Page 52 of Savage Angels

“Yo, Dane,” Onyx speaks up, his dark eyes locked onto me, demanding my attention. “No disrespect, Prez, but are we gonna exact some real revenge on these assholes or just sit on our bikes all day lookin’ mean?”

Rage flares inside of me.

The nerve of this guy.

But he is right.

This wasn’t a time for idle threats. I need to show my brothers we were taking this fight seriously.

“Listen up, I know the last time we geared up for war, we were asked to back down. We wanted to prevent bloodshed on both sides.” My eyes lock onto each member of the Chicago chapter as I continue, “But this time, no one is going to stand in our way. We’re taking the Lombardis down, and we won’t stop until they pay for what they’ve done.”

My brothers nod their silent agreement, knowing full well this isn’t only about me—it is about the Savage Angels MC and everything we stand for.

The heavy door swings open, revealing Sal. The room goes deadly quiet, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Sal,” I say, extending my hand and pulling him into a tight bro-hug. “Glad you could make it.”

“Anything for family,” he replies, his dark eyes meeting mine. Sal might be part of the Italian mob, but he is a brother to me, and I will be damned if anyone disrespects him.

“Listen up!” I bark, turning back to the club. “This here is Salvatore Agostino, brother to me and a friend to the MC. We show him respect, got it?” A few men exchange uneasy glances, not accustomed to having someone from the mafia in our midst, let alone on sacred ground. But none dare oppose me as I am president of the mother chapter.

“Thank you, Dane.” Sal addresses the room, “I come here to offer my help. We share a common enemy, and there’s nothing more important than honor.”

I can see the uncertainty in my brothers’ eyes, but I trust Sal, and if he is willing to lend a hand, we would be fools not to accept it.

“Can I speak with you in private, Dane?” Sal asks.

“Sure thing,” I reply, leading him out of the crowded room and into the cool night air.

“I know where Tarso Lombardi is hiding. I want to help you take him down.” His eyes bore into mine, letting me know he means every damn word.

I take a deep breath, letting the chill of the night air fill my lungs before I speak. “I appreciate that, Sal. Really, I do. But this is something the Savage Angels must handle on their own. We need to show the Lombardi fucks we aren’t playing games.”

Sal seems to think for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he considers something.

Then, he looks back at me with resolve in his gaze. “All right, Dane. I have another idea. What if I call a meeting with the families? You know, to draw Tarso Lombardi out into the open. I have a warehouse down by the docks… private and secluded. The Savage Angels can wait inside for him.”

I weigh his words, my mind racing through the possibilities. We have been through a lot together, him and the MC, but this is different. This was war.

“Tomorrow night,” I finally say, decision made. “We’ll do it tomorrow night.”

Sal nods. “I’ll set it up. We’re going to take that son of a bitch down once and for all.”

“Let’s hope so.” I turn on my heel and head back into the clubhouse.

The room is buzzing, my brothers eager for action. They can feel it in the air, the electricity of what is about to go down. I stand in front of them, letting my eyes roam over every one of them—these men who’ve become my family, who I’ll fight and die for without a second thought.

“Listen up!” The chatter comes to a halt. “We’ve got a plan. Sal’s going to call a meeting with the families tomorrow night. Tarso Lombardi will be there, and we’re going to be waiting for him.”

A murmur of approval ripples through the room, and I see the fire in their eyes—that same hunger for vengeance that burns inside me.

“Tomorrow night, we show these Lombardi fucks what happens when you mess with the Savage Angels MC.”

A roar erupts from my brothers, the sound shaking the walls and making my heart pound hard.

***

The warehouse is a grimy, forgotten place—the kind of spot where the sun does not shine and hope goes to die. Cobwebs hang thick in the corners, and the air reeks of mold and decay. This is our battleground—the stage for the showdown that will end the feud between us and the Lombardi scum.