Page 52 of Slayin Villain (Royal Bastards MC: Nashville, TN #11)
Villain
I stared at the envelope like it was a live grenade.
It had been sitting on my dresser for an hour, unopened. Thick white paper, cheap-ass lab logo stamped in the corner, my fucking full name typed on the front like it belonged to a man with his shit together. I took a sharpie and marked that out fast.
But I wasn’t that man.
Not when the envelope could rewrite everything.
Rachel was asleep in the other room, baby girl tucked against her chest. I could hear her soft breaths through the cracked door, grounding me, tempting me to burn this damn thing and never look back. Pretend the past was ashes.
But I wasn’t that kind of coward anymore.
I ripped the thing open.
Pulled the sheet out with shaking hands.
And there it was in black and white.
“Probability of paternity: 99.99%”
Ember’s baby.
My daughter.
I didn’t shed a tear though I was shaking like a leaf.
I just sat there for a while, listening to the baby monitor like it might save me from the truth.
There were two little girls in this world now with my blood running through their veins.
And I didn’t know how to be a father to one, let alone two.
I waited until the sun came up.
Rachel was in the nursery, rocking our girl when I walked in. She looked tired but beautiful, barefoot, messy hair, the soft cotton of her tank clinging to her curves in all the right places. She looked like home.
“Hey,” I said.
She looked up, saw the envelope in my hand, and stilled. “You opened it.”
“Yeah.”
Her eyes searched mine, even though she already knew.
I nodded once. “She’s mine.”
Rachel looked down at our baby girl, then kissed the top of her tiny head. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I echoed, not daring to believe it.
Rachel’s voice was soft but steady. “I knew it might be. I made my peace with that when you went to the hospital that night.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are.”
I stepped closer, hand reaching for hers. “I don’t want to lose what we have, Red.”
“You won’t,” she said. “But we need to be honest about what that means now.”
I nodded, throat thick. “I will take care of her. Ember’s baby. But I’m here. With you. For us. For this girl right here.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I spent months chasing the wrong things. And I know now, I don’t want a second chance with Ember. I want a real life with you.”
Rachel blinked fast and smiled.
Later that afternoon, Kingpin called a meeting in the back room. Just the inner circle, him, Pagan, Irish, and me. Ember sat there too, still bruised, still fierce, holding her baby with that mix of pride and pain only a woman like her could carry.
She didn’t look at me when I sat across from her.
Kingpin leaned forward, voice low. “We got the results. Villain’s the father.”
Ember finally met my eyes, and for a second, I saw it, the flicker of old hurt, old want. But it faded quick.
“I don’t want him,” she said plainly.
I almost laughed in relief.
“I never did. Not like that,” she added. “It was a mistake. And I know that now.”
Kingpin nodded slowly. “We’re not in the business of raising kids alone. You got protection here. You’re part of this family, whether you like it or not.”
Irish cleared his throat. “You plannin’ on leavin’ again, girl?”
“No,” she said. “Not now.”
“Then what do you want, Ember?” Kingpin asked.
She looked down at her daughter, then up at all of us. “I want her to have a chance. A real one. Not running from town to town like I did. Not afraid. If that means staying here, letting the club help me raise her, then fine. I’ll stay. But I’m not anyone’s prisoner. Not anymore.”
Kingpin smirked. “You’re not a prisoner. You’re one of us now.”
“I don’t want a patch,” she said quickly.
“You don’t need one,” he replied. “Your kid’s got the blood.”
That shut everyone up.
Later that night, I came home to Rachel and the baby on the couch.
I kissed Rachel like a man who knew better now. Kissed her like a man who’d nearly lost everything.
She pulled me down beside her and whispered, “We’re gonna be okay.”
I believed her.