Page 57 of Sinner's Storm
Remi smiled. “Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?”
I tried not to wince as Sypher glided the tattoo gun across my back. While I never thought about adorning my body with ink, I had to admit it was a lot better than the branding iron the Soulless Sinners used. That shit was barbaric, and painful.
Listening as Remi, Layla and Illyria all laughed and joked around while Sypher did his thing. I couldn’t stop thinking how, because of a one-night stand, my life had taken such a drastic turn, when something kept bugging me.
“Remi? Layla said my grandfather started the Golden Skulls.”
“That’s right. Xavier Goldman.”
“So, how does this work? Does this mean I get a say in what goes on?”
Layla busted out laughing as Remi chuckled, shaking her hand. “Oh, honey. You may be Golden, but it’s still a men’s club. Unless you have a fucking penis, you don’t get a say. But because you are Golden, your voice will be heard and considered.”
“How many of us are Golden?”
“Well.” Remi sighed, leaning back in her seat, nursing a beer. “There is Solomon, your cousin. His father was Mirage. Your dad’s older brother. Then there is Jessica Keller. She’s married to Savage, a brother in the club, and is the half-sister of Reaper, the asshole I’m married to. Then there is Bullseye. He’s the son of James Doherty.”
“I’m Golden because of my father, Sabastian Capribella.” Layla grimaced. “He is the bastard son of William Doherty, but we don’t talk about those fucknuts.”
“Don’t forget there is Carly Mitchell, but after what her mother did, she’s gone off the radar. Last I heard, she was living peacefully somewhere up north,” Remi added.
“How many of us have ties to other clubs or organizations?”
“Layla is Golden and the heir of the Capribella Mafia Family. She is also the niece of Maxim, the head of the Russian Bratva. Jessica is Golden and she is the niece of King, the president of the Sons of Hell Motorcycle Club. She is biker royalty. While I’m not Golden, I am the daughter of Vladmir Ivenok, the second to Maxim, as well as being Maxim’s goddaughter. Then there is your daughter, Harlow. She is Golden because of you, and as the daughter of Storm, she is also biker royalty.”
“Layla, Remi, it’s ready,” Sypher announced, removing the tattooing gun from my back. Staying seated, I watched while Remi and Layla got to their feet and Giovanni handed Layla a knife before she carefully cut her thumb. Handing the knife to Remi, she did the same before both women placed their bleeding thumbs over my new tattoo, smearing their blood on my back. “You are of our blood. We are of your blood. We are Golden Skull. We are now your sisters—today, tomorrow, forever. Welcome home.”
Getting to my feet, I walked over to the mirror and looked at the tattoo—a Golden Skull with blades running through the skull. Under it was the name Legacy. Turning to the women, I inquired, “Legacy?”
“Your club name.” Remi smirked. “Thought it was fitting, considering that your grandfather created the club.”
I looked back at the mirror and smiled.
Chapter Twenty-One
Storm
Typing into my phone, I brought up the club’s surveillance system, deactivating the cameras and audio in the entire club.
I wasn’t taking any chances.
When I returned to the penthouse after Montana sent me on a wild fucking goose chase, I expected to find Delany and Harlow, not Vladmir Ivenok, sitting on my couch with a gun pointed at me. If that wasn’t bad enough, I got a text from Malice telling me that Montana kicked Delany to the curb and was holding my daughter as leverage.
While I got that Montana was only trying to protect the club, he went about it the wrong fucking way.
Now, that bastard left me with no choice.
He picked the wrong side.
Hearing the back door unlock, I reached for my gun and opened the fucking door. I knew the only ones in the club were Malice, who was with Harlow, Silver, who had already retired for the evening, and Montana, who was sitting in his office, nursing a bottle of whiskey.
Making my way in the dark, I headed straight for the mailroom.
This shit was going to end tonight.
If Montana was too chickenshit to do anything, then that was on him. I would not let some perverted fucknut with a God complex destroy my family. I promised Delany that nothing would happen to her or Harlow, and I intended to keep that promise.
No matter the cost.