Chapter 23 Masks and Motives
Valentina’s POV
Three weeks slip by, each one thick with anticipation and the secret energy that runs between sisters plotting in the shadows. The clubhouse feels different now, every room charged with the tension of coming change. Every day, Giuliana and I huddle over blueprints and burner phones, our whispers tangled with laughter and a kind of reckless courage. The men disappear behind closed doors for church, the steady drone of voices and the muted rattle of cutlery the only proof of their world moving parallel to ours. We know only what they let slip-just enough to stitch together a hazy picture of their next move. Daytona Beach, Florida is their target, a sun-soaked week of hustling for Bike Week permits and scouting stalls to hawk custom bikes, chrome parts, hand-stitched leather, anything to turn heads and turn a profit.
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The old ladies throw themselves into their crafts, the kitchen and garage buzzing with the clatter of beadwork, the scent of baking bread, the sharp tang of metal polish. Everyone counts down to the rally, like kids to Christmas, their excitement a strange camouflage for the nerves bubbling beneath. I feel it too-a wild, fizzing anticipation at the thought of the trip, and a sharper, darker thrill at the risks Giuliana and I are about to take.
In the margins of all this, I cultivate the friendship with Linsey. Texts ping back and forth every couple of days, casual but calculated, each one another stitch in the fabric of our cover. More than once, Giuliana and I meet up with her and Bonnie for afternoons spent shopping or sipping overly sweet cocktails in noisy chain restaurants. Linsey is effusive, almost clingy, declaring us best friends by the second mall trip. To her, it’s just a happy accident of fate; to Giuliana and me, it’s a carefully laid insurance policy. In our world, protection often comes wrapped in borrowed smiles.
It’s over a cheap lunch at Applebee’s, sunlight streaming across sticky tables, that I ask the question that’s been gnawing at me. “Linsey, what did you mean about us being safer now that we’re friends?”
She glances at Bonnie, a flicker of something passing between them-relief, maybe, or the weight of memory. “Sometimes,” she says quietly, “our club can get rough with new girls who show up at parties. There’s a pecking order. But if it’s known you’re with one of the Old Ladies, you’re off limits. You’re family, not a target.”
Bonnie nods, her gaze darting toward the two men shadowing us from a nearby booth. They stand apart from the lunchtime crowd, leather vests gleaming, arms folded across broad chests, faces set in that unreadable way that men in this world learn from birth. One of them-bald, head tattooed with flames, mustache framing a permanent sneer-watches me like I’m something to be claimed or conquered. His eyes are dark, unreadable, but his stare burns.
I shoot him a kiss, brazen, half a dare. He grins, slow and predatory.
Linsey notices, her eyes narrowing, then she turns back, her smile shifting gears. “So, Fiona, anyone special in your life? What about you, Sally?”
We slip into our roles, so practiced now it feels natural. I’m the privileged, restless college girl; Giuliana’s my loyal friend, the maid’s daughter, older but forever in my shadow. We’ve crafted every detail of our backstory to hold up under scrutiny, the lies polished until they shine.
I sigh, affecting a little melodrama. “I had someone for a while. Caught him screwing some airhead from my sorority. Haven’t bothered since.”
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< Chapter 23 Masks and Motives
Linsey’s gaze flicks to my hand, the tattoo on my ring finger. “And that? Is that him?”
My face falls, just a touch. “No, that was my first love. Still hurts. Some scars you don’t show off.”
Bonnie and Linsey both nod, soft-eyed, eating up every word. For a moment, I almost feel guilty at how easy it is.
I turn the spotlight on Giuliana, unable to resist. “Sally had a man, too. Did some bad shit, ended up in prison.”
Linsey leans forward, hungry for the story. “Really? What happened?”
Giuliana hesitates, just for a second, then spins her own fiction with a grace that makes me proud. “He was charming, normal-a friend’s wedding hookup gone right. But then he changed. Started keeping secrets, staying out all night, smelling like cheap perfume. He swore nothing was wrong, but the truth always leaks out. Turns out he was running illegal games and pushing drugs with some slick friend. Cops busted down my door, hauled him away. He’s got a few years left to serve.”
I watch her with admiration, grinning behind my drink. She flashes me a conspiratorial look, one only sisters share.
Linsey lets out a whoop, clapping her hands. “God, you two are wild. You have to come to the party next week. It’s at the Ravagers MC. Full spread-booze, food, hot bikers everywhere. I’ll introduce you to all the Old Ladies. My man, Razor, he’ll be there. Bonnie’s boyfriend Bulldozer is dying to meet you both.”
Bonnie bobs her head in agreement, all bright eyes and anticipation.
I jump in, selling the enthusiasm. “That sounds incredible, right Sally?”
Giuliana’s laugh is genuine. “Definitely. What’s the dress code?”
Linsey’s grin turns sly. “The sluttier, the better. You want to stand out-club whores will be everywhere, but you’re new, so you’ll have their attention.”
I widen my eyes, innocence played to perfection. “Club whores?”
She laughs, conspiratorial. “Girls who hang around for the chance to sleep with a biker. We hate them. They’re always ready to jump our men when we can’t make the parties. It’s just the way things are. Every Old Lady knows her man will stray eventually, but we’re the ones he always comes home to. Stand out, and maybe one of the guys will claim you. Then you’re one of us. Sisters, for real.”
She squeezes my hand across the table, her excitement infectious. The moment hangs, electric, as if we’ve just passed through some invisible gate.
Across from me, Giuliana hides a smile, her fingers tightening on mine. Our lives are a performance, every word another line in the story we’re writing together. But for now, with the music thrumming overhead and the weight of Linsey’s trust settling around us, the masks fit perfectly.
I stare at Linsey, unable to believe the words tumbling from her lips. If Killian is still screwing around with club girls, I’ll make sure he regrets it. I shoot Giuliana a glance-her eyes blaze, dark with a promise that if Slate ever strays, he’ll be limping for life.
I lift my voice, sharp and playful. “Hey, Flash?”
He looks up, lips curling into a smirk. “Yeah?”
< Chapter 23 Masks and Motives
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“How about you play with me next weekend at your club’s party?”
He grins wide, grabbing his crotch with both hands. “Fuck yeah, babe. I’ll play real nice.”
Charming. I roll my eyes.
“Perfect, doll. I’ll make sure to wear something unforgettable for you.” I throw him a wink. His grin stretches even wider, wolfish and eager.
Linsey and Bonnie dissolve into laughter, their eyes bright and wicked.
Later, Giuliana and I sit hunched over our plans, tension thick in the air as we double-check every detail. Pills, powders, vials-all lined up like weapons in a private war.
“We need to deal with the women first,” Giuliana says, voice low.
I nod. “We take them out of the picture right away. I’ll crush enough rohypnol to lace a tequila bottle. When the shots start, they’ll think we’re partying, but you and I stick to water-bring it in a vodka bottle so it looks legit. Once they’re under, we wait for the drugs to hit. Then it’s time for the men. I’ll pour them shots too, and the ones who hold out, we push molly on them, or hit them with the special K.”
Giuliana flashes a feral smile. “Linsey says every Ravager is showing up-someone’s out of prison, so it’s a real blowout. We have to move fast, but once the party’s raging
and half the crew is wasted, no
one will see us coming.”
“Did Killian give you the mollies?” I ask, dropping my voice.
“He didn’t ask. I just told Blaise we needed them for the plan. Thirty pills, easy as pie.”
The church doors swing open, and the men pour out, all swagger and adrenaline. Killian finds me first, sweeping me up as if the weight of the world is nothing. My legs hook around his waist, arms tightening at his neck, noses brushing.
“You behave while I’m gone,” he murmurs, gaze burning with warning and love. “Fortress, Wildcard, Grimmark, and Graveyard are staying back, plus two prospects at the gate. If you leave, you take two with you, no exceptions.”
I shake my head, soft but stubborn. “That’s not going to work, Killian. Giuliana and I need freedom to
move.”
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He exhales, the sound heavy in my ear. “Fine. Just-be careful, angel. I can’t lose you.” His forehead presses to mine, and in that small space, the world hushes.
My lips find his, hungry and rough. We lose ourselves in the kiss, pressed together until a few impatient coughs break through. Over his shoulder, I catch other men saying their goodbyes, fierce
and tender.
“I love you,” we say in perfect unison. A soft laugh tumbles from my lips as he sets me down.
Giuliana and I, side by side with the other Old Ladies, watch our men mount up, the rumble of engines shaking the morning quiet. In a single sweep, they’re gone, steel and leather swallowed by distance.
Giuliana nudges me. “Ready to finish this?”
I grin, adrenaline already lighting my veins. “Ready for blood, it’s been too long.”
Arm in arm, we head back into the clubhouse, the promise of chaos already thick in the air. Tomorrow night, the real games begin.
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