Page 47 of Triplets for the Rival MC

Her eyes shine with unshed tears. Cyrus nudges her gently toward the front. “Your turn,” he says softly, squeezing her hand comfortingly.

She looks briefly terrified, she takes a deep breath, and meets my eyes. She steadies. She steps forward, hands resting protectively over her stomach, a sight I already love.

“I didn’t grow up knowing what this felt like,” she begins, voice trembling slightly before strengthening. “Family.” The room goes silent, holding onto every word. She’s a natural leader, even if she doesn’t know it.

“My whole life, I was told I was… expendable.” A muscle in my jaw tightens. “Useful only when I served someone else’s purpose.” A few brothers shift uncomfortably. They know who she means, and they want to punish him as much as we do.

“But here?” She glances around, taking in every patched jacket, every scarred face. “Here, I finally belong. I’m loved.” Her voice breaks.

Shelly wipes at her own eyes, smiling proudly. Tori sees it and smiles back.

“I didn’t expect to find a family here,” Tori continues. “I didn’t deserve it at first.”

Hunter stiffens beside me, resisting the urge to correct her. She presses on. “I came here angry. Hurt. Looking to prove something. Looking for vengeance and escape.” She meets my eyes. “And I found something better. I found three men who love me without conditions. And together, we created our own family, and three little heartbeats.” She swallows hard. “But I also found all of you. I found brothers and sisters who protect me as if I matter.”

“You do matter,” Smoke calls out.

“Damn right,” Hank adds gruffly.

She laughs through tears. “I finally have the family I always dreamed of,” she says softly. “And I’ll fight just as hard to protect it as you do every day. I will take down the Raging Bulls with you, not for vengeance, but to protect our family and to fight for what is right.” The silence is thick and reverent. “I love you all, and I am honored to be a Ghost Rider,” she finishes simply.

The room erupts into applause and cheers. Hunter kisses her temple. Cyrus wraps an arm around her shoulders. I step forward and pull her into me. For a moment, it’s just us. The noise fades, and the smell of beer, sweat, and leather is overwhelmed by Tori’s scent as I breathe her in. She feels warm and solid against me. She’s real. I can’t believe she’s mine. I never thought this moment would come, and I have never felt such unbridled joy.

Music kicks up from the speakers, classic rock vibrating through the floorboards. The bar opens fully as people start celebrating in earnest. Bottles clink together, and the sounds of chatting and laughter swell.

Screw limps toward us again, grinning. “Prez, you sure you can handle triplets?”

I arch a brow. “I handle this club, don’t I?”

“Barely,” Drifter mutters.

The teasing feels normal. Good. I don’t even reprimand them for it; I’m in such a good mood. Shelly hugs Tori tight, whispering something that makes her smile through fresh tears. I watch Tori move through the room, accepting congratulations, laughing at inappropriate jokes, glowing under every look of admiration. Her first day as my old lady, and she’s already commanding the room. She’s going to make a fine club queen.

God, I’m lucky.

Hunter claps my shoulder. “Can’t keep your eyes off her.”

“Yeah,” I admit.

“Same here. She’s good at it.”

“She’s perfect.”

Cyrus joins us, eyes softer than I’ve ever seen them. “We’re really doing this.”

“Yeah,” I say again. “It’s official, we’ve got an old lady, and we’re gonna be dads.”

Fatherhood. The word used to feel abstract, distant, something other men did, men who led quieter lives. Now it feels like a loaded weapon in my chest, dangerous and powerful all at once. I’ve never been more scared in my life, or happy. Three babies. Three fragile lives that depend on me.

The music grows louder. Screw is dancing badly with one of the bunnies while Hank nurses a beer, his arm slung over Shelly’s shoulders. Red and Smoke argue over something near the pool table.

Everything is normal, and the atmosphere is more relaxed than it has been in weeks. But my eyes keep drifting to the windows. To the doors where the enemy could come barreling through at any minute. As they swing open, I feel relief to see familiar faces entering. My gaze looks out into the shadows of the parking lot, where bikes line up like sentries. The Raging Bulls aren’t here; they haven’t come yet. That doesn’t mean they won’t. If King decides to strike during a gathering like this—

My jaw tightens. The damage would be catastrophic. No MC would dare attack another on a day of celebration, and yet, King has no moral code. He’d be more likely to strike when it’s least expected, especially if he knew what we’re celebrating.

I step toward the front windows casually, scanning the perimeter. Nothing unusual. Just the fading light and the hum of crickets starting up. But I can’t shake the nervous tension that lies under my skin—the sense of foreboding. When I turn back, Tori is watching me closely. She always knows when my mind shifts into war mode. Her brow furrows with concern, and I feel bad for making her worry. She should be able to relax and enjoy the celebration. I walk back to her and cup her face gently.

“Hey,” she says softly.