked tired and worn.

But the Iron Serpents clubhouse looked exactly the same.

Axel pulled into the parking lot, and I climbed off the bike on unsteady legs. Hours on a motorcycle had left me stiff and sore, but that wasn't why my hands were shaking.

The clubhouse squatted like a concrete fortress, all black walls and barred windows. Motorcycles lined the front, gleaming in the fading light. Music and laughter drifted from inside, along with the smell of cigarettes and beer.

"Marco's waiting," Axel said, removing his helmet.

I pulled off my own helmet, finger, combing my windblown hair. "How do I look?"

Axel studied my face for a long moment. "Like Vincent Romano's daughter."

I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not.

The front door opened, and Marco stepped out. My brother looked older with new lines around his eyes and gray threading through his dark hair. The weight of leadership sat heavy on his shoulders.

"Em." Marco's face softened as he approached. "Christ, look at you."

He pulled me into a crushing hug, and for the first time since getting the call, I let myself cry. Marco smelled like home, and I clung to him like a lifeline.

"I'm so sorry," I sobbed into his shoulder. "I should have been here. I should have called more, visited more."

"Hey." Marco pulled back, gripping my shoulders. "None of that matters. You're here now, and that's what matters."

I wiped my eyes, aware that half the clubhouse was probably watching through the windows. "How are you holding up?"

"One day at a time," Marco said honestly. "Come on. Let's get you inside. Mama C's been cooking all day."

The clubhouse interior hit me like a punch to the gut. Everything was exactly as I'd left it: the scarred wooden bar, the pool tables, the Iron Serpents banners hanging from the rafters. Even the smell was the same: cigarettes and beer.

But it was quieter than usual. Conversations stopped as I walked in, and I felt the weight of a dozen pairs of eyes.

"Everyone, you remember Em," Marco announced to the room. "Vincent's daughter."

A chorus of greetings rose from the assembled bikers, most of whom I recognized despite the years. They looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and respect. I was Marco's sister, Vincent's daughter, MC royalty whether I wanted to be or not.

"Emmy!" Carmen emerged from behind the bar, all soft curves and maternal warmth. Mama C had been the clubhouse's unofficial mother figure for as long as I could remember, and seeing her face crumple with grief made my eyes fill again.

"Mama C." I hugged her tightly, breathing in her familiar scent of vanilla and cigarettes. "I'm so sorry."

"Your papa, he was so proud of you," Carmen said, stroking my hair. "Always bragging about his smart daughter in the big city."

The guilt hit me. "I should have called him more."

"He understood, mija," Carmen said gently. "He knew you needed to find your own way."

"But I never got to" I started.

"He knew you loved him," Carmen interrupted firmly. "That's what mattered."

Marco appeared at my elbow. "Are you hungry? Carmen made your favorite."

My stomach growled in response. I hadn't eaten a real meal since yesterday, and the stress was catching up with me.

Carmen bustled me to a corner table and returned with a plate piled high with enchiladas, rice, and beans. Comfort food that tasted exactly like childhood.

"Eat," Carmen ordered. "You're too skinny."

I was halfway through my plate when the front door opened again. A young man walked in, tall and lean with sandy hair and an easy smile. He was handsome in a clean, cut way, wearing jeans and a Iron Serpents t, shirt that showed off muscled arms.

"That's Jax," Marco said, following my gaze. "New prospect. He is eager to prove himself."

As if he'd heard his name, Jax looked over and caught sight of me. His smile widened as he approached our table.

"You must be Em," Jax said, extending his hand. "I'm Jax Martinez. Your brother's told me a lot about you."

"All good things, I hope," I said, shaking his hand.

"Definitely." Jax's grip lingered a moment longer than necessary. "I'm real sorry about your dad. He was a good man."

"Thank you." I appreciated that he didn't offer empty platitudes about Vincent being "in a better place" or other meaningless comfort.

"Maybe later you'd like to take a ride?" Jax suggested. "I could show you what's changed around town while you were gone."

Marco's face darkened slightly. "Jax"

"I'd like that," I said, surprising myself.

Jax was safe. Normal, by MC standards. The kind of man I should be attracted to, not the dangerous ghost from my past who was currently glowering at us from across the room.

"Great." Jax grinned. "How about tomorrow afternoon?"

"It's a date," I agreed.

The words had barely left my mouth when a beer bottle exploded against the wall behind Jax's head.

Everyone in the clubhouse went silent. Jax spun around, and I followed his gaze to see Axel standing by the bar, his face a mask of controlled rage.

"Is there a problem, Ghost?" Marco asked quietly, using Axel's road name.

"No problem," Axel said, his voice deadly calm. "Just clumsy."

But his eyes were locked on Jax with unmistakable threat.

Jax, to his credit, didn't back down. "Are you sure about that?"

Axel moved away from the bar. "Real sure."

The tension in the room ratcheted up several notches. Other club members began shifting, hands moving toward weapons.

"Enough," Marco said sharply. "Both of you stand down."

Axel looked at Marco for a long moment, then at me. Something hot and possessive flared in his eyes before he turned and walked out the back door.

"What the hell was that about?" Jax muttered.

I stood up abruptly. "I need some air."

I followed the path Axel had taken, through the back door and into the small courtyard behind the clubhouse. He was standing in the shadows, smoking a cigarette with sharp, angry movements.

"What is wrong with you?" I demanded.

Axel took a long drag of his cigarette. "Nothing."

"You just threw a bottle at an innocent man's head."

"Missed on purpose," Axel said calmly.

"That's not the point." I moved closer, anger overriding my common sense. "You can't just"

"Can't just what?" Axel flicked his cigarette away and turned to face me fully. "Watch you flirt with some pretty boy prospect?"

"I wasn't flirting," I protested, even though I had been.

Axel stepped closer, backing me against the brick wall. "You said it was a date."

"So what if it was?" I lifted my chin defiantly. "It's been six years, Axel. Six years since you walked away without a word. I'm not sixteen anymore, and I'm not yours."

Something dark and dangerous flashed in Axel's eyes. "You sure about that, princess?"

His hands braced against the wall on either side of my head, caging me in. The scent of leather and cigarettes and something uniquely him surrounded me, making my head spin.

"Yes," I whispered, but it sounded like a lie even to my own ears.

"Prove it," Axel said softly.

His face was inches from mine, his body radiating heat and barely contained violence. One of his hands moved to cup my cheek, thumb tracing my lower lip with devastating gentleness.

"Axel," I breathed.

"Tell me you don't feel anything," he murmured. "Tell me six years erased what was between us."

EMILIA POV

I opened my mouth to do exactly that, but the lie wouldn't come. Instead, I found myself leaning into his touch, my body betraying every rational thought in my head.

"That's what I thought," Axel said with satisfaction.

And then he was kissing me.

years of careful control shattered in an instant. His mouth was hot and demanding, claiming mine with a desperation that matched my own. I kissed him back helplessly, my hands fisting in his leather jacket, all my good intentions crumbling to dust.

This was what I'd been running from. This consuming fire that burned away everything else, leaving only need and want and the terrible knowledge that no other man would ever affect me like this.

Axel's hands tangled in my hair, angling my head for deeper access. I could taste the cigarette on his tongue, feel the barely leashed violence in his touch. He was dangerous and wrong for me in every way that mattered.

And I wanted him with a desperation that scared me.

The sound of the back door opening broke us apart. We sprang away from each other like guilty teenagers as Marco stepped outside.

"Em?" Marco's voice was sharp with suspicion. "Is Everything okay out here?"

"Fine," I managed, my voice barely steady. "Just getting some air."

Marco's gaze moved between us, taking in my flushed face and swollen lips, Axel's defensive posture. Understanding dawned in his eyes, followed quickly by fury.

"Inside. Now," Marco ordered. "Both of you."

I started toward the door, but Axel caught my wrist. The contact sent electricity shooting up my arm.

"This isn't over," he said quietly, for my ears only.

"It never started," I whispered back.

But we both knew that was a lie.

As I walked back into the clubhouse, I could feel the weight of several gazes. Jax was watching me with concern, Carmen with knowing sympathy, and several other club members with various degrees of interest and speculation.

I'd been back in Desert Ridge for exactly three hours, and my carefully constructed new life was already falling apart.

My phone buzzed. A text from David: Can we please talk? I made a mistake.

I stared at the message, then deleted it without responding. David felt like a lifetime ago, a different person's problem.

Another buzz. Sofia: How's it going? Surviving the reunion?

I typed back: It's complicated.

Sofia: Complicated how?

Me: We kissed.

My phone immediately rang.

"Holy shit," Sofia said without preamble. "Tell me everything."

"I can't talk right now," I whispered, glancing around the clubhouse.

"Em, are you okay? You sound rattled."

"I am rattled." I walked toward the bathroom for privacy. "He kissed me, Sofia. Against the wall behind the clubhouse like we were teenagers again."

"And?" Sofia prompted.

"And nothing's changed," I admitted. "Six years, and he still affects me the same way."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing." She coos.

"It's a terrible thing," I corrected. "I came here to bury my father and go back to my life. I can't get sucked back into this world."

"Maybe your life isn't in the city," Sofia suggested gently. "Maybe it never was."

"I have to go," I said as Carmen approached the bathroom door.

"Em, wait"

I hung up and splashed cold water on my face, trying to compose myself. In the mirror, I looked exactly like a woman who'd been thoroughly kissed by a dangerous man.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Marco was waiting.

"We need to talk," he said grimly.

He led me to a private room off the main bar, closing the door behind us. The space was clearly his office now Dad's old desk, but with Marco's personal touches.

"Sit," Marco commanded.

I perched on the edge of a chair, feeling like a teenager about to be lectured.

"What happened between you and Axel out there?" Marco asked directly.

"Nothing," I lied.

Marco's eyes flashed. "Don't lie to me, Em. I saw your face when you came back inside."

I crossed my arms defensively. "Nothing happened."

"Bullshit." Marco leaned against his desk. "I know you, and I know him. The question is, how long has this been going on?"

"It's not going on," I protested. "It was just"

"Just what? A moment of weakness?" Marco's voice was getting colder. "Because I distinctly remember having this conversation with Axel six years ago."

My stomach dropped. "What conversation?"

"The one where I told him to stay the hell away from my baby sister," Marco said bluntly. "The one where he promised me it would never happen again."

"That's why he left?" The words came out as a whisper.

Marco's face softened slightly. "You didn't know."

I shook my head, pieces of the puzzle finally clicking into place. "Dad said he threatened to have Axel killed if he ever touched me again."

"Dad was pissed, but it wasn't his threat that mattered," Marco said quietly. "It was mine."

"What did you say to him?" I demanded.

Marco ran a hand through his hair. "That if he ever hurt you, I'd kill him myself. And that getting involved with him would destroy you."

"That wasn't your decision to make," I said, anger building in my chest.

"You were sixteen," Marco said firmly. "He was twenty, two and already knee, deep in club business. What kind of brother would I have been if I'd let that happen?"

"The kind who trusted me to make my own choices," I shot back.

"You were a kid, Em. You had no idea what you were getting into."

I stood up, pacing to the window. "I'm not sixteen anymore, Marco."

"No, but you're still my sister. And Axel is still dangerous as hell."

I turned to face him. "He's your friend. Your brother. If he's so dangerous, why is he here?"

"Because I trust him with my life," Marco said simply. "But that doesn't mean I trust him with your heart."

"My heart is my business," I said firmly.

Marco pushed off from the desk. "Not when it comes to family. Em, you don't understand what Axel's been doing these past six years."

"Then tell me," I challenged.

Marco hesitated, then sighed. "He's been working as an enforcer for hire. Traveling from club to club, taking the jobs nobody else wanted, especially the violent ones."

My blood chilled. "What kind of jobs?"

"The kind that would scar you if you found out," Marco said quietly. "Inside and out. He's not the same man you remember."

"Neither am I," I pointed out.

"Aren't you?" Marco asked. "Because from where I'm standing, you look exactly like the sixteen, year, old girl who used to sneak out to meet him behind the garage."

Before I could respond, a commotion erupted from the main room. Shouting, the sound of chairs scraping, someone yelling for Marco.

We rushed out of the office to find the clubhouse in chaos. Members were grabbing weapons, and through the front windows, I could see motorcycles pulling into the parking lot.

"Reapers," someone shouted.

Marco was instantly in President mode. "Lock it down. Nobody in or out without my say, so."

I pressed myself against the wall as club members moved. Weapons appeared from hidden compartments, and the atmosphere shifted from relaxed to lethal in seconds.

"Em, get to the back room," Marco ordered.

"No." I stood my ground. "I'm not hiding."

"You're not armed, and you're not wearing colors," Marco said sharply. "You're a liability."

"I'm Vincent Romano's daughter," I said with more confidence than I felt.

EMILIA POV

The front door burst open before Marco could argue further. Five men in Crimson Reapers colors strutted in like they owned the place. I recognized their president immediately: Victor "Viper" Kane, a man whose reputation for cruelty was legendary even by MC standards.

Kane was tall and lean, with pale eyes and graying hair slicked back from his angular face. He wore an expensive suit instead of leather, but the gun under his jacket was visible to anyone who knew how to look.

"Marco," Kane said pleasantly. "Sorry to interrupt your family reunion."

"Victor," Marco's voice was ice, cold. "You've got some balls showing up here."

Kane's gaze swept the room, cataloging the number of Iron Serpents present before landing on me. His eyes slid over me like oil, his smile turning smug.

"And you must be the famous Emilia," Kane said, taking a step in my direction. "You’ve grown into quite the woman. Your father always said you were too good for this life."

He reached out, his knuckles brushing against my jawline before I could flinch away.

The entire clubhouse exploded.

Axel was suddenly in front of me, his gun half-drawn, his body a wall of pure, homicidal rage. "Touch her again and I'll paint the walls with your brains, Viper."

Every Iron Serpent in the room tensed, hands dropping to their holsters. Kane's men shifted nervously, their fingers twitching over their weapons. The temperature dropped past freezing.

Kane laughed, low and genuinely delighted, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Easy, Ghost. Wouldn't want to start the war early. I've heard about your work, anyway. Such an impressive kill count."

"Not impressive enough," Axel said quietly. "Yet."

"Gentlemen, please," Kane said with amusement, lowering his hands but keeping his predatory gaze fixed on me. "No need for threats. Yet. I just came to pay my respects. Vincent was a worthy adversary."

"You killed him," I said, my voice shaking with a mix of fury and fear.

Kane's smile widened. "Did I? That's a serious accusation, sweetheart. But let's be civilized about this. Vincent's dead, which means his territory is up for grabs. I'm prepared to make a generous offer for the Iron Serpents' operations."

"We're not selling," Marco said firmly, his hand clamping down on Axel's shoulder hard enough to bruise, physically holding him back from pulling the trigger. I could see the veins standing out on both their necks.

"Everyone has a price," Kane replied. "Even you, Marco."

"Not everything's for sale," I snapped.

Kane's attention snapped back to me. "Everything's for sale, princess. It's just a matter of finding the right currency. You've got seventy-two hours to consider my offer. After that, I will be forced to take a more direct approach."

"There's nothing to consider," Marco said flatly.

Kane shrugged, turning toward the heavy doors. He leaned in one last time, his voice dropping to a sinister purr. "Seventy-two hours, princess. Find what your daddy hid… or I’ll take you instead. And I promise I’ll enjoy breaking you in."

The Reapers filed out as suddenly as they'd arrived, leaving the clubhouse buzzing with lethal tension.

"That was a threat," Tank observed unnecessarily.

"No shit," Marco said grimly. "Double the watch rotation. Nobody rides alone."

"What about the funeral tomorrow?" Carmen asked.

Marco's jaw clenched. "We proceed as planned. But everyone stays armed and alert."

The club members began to disperse, discussing security arrangements and contingency plans. I remained frozen by the wall, processing the venomous promises Kane had left behind.

"Are you okay?" Axel asked, turning to me, his green eyes still wild with the urge to kill.

I nodded, though my heart was hammering against my ribs. "He's going to try to take over Dad's business."

"He's going to try," Axel agreed. "But he won't succeed."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I will kill him first." The casual, flat delivery sent a chill down my spine. This was the man Axel had become in the years he'd been gone—detached, lethal, a weapon.

"You can't just kill him," I whispered.

"Watch me," Axel replied.

Before I could respond, my phone started ringing. An unknown local number flashed across the screen.

"Hello?" I answered cautiously.

"Miss Romano?" An unfamiliar male voice cut through the static. "This is Detective Ray with the Desert Ridge Police Department."

My stomach dropped. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry to bother you so late, but I understand you just returned to town. I was hoping we could meet tomorrow to discuss your father's case. There are some inconsistencies in the witness statements that I'd like to clarify with you. Would ten AM work?"

"I... yes, I suppose."

"Excellent. The station on Fourth Street." The line went dead.

"Who was that?" Marco asked immediately, stepping over.

"Detective Ray," I said. "He wants to meet about Dad's case."

Marco's face darkened. "You're not going."

"Actually, I am," I said, defiance flaring up. "Someone needs to find out what really happened that night. You say the Reapers killed him, but can you prove it? Kane seemed entirely confident he couldn't be touched."

Marco and Axel exchanged a tight, heavy look.

"Em, there are things you don't understand," Marco started.

"Then explain them to me! I'm not a child anymore, Marco. Stop treating me like one."

"Some things are better left alone," Axel said quietly.

"Are you seriously going to shut me out of my own father's murder investigation?"

"We're trying to protect you," Marco said.

"From what? The truth?"

"From getting killed," Axel said bluntly. "Kane wasn't making idle threats tonight. He wants something, and he thinks you're the key to getting it."

"What could I possibly have that he wants?" I demanded.

Again, that heavy, suffocating silence stretched between Marco and Axel.

"What aren't you telling me?" I asked.

Marco sighed heavily, rubbing his face. "Dad left something behind. Something valuable. And Kane thinks you know where it is."

"What kind of something?"

"The kind that could end the Reapers permanently," Marco said grimly. "Or get us all killed trying to use it."

My phone buzzed in my hand, a harsh vibration against my palm. This time, it wasn't a call. It was a text.

Unknown Number: I had to get through hoops to secure your number, easy if I might say. Your father hid something that belongs to me. Find it, or your family pays the price. You have 72 hours.

I turned the screen around, showing the message to Marco and Axel. Both men's faces went deadly pale.

"Pack your things," Axel said immediately, his voice dropping into that iron command structure. "You're not staying here tonight."

"Where am I going?" I asked.

"Somewhere safe," Axel replied. "My place."

"Absolutely not," Marco said flatly.