Chapter 4: The Funeral and the Blood Oath

EMILIA POV

The sound of motorcycles echoed through Desert Ridge long before sunrise.

From my bedroom window, I watched dozens of bikers arrive at the Iron Serpents clubhouse.

Some wore patches from neighboring motorcycle clubs that had come to pay their respects.

Others had ridden hundreds of miles to honor Vincent Romano.

My father had been more than a club president.

He had been a legend.

Today, everyone had come to say goodbye.

I stood in front of the mirror wearing a simple black dress.

Mama C quietly pinned one of my mother's silver brooches onto my collar.

"Your father always loved seeing you wear this," she whispered.

I smiled through my tears.

"Thank you."

"He'd be proud of the woman you've become."

Before I could answer, someone knocked softly.

"We're ready," Marco called.

I nodded and followed him downstairs.

The clubhouse parking lot was completely filled.

Rows of polished Harleys stretched across the pavement.

Every rider stood silently beside their bike.

No one spoke.

No one smiled.

Even the desert wind seemed quieter today.

Ghost stood beside my father's black Harley.

He wore a perfectly pressed black shirt beneath his leather cut.

Dark sunglasses hid his eyes, but I could still feel him watching me.

As I approached, he removed the glasses.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

I shook my head.

"No."

"Come here."

Without thinking, I stepped into his arms.

For just a few seconds...

Everything felt safe again.

"I've got you," he whispered.

"Always."

Then Marco cleared his throat.

Ghost reluctantly let me go.

The funeral procession began.

More than eighty motorcycles escorted my father's hearse through Desert Ridge.

People stood along the sidewalks with hats over their hearts.

Store owners closed their businesses as we passed.

Even the sheriff removed his hat.

Everyone respected Vincent Romano.

At the cemetery, Father Thomas spoke quietly about loyalty, family, and sacrifice.

"Vincent believed family wasn't only blood," he said.

"Family was everyone willing to stand beside you when the world turned against you."

Tears streamed down my face.

Marco remained perfectly still.

Ghost stood beside him like a silent guardian.

When the casket was lowered into the ground, Marco stepped forward.

He removed our father's Serpent President patch.

Then he held it high for everyone to see.

"Today we bury Vincent Romano," he announced.

"But we do not bury the Iron Serpents."

"The Reapers thought killing one man would destroy this club."

"They were wrong."

Every biker raised a clenched fist.

"Wrong!"

"From this day forward..."

"I accept the responsibility of President."

"And I swear before my father's grave..."

"Every man responsible for his murder will answer for it."

The crowd roared.

"Blood for blood!"

"Blood for blood!"

Ghost stepped beside Marco.

Without hesitation, he pulled a hunting knife from his belt.

He sliced his palm.

Blood dripped onto the fresh dirt covering my father's grave.

"I swear my life to the Serpents," Ghost declared.

"Until every Reaper involved in Vincent's murder is dead."

One by one, every patched member repeated the ritual.

The Blood Oath.

Something my father had only performed once before.

War had officially begun.

After the ceremony, everyone returned to the clubhouse.

Food had been prepared, but almost no one ate.

Marco disappeared into the office with the club officers.

Ghost remained outside beneath the shade of an old oak tree.

I walked over quietly.

"That oath..." I asked.

"Does it really mean what I think it does?"

"Yes."

"You'd actually die for this club?"

Ghost looked toward the clubhouse.

"Your father saved my life when I was seventeen."

"Marco gave me a family."

"I'd die for either of them without hesitation."

"And now?"

His eyes slowly found mine.

"Now I'd die for you too."

My breath caught.

"Axel..."

"Don't."

"Please don't make this harder."

"Harder than what?"

"Harder than pretending I don't still love you."

The confession hit me like a punch.

For six years I'd imagined hearing those words.

Now that they were real...

I didn't know what to say.

"You left me," I whispered.

"I know."

"You broke me."

"I know."

"Then why are you saying this now?"

Ghost looked away.

"Because life is short."

"Because your father is gone."

"Because I almost lost the chance to tell you forever."

"That's not enough."

"No."

"It isn't."

"But it's the truth."

Before either of us could say another word, gunfire erupted outside the clubhouse.

Glass exploded.

Club members shouted.

"Reapers!" someone yelled.

"Take cover!"

Ghost reacted instantly.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me behind a concrete wall just as bullets tore through the parking lot.

"Stay down!"

"Axel!"

"Don't move!"

More gunshots echoed.

Motorcycles crashed.

Someone screamed.

Ghost pulled his pistol and fired twice.

A Reaper biker fell from his motorcycle across the road.

"Marco!" Ghost shouted.

"They're trying to flank us!"

"I see them!" Marco answered.

The attack lasted less than five minutes.

Then the remaining Reapers sped away into the desert.

Silence slowly returned.

Smoke drifted across the parking lot.

Several Serpents were injured.

One motorcycle burned beside the entrance.

Ghost slowly stood.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"No."

He gently touched my face.

His hand lingered for only a second.

"Good."

"Because from this moment on..."

"They know you're back."

"And they'll come after you next."

A chill ran down my spine.

The war wasn't coming anymore.

It had already begun.

And somehow...

I had become part of it.