ASHLEY’S POV
I step into the large hallway with Adams.
Once we’re inside, he shuts the door tightly behind us.
He releases my hand, his gaze flicking briefly to Nonna before settling back on me.
“What I’m about to show you… you need to control yourself, Ash,” he says slowly.
“Please, hold it together.”
I nod even if I have no idea what it is.
He leads me to a room at the far end of the hall.
When we enter, two doctors in white coats are already inside.
As soon as we step in, Nonna escorts them out.
The door clicks shut.
And just like that, the atmosphere changes.
My heart starts racing for reasons I can’t explain.
My hands grow cold, and my stomach twists,not from hunger, but from something heavier.
Something darker.
Dread.
My gaze shifts to the man lying on the bed.
His face looks vaguely familiar, but I’m too afraid to step closer.
Nonna stands to my left, Adams to my right.Both of them stare at the motionless body.
No one speaks.
The silence stretches—thick, suffocating,until a sob suddenly breaks it.
Nonna’s hands fly to her mouth, trying to muffle the sound, but it’s too late.
Her body trembles as hot tears stream down her face.
I glance at Adams.He isn’t crying—not yet—but I can see the fight in his eyes.
He bites down on his bottom lip, his expression tightening as his gaze avoids the man on the bed.
Adams opens his mouth then closes it again,His jaw tightens.”….He didn’t make it.”
I turn to him slowly, staring blankly.
“That’s your husband.
Mr.
Andrew Warrick Harrington.”
My breath catches in my throat at once.
“He was shot this morning during a negotiation for the offshore rig,” Adams continues, his voice breaking as tears gather in his eyes.
“The doctors have been trying to save him since 1 a.m.… but they couldn’t.”
”I’m sorry.”
His voice cracks on the last word.
He turns away, shoulders stiff, trying to hold himself together.
I see it clearly now,he’s breaking.I want to say something.
Anything.
But I don’t know how.
I’ve never been in a room with death before.
I don’t know what words belong here.
So I say nothing.Instead, my feet move on their own.Slow.
Careful.
Hesitant.
I walk toward the bed,my eyes tracing his face…He doesn’t look like a monster.
Not like the man everyone feared.
He looks… human.
Too human.
Pale.
Still.
A faint bruise marking his temple.
However, I wait for something to hit me but it doesn’t.
“I’m so sorry, Ash,” Adams says again softly.
“He was a good man. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
A great man.
You would’ve—”
He stops, swallowing hard.
“You would’ve liked him.
Eventually.”
Nonna sobs harder behind me.
“We tried,” Adams continues.
“The doctors… They did everything.
But the bullet…”
He can’t finish.
His hand rises to his mouth, pressing hard as if to hold everything in.
I reach out slowly.
My fingers hover over Warrick’s hand, resting on the sheet.
Cold.
I pull back immediately.He’s really dead.
I should cry.
My husband is dead.
I should be breaking down sobbing, something like what i have read in books and watched in films.
But I feel nothing.Just a hollow space inside me.
A quiet confusion and I wonder…what happens now?
Do I go back home?
Would my father even let me in?
He was glad to get rid of me.
Glad I was finally gone.And now… it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.
And I’m already a widow.
Maybe he was right.
Maybe I bring nothing but bad luck.
I’m only twenty-one.And I’m already Warrick’s widow.
“I’ve called his family,” Adams says after a moment.
“They’ll be here by tomorrow.”
He pauses.
“But it’s your decision when we bury him.
Immediately… or after his family arrives.”
I turn to him, confused.
“Me?”
He nods.
“Yes.
You.”
”Why me?” I ask.
“Shouldn’t the bikers decide?
Doesn’t it have anything to do with me?”
A faint smile touches his lips.”It has everything to do with you, Ash.
You’re his old lady.
Mrs.
Harrington.”
”The Sons of Chaos isn’t like other clubs.
The old lady holds equal authority to her husband.”
He steps closer.
“It’s your right to decide when he’s buried.
Today… or tomorrow.
The choice is yours.”
My throat tightens.
Mrs.
Harrington.
The words feel heavy.
Too heavy.
Everything is happening too fast.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper.
“I don’t know anything about… any of this.”
He glances at Nonna, and she nods.
“We served President Warrick.
Now we serve you.”
I don’t even realize when I nod back.
A moment later, Adams walks to the corner of the room and brings out a small box.
It looks old and worn out.
He opens it slowly and my heart drops.
A dagger and a gun.
I take a step back instinctively.He closes the box and gestures toward me.
“Come.”
I hesitate—then follow, Nonna close behind me.
Seconds later, we step back into the hall.Adams opens the door.
Every biker rises to their feet instantly.
“What happened?
Where’s the president?” Matt demands instantly.
Adams says nothing at first.Then he throws the dagger and gun onto the floor.
They clatter loudly against the hardwood, spinning before settling.
Silence crashes over the room.Every eye locks onto the weapons.
Understanding spreads—fast and heavy.
Someone inhales sharply.
Another man clenches his jaw so tight I can hear it grind.
Matt steps forward, staring down at them, his face draining of color.
“When?” he asks through gritted teeths.
“Early this morning,” Adams replies.
“A negotiation went wrong.
He was shot… and died at 1 a.m.”
A wave of grief ripples through the room.
Some men lower their heads.
Others turn away.
Matt’s fists clench.”Where’s his body?”
”The old lady has decided he will be buried tomorrow,” Adams announces and a deep wave of silence crashes over everyone.
Then—gasp ripple through the crowd.
“What old lady?” Matt snaps.
“That bitch doesn’t make decisions here!”
”Watch your tone, Matt,” Adams warns coldly.
“She is Mr.
Warrick’s wife.
The agreement was signed yesterday.”
”Bullshit.” Matt steps forward, anger overtaking grief.
“That brat is NOT—”
”Watch your mouth.” Adams’ voice turns to ice.
Matt’s nostrils flare.
“She’s a spoiled brat.
I don’t accept her.
None of us do.
Warrick never introduced her to anyone or the church!”
”She’s a murderer.
I’ll never follow her orders.”
”She is Mrs.
Harrington now,” Adams cuts in sharply.
“And she holds every right given to the president’s wife under SOC law.”
”Law?” Matt scoffs.
“What the fuck do a normal civilian like you know about SOC laws?
The prez never mentioned marriage.
Never brought her to church.
Never introduced her to the VP so she’s no old lady!”
He gestures toward the man at the far end,head bowed, hands covering his face.
“Rip!”His voice cracks through the room.
“What do you have to say about this?
A murderer coming in here to make rules?”