Page 39 of Secret Betrayals

You don’t lay hands on me and expect to walk away.

My heart pounds with something dangerous. Something darker than rage. This isn’t over.This hasn’t even started.

But still—why?

What in the hell could’ve pushed Axel over the edge like that? Why the fuck would he think coming at me was agood idea?

He won’t survive what I’m planning. Sebastian’s fists? That’s just the warm-up.

“ENOUGH!”

Armand’s voice booms as he rushes to my side. The room freezes, the chaos stills. I look up—and the last voice I expect to hear thunders across the common room.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Brick.

Talon’s father. Former president of LSMC.

Seventeen years.

It’s been seventeen fucking years since I’ve heard that voice, and now here he is, stomping into the room. His eyes scan theroom, fury written across every line in his face. He looks at me, at my boys, at my men—and he’s trying to piece it together.

Sebastian is still fighting against the hands holding him back—Malikai and a few of my guys are keeping him in check. Nitro and a couple of the club’s brothers restrain Axel, though he’s still snarling like a rabid dog. But he’s not looking at Sebastian. He’s looking atme, and I stare right the fuck back.

Unflinching.

Unforgiving.

He got the wrong one.

“That motherfuckerput his filthy fucking hands on my mama,” Sebastian snarls, pointing straight at Axel with murder in his voice. “And I’m about to break every single one of his fingers. Or his damn face. I haven’t decided yet.”

Brick’s eyes narrow on Sebastian, then flick back to me.

Then to Axel.

Then back to me again.

He’s confused. Hasn’t been filled in. Doesn’t know what the fuck just went down, or why.

And then Axel, still breathing heavily, throws gas on the fire.

“That bitch put our Prez in thefucking hospital!” he spits, finger jabbing in my direction. His voice is venomous. Filled with hate. The brothers holding him lose their grip for a second, and he lunges again.

For me.

Brick steps between us, blocking his son, saying something low and sharp I can’t quite hear. Whatever it is, Axel stops fighting. But his eyes are still glued to me like I’m the devil in the flesh, and suddenly the room feels colder. Air is thick with judgment. I look around and see it—the eyes.

Accusing.

Angry.

Suspicious.

My brows pull together. My chest tightens.

What the fuck is going on?