“The Wayfarers are no longer allies, Vicky.”
“See!! See!! If I had submitted to Mex and his crazy scheme, I would have been married to a man at war with my father. What next? Dear Daddy would have wanted me to kill my husband? It’s just sick, Morgan.”
“No, turning your back on your family is. Especially now, when we’re almost at war with the Wayfarers. You have an alliance with Evans? After all that’s been done for you? What do you want, Vicky?”
“To be left alone! I want you, Mex, and the entire Rows to forget that I exist. From now until the end of time. Whatever happens to Mex, I don’t want to be trapped in the crossfire. Do you know why I’m here, Morgan? I don’t care if the man who calls himself my father lives or dies. I’m doing it for my mother and for Johnny. So, I can stand at their graves and tell them that I’ve done right by them. A war is brewing! Whether Mex lives or dies, I’ll side with Evans. Am I right or wrong, I don’t really care. I’ve made my choice. I’m not going back to the MC, or the underworld. Ever.”
As the words left her mouth, it crystallized what she already knew all along. It was undeniable that she loved Aleksei, more than she ever loved any man in her life. But she couldn’t dive back into this world. Just being affiliated with a man so closely tied to the Bratva would require a lot from her too. She was done submitting against her will, forced against everything she stood for. Another time of mourning. In that instant, as she looked at the man she had known all her life, almost as long as her father, deep down she knew there was no other alternative.
Morgan exhaled softly, smoothing his beard with his thick leathery fingers. “I wish I could make you see the trouble you are causing, Vicky.”
“If you leave me alone, there won’t be any trouble, Morgan. I’m no longer the frightened girl who faked her death to flee a civilized form of slavery. I have connections, friends, people who owe me favors. Remember that, Morgan when you return to the Rows and when all you stubborn males try to decide my fate like Neanderthals.”
Lance snickered beside her, but she trained her eyes on her father’s best friend and influential member of the Rows.
After a while, Morgan finally nodded, sorrow on his face. “I’m sorry you feel that way. We all love you very much, sweetie.”
Deva sighed. There was no possible way to make them realize that their type of love was wrong. She was convinced that Morgan thought, deep down, that he was right.
When Morgan got to his feet, Deva followed suit, sorry for the man. She had known Morgan since she was a toddler. He had a more accommodating, friendlier nature than her father. She could hate Mex as much as she wanted, but not Morgan.
She took the older man in her arms, and he returned his affection the same in a fierce bear hug. “Take care, Morgan.”
“You too, sweetie pie.”
And as he disappeared around the corner, a doctor arrived in the room.
“Are you the family of Mr. Johnson?”
Deva stepped forward. “I’m his daughter.”
The doctor came toward her, and she knew immediately that her father had died. A void expanded in her chest. She was alone now. A chapter had closed. Ready or not, despite the sorrow and the tears.
Straightening her back, Deva knew that the only way was to go forward from now on.
