Chapter Four

It was late in the evening when he returned to the town; the streets were dark and empty as his Harley weaved its way towards the little church at the edge of town. Walnut Springs was a tiny town on the outskirts of. Dallas-Fort Worth had a population of around 850, but the Biker Club members raised that to nearly 2,000 when they all lived at Camp Xavier, which their father had built for them. Small log cabins clustered amongst the trees, most of them virtually hidden by the foliage, the Bikers liked their privacy, only letting their hair down in the clubs they owned. Women flocked to the clubs, the single male members of the Biker Club were lean, muscular and delicious, they had their pick of them every night, much to the disgust of the local population. The main club was called ‘La Chambre Rouge.’[The Red Room] It lived up to its name; the walls were covered in a deep red brocade, the carpets dark crimson, the deep, comfortable sofas were black but had bright red scatter cushions. The lighting was dim, giving the rooms a haunting dungeon look. All the alcoves had thick red candles, adding to the atmosphere. The women who came here were warned before entering that they must obey the men who brought them without question. They were given strict instructions about what to wear, and as soon as they walked through the door, they had to give up their coats and purses, cell phones were forbidden, and they had to sign disclaimers. It was a club for the super rich, the men were all Dominants and the women they brought there were Submissives; they were dressed in only sexy underwear, thongs, stockings and six-inch heels. All were collared and led around on leads. In every room, there was BDSM equipment, and it was in use at all times.

This club alone made millions for the Biker Club; it cost a million dollars to join and a quarter of a million a year to maintain a membership, but it did not stop them from having a long list of people wanting to join.  

Xavier walked through the dark church grounds heading for the freshly dug grave. The tiny mound was covered in the beautiful blue and white roses she loved, and their scent hung heavy in the night air.

‘Alanna.’

His voice was a hoarse whisper of pain, images of their time together burned through his mind, her lithe body wrapping around his, arching up to his touch. He could see those huge emerald eyes lighting up when his lips crashed against hers and the way she gave herself to him so completely.

‘My little firebird. I am so sorry.’

Sinking to his knees, he covered his face with his hands, letting out the heartrending sobs he had been holding in since he had found out the only woman he had ever truly loved had died.

That had been six years ago, and he had thrown himself into building up

Black Knight Bikers and their holdings had changed Walnut Springs into a much bigger town. Its population was over four thousand, every day shops and Artisan markets had grown in popularity, and they had a yearly music festival that brought in lots of holidaymakers and day trippers. Xavier kept himself to himself. He still took women, but only when he needed to find his release. He had no interest in relationships, and he made that very clear to them. Every year on the anniversary of her death, he left a large bouquet of blue and white roses on her grave. She lived in his heart, and no other woman came close. Striding through the graveyard in the evening twilight, he pulled up short when he saw an older woman with a young girl standing by Alanna’s grave,

‘We have to go now, my little Colleen.’

The woman tugged the child's hand, but she broke free and ran back to the grave and placed her small hand on the gravestone.

‘Bye-bye, Mama, see you soon.’

He watched as she kissed the top of the stone and ran back to her Grandmother, his heart beating wildly,

‘Dear God, how stupid had he been?’

He stared at the stunningly beautiful child; there was no doubt in his mind who she was.

‘My daughter.’

He hissed, his eyes never leaving the child who could only be Alanna’s daughter.

‘She must have died during childbirth.’

Shaking his head in disbelief, his anger pouring through his powerful body,

‘Why hadn’t he looked into her death?’

He had been so wrapped up in his guilt and grief that it had never crossed his mind that this could have been the reason for her death, and his mind was a whirlwind as he placed his bouquet on Alanna’s grave.

‘Why didn’t you tell me, little firebird?’

Xavier glared into the distance,

‘I have a daughter.’

His eyes narrowed as he began to make his plans, she belonged to him but her damn family had not even had the decency to tell him she existed they had kept her to themselves. Anger burned in his gut at the thought of everything he had missed: her first words, first steps, first day at school, and so much more. He had learned to control his temper, and instead of heading for the ranch and demanding his daughter back, he talked to the Black Knight’s lawyer. They did not have a leg to stand on, a simple DNA test proved he was the little girl's father, and her Grandparents were told to facilitate meetings between them that would lead to her eventually being handed over to him.

Morven was terrified of the huge man her Grandparents introduced as her father,

‘No, no, no.’

She shook her small head and fled from the room, her little legs taking her to the safety of her bedroom, where she flung herself onto her bed and sobbed hysterically. This went on for months, with little improvement. She refused to look at him and when he tried to pick her up she screamed until he handed her to her Grandfather.