Chapter 8: Secrets of the Past

EMILIA POV

I barely slept after Ghost kissed me.

Every time I closed my eyes, I felt his lips against mine again.

For six years, I'd convinced myself I hated him.

Now I realized something terrifying.

I had never stopped loving him.

At sunrise, the Iron Serpents clubhouse was already alive with activity.

Engines roared.

Weapons were checked.

Ammo crates were loaded into trucks.

The war had entered a new phase.

Ghost stood beside his Harley, tightening the straps on a duffel bag.

When he noticed me approaching, the hardness in his expression softened.

"Morning," he said.

"Morning."

"How's your shoulder?"

"Better."

"Still hurts."

"You'll survive."

He smiled.

"That's my girl."

Before I could respond, Marco walked over.

"We're leaving in ten minutes," he announced.

"Ghost, you're riding point."

"Emilia stays with us."

"She doesn't leave Ghost's side."

"Understood."

The convoy rolled out shortly after.

More than twenty motorcycles thundered across the desert highway.

The wind whipped through my hair as I held tightly onto Ghost.

Unlike yesterday, I didn't hesitate to wrap my arms around him.

Neither of us pretended it meant nothing.

Two hours later, they reached one of the Serpents' abandoned warehouses near the state line.

The building looked deserted.

"Spread out," Marco ordered.

"Check everything."

Ghost motioned for me to stay behind him.

"Don't wander off."

"I remember."

Inside, dust covered everything.

Broken crates lay scattered across the floor.

Nothing seemed unusual.

Until Ghost stopped walking.

"Someone's been here recently," he muttered.

"How can you tell?"

"Fresh footprints."

"And cigarette ash."

"Nobody from our club smokes this brand."

Marco crouched beside the tracks.

"They knew we'd come."

Suddenly, one of the younger bikers shouted from upstairs.

"President! You need to see this!"

Everyone rushed toward the office overlooking the warehouse floor.

Hidden beneath loose floorboards was an old metal lockbox.

"Open it," Marco said.

Ghost pried it open with a crowbar.

Inside were several documents.

Old photographs.

Cash.

And one sealed envelope.

Across the front, written in familiar handwriting, were the words:

"For Emilia."

My heart nearly stopped.

"That's Dad's handwriting," I whispered.

Marco carefully handed me the envelope.

"Open it."

My fingers trembled as I unfolded the letter.

"My beautiful daughter,"

"If you're reading this, then I've already failed to protect you."

"There are truths I kept from you because I wanted you to have a normal life."

"Six years ago, I asked Axel Cruz to leave Desert Ridge."

"Not because he wasn't good enough for you..."

"But because he was too willing to die for you."

"The enemies I'd made would have targeted anyone you loved."

"Ghost agreed to leave because he loved you more than himself."

"Never hate him for that."

"Hate me instead."

My vision blurred with tears.

"Dad..."

The letter continued.

"If anything ever happens to me, trust Ghost."

"There are things even Marco doesn't know."

"Someone inside the Iron Serpents has been feeding information to the Reapers for years."

"I never discovered who."

"But I know one thing..."

"The traitor sits at our table."

"Be careful."

"Trust your heart."

"It has always led you to the right man."

"I love you."

"Dad."

Silence filled the room.

No one spoke.

Even Marco looked stunned.

"A traitor..." he whispered.

"Inside our club?"

Ghost slowly folded the letter.

"Vincent never wrote things he couldn't prove."

"If he believed there was a rat..."

"Then there is one."

"But who?" one of the members asked.

"Someone close enough to know club business," Ghost answered.

"Someone trusted."

Marco's face hardened.

"From this moment forward..."

"Nobody outside this room hears about this letter."

"If there's a traitor..."

"We'll flush him out ourselves."

Everyone nodded.

As the others searched the warehouse, I stepped outside for fresh air.

Ghost quietly followed me.

"You okay?"

I shook my head.

"Dad knew."

"He knew everything."

"He loved you."

"He trusted you."

"He did."

"He trusted you more than he trusted himself."

I looked at Ghost.

"I'm sorry."

"For blaming you all these years."

"You don't owe me an apology."

"I do."

"You kept your promise to my father..."

"And I hated you for it."

Ghost gently lifted my chin.

"I'd do it again if it meant keeping you alive."

"Don't."

"I don't want you sacrificing yourself anymore."

"Then don't ask me to stop loving you."

My eyes filled with tears.

"I won't."

"Because I love you too."

For a moment, the world disappeared.

Ghost pulled me into his arms.

This kiss was different from the first.

Deeper.

Certain.

No hesitation remained between us.

When we finally separated, Ghost rested his forehead against mine.

"No more running," he whispered.

"No more lies."

"Never again."

Before I could answer, gunshots echoed from inside the warehouse.

"Ghost!" Marco shouted.

"We've got company!"

Ghost immediately drew his pistol.

"Stay behind me!"

Black SUVs burst through the warehouse doors.

Armed men poured inside.

But these weren't Reapers.

Their jackets carried a different symbol.

A silver wolf's head.

Ghost's expression turned deadly serious.

"Damn..."

"The Black Wolves found us first."

The war had just become much bigger than anyone imagined.