Chapter 1

ELARA'S POV 

"Dad is dead." Just three words and I found myself standing in front of the clubhouse I used to call home.  

The home I spent the last six years running from, though it never really felt like it after I watched my mother bleed to death. 

I was standing in front of the same clubhouse I swore I’d never step foot in again, where it all started and where it all ended.

All I could think about was how many times I begged my father to walk away from this life, to stop acting like death didn’t come for men like him, how many times I told him I didn’t want to bury him the way we buried her.

But he never listened, he always said he had it under control, that the streets respected him too much for anyone to touch him, and now...he's dead. 

I took in my surroundings once more. Motorcycles are packed all over. 

Everyone was here, everyone ought to be here, their president just got murdered. I gripped the handle of my leather bag, took a deep breath and walked into the clubhouse. 

Opening the door, a whiff of strong alcohol hit me. Every head turned, all eyes landed on me, and though none of them shed a tear, I could feel the entire room drowning in sadness and all kinds of alcohol.

There he was, my brother, sitting on the barstool, drinking what I think is whiskey. 

"Look who finally decided to crawl out of her fancy life." Rylan said. His eyes met mine and I could see the pain in them, the kind of pain that no amount of whiskey could hide even if he wanted it to.  

"Is this how you want to continue living your life?" I asked. 

He chuckled bitterly and stood on the stool. “Don’t do this, Princess. Don’t come back here and start giving advice. You left, remember?”  

“I left because I had to,” I said. “I warned Dad to leave this life, and now he’s gone. You think I want to lose you too?”  

“This life saved me,” Rylan said, his jaw clenched. “It saved all of us. I’m not like you, I don’t run from what saved me.”  

I stepped even closer, my voice trembling. 

“This life didn’t save us, Rylan. It gave us scars. It took Mom and now Dad. What has it ever given us except pain?”

He paused and looked around, scanning the faces of the members in the clubhouse. 

“I can’t let you leave my side anymore, it’s dangerous, Princess.” He turned back toward the bar, completely ignoring what I said. He knows I'm right but just doesn't want to admit it. 

“No, Rylan. I came back for the funeral, that’s all. If you don’t want to leave this madness behind, I’ll return to New York alone.”  

He looked over his shoulder at me, “I didn’t stutter. I won’t let you leave my side again. You’re the only one I have left.”  

“Exactly! You’re the only family I have left,” I said, my voice breaking again, “I...I don’t want to see you end up like them.”  

“That’s enough!" He raised his voice and my body slightly jumped at the sudden change. 

Tears rolled freely down my cheeks now, and I hated how much it hurt that he couldn’t see what I was trying to do, that he would rather hold me here against my will than understand why I was scared.  

“I’m not a kid anymore,” I whispered. “You can’t treat me like one.”  

Rylan stepped toward me like he wanted to say something, but then a figure moved between us. 

Back view, broad shouldered, wearing a black leather jacket like every single person in the room. His body blocked my view of Rylan completely.  

“This is not the time or mood to discuss this now." The man in front of me said in a deep, low voice. The strong scent of his aftershave hit me, slowly intoxicating me. 

I heard Rylan sigh and say, “Take her with you, she will be safe with you.” I can't believe he's actually holding me here against my will.  

The man stepped aside just enough for me to see Rylan again, his eyes softer now. 

Rylan walked back to his stool like the conversation was over.  

“I know you won’t try anything,” he added without looking back, “but remember the relative rule." 

"Let's go." The same baritone voice said. I stood there, my hands clenched into fists.  

I was leaving after the funeral, I wouldn't change my mind. I stormed outside and kicked the nearest motorcycle tire in frustration. 

"Why won't he listen to me?" I muttered to myself. 

I turned, my eyes landing on the man Rylan had told to keep me 'safe.'

Gorgeous. 

As I took him, realization dawned on me. Knox? He was bigger now, broader in the shoulders. 

Even with the jacket, I could see tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves. 

I didn't recall him having even a drop of ink on his body. 

How many years have passed?

"Knox?" I breathed out. 

He didn't acknowledge the surprise in my voice. He just walked over to a nearby motorcycle and grabbed a helmet. 

Yes, definitely him. Obnoxious and arrogant, he got on one of the bikes. 

 "Get on," he ordered, stretching out a hand with a helmet.

I stood my ground, my arms tight across my chest. "I won't get on." I said. "They're dangerous. If you can't find a car, I won't go with you."

Knox paused, resting his forearm on the handlebars. His eyes, the same piercing blue I remembered. 

They held a different kind of light, something darker. 

The silence was heavy. He had changed, grown into something more...more dangerous.

He sighed and got off his bike. 

He walked over to a green, dirt-caked truck parked further down. 

He reached into his jeans back pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped the car seats.

"Get in," he said, and got into the driver's seat. 

I walked around. I pulled out a napkin from my bag and placed it on my seat. The car was dirty and dusty, I couldn't risk getting germs all over me. After several attempts of Knox starting the car, we finally hit the road.

It had been an emotional, long day. I regretted every decision I had made since stepping foot in the clubhouse. 

Correction. 

I regret every decision I made today. Since the moment I found my fiancé in bed with a hooker this morning. 

"The rival gangs killed Tiger," Knox finally said, breaking the silence, his gaze fixed on the road. "And that calls for war." He paused. "All Rylan wants is your safety. You should understand that."

Why was I born into this family? I would appreciate it if I had been born into a family of cowards. At least we would still be alive together.