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“Everyone, shut the fuck up,” Montana clearly ordered, taking his seat. “Bane, say what you need to say before the fucking Romanos get here.”
August Bane sat up in his chair, opened a medical file and simply spoke as if he were reading from a fucking menu. “Largo Davenport is not a Guillermo.”
“Excuse me?” Fury asked, shocked as my head snapped to Montana, who sat unmoving while he glared at me. “Her mother is Julianna Guillermo.”
“I ran the test three times, Fury. Largo’s mother is Julianna, but neither Largo nor her mother have any genetic DNA to link them to you, your mom, or your grandfather, Armando Guillermo.”
“Then who the fuck are they?”
“What the hell is going on?” Vicious asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Bane replied, closing the file.
“So, we’re back at square one, then?” Shame questioned.
“Not necessarily,” Montana spoke up. “We’ve got the meeting with Romano later tonight. I’m hoping he might shed some light on this mess. At least identify the fucker we killed that attacked Largo.”
“Gonna need Mercy’s head on straight for that,” Malice simply said before taking another bite of his apple.
Glaring at the motherfucker, I kept quiet. I was not rehashing that fucking conversation with him again. My private life had nothing to do with my club life. I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought. I was more than capable of compartmentalizing both.
“I agree,” Montana added. “You need to fix this shit with your wife.”
“Don’t know what you expect me to do,” I challenged.
“Oh, I don’t know, Mercy,” Montana deadpanned. “How about talk to her?”
“I’ve got nothing to say to the bitch.”
Well, that wasn’t technically true.
I had plenty to say.
More like plenty of things I wanted to do to her, but talking wasn’t high on my list. As far as I was concerned, the woman was a runner, a liar, and though she was technically my wife, it was in name only.
“Malice, go get Largo.”
Flinching, I asked, “Why the fuck are you getting her? You heard Bane. The bitch is a nobody.”
“That bitch is a somebody, Mercy,” Montana sneered, pointing his finger at me. “You may not think so, but I do. We all do. You have until the meeting tonight to sort your shit out.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’m taking over,” he said, getting to his feet before he ordered, “Clear the clubhouse!”
Chapter Twelve
Largo
TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains hardcore elements of BDSM, such as punishment, sadism, masochism, and forced play. If you are not comfortable reading elements of BDSM, I highly suggest skipping this chapter.
Sitting at the bar, I nursed a vodka tonic Silver made me as the brothers convened church.
It was the only reason he was here.
Since my punishment and subsequent attack, Mercy had been avoiding me like the plague. Forced to stay in the clubhouse, Mercy went about his days like nothing happened, not even giving me a second thought. He stopped coming by to check on me weeks ago. At least when he did that, I knew he still cared somewhat. The man wouldn’t even look at me anymore. I’ve tried calling him. Sent him several messages, even a few emails, but nothing. The man never responded. He wanted nothing to do with me.
My only inkling of how he felt was the way he spoke to me at the hospital, his words were like a warning inside my head.
