Page 58 of Triplets for the Rival MC

I wrap an arm around Tori, pulling her close. “You okay?”

“Yes,” she says, letting out a deep breath.

I brush my thumb across her knuckles. “You were fearless,” I tell her.

She looks up at me. “I was afraid,” she admits softly.

“Doesn’t matter,” I say. “You stood up to him anyway, you said what you needed to say.”

Flint steps in front of her, searching her face. “You don’t owe him anything,” he says.

“I know.”

I believe her. If she decides to forgive him, I won’t like it, but I will respect it. It’s her choice to make. We walk back toward the clubhouse together. I keep my hand on her belly, feeling the steady rhythm of movement inside.

Finally, it feels like the war is over. It might not be a clean, simple, happy ending, but it’s over. And now we can focus fully on the future, on our children and the life we want to build for them.

Inside, the brothers relax gradually. Screw mutters about anticlimactic showdowns. Hank shakes his head. Smoke just watches Tori like a protective big brother. Shelly hugs Tori, whispering words of encouragement about her bravery. I love that our friends, our family, care about Tori and our babies as much as we do. They treat her as something sacred, because she is.

I pull her down gently onto the couch once we’re inside. “You sure you’re okay?” I ask again, quieter now.

She nods. “I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive him,” she admits. “But… I’m not afraid of him anymore.”

That’s the victory. Not the collapse of the Raging Bulls or the Ghost Riders winning a decades long war. This, is. Tori finally feeling safe and unafraid. She leans back against me, heavy and warm and alive. I rest both hands over her stomach as one of the babies kicks hard enough to make her laugh.

“I think that one’s yours,” I tease.

She rolls her eyes. “They’re all yours.” She looks between me, Hunter, and Flint.

I grin, the guys smile too. Mine. Ours. Hers. Not his.

As I sit there, feeling the steady strength of the family we built out of war and defiance, I realize something simple and absolute—King lost the moment Tori stopped being afraid. And he knows it. I think he knew it long before she did.

Chapter 30

Tori

Three Months Later

The babies came only a few days after my father’s visit. Perhaps they knew it was finally safe, that we were ready to welcome them into the world, a world of peace we had fought to establish for them. The labor was hard of course, but the joy that came after quickly surpassed the pain.

Three months ago, my world split into three cries. Three tiny voices. Three tiny fists. Three perfect little lives. And somehow, in the chaos of it all, I split too, and became something bigger than just Tori. I became a mother.

The clubhouse is quieter these days. Not silent or empty, never that, but it’s different. The arrival of the babies and the newfound peace made it softer. The roar of engines still echo outside and laughter still spills from the bar downstairs. But now there’s also the rhythmic hum of white noise machines and baby mobiles, the sound of babies crying and giggling. The sound of grown bikers making baby noises. The scent of baby powder and milk mixing with leather and gasoline. My life smells like baby vomit and engine grease and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Boy number one, our serious little observer, is asleep against Flint’s chest right now. His tiny hand fisted into the fabric of the Ghost Riders’ insignia on Flint’s shirt like he already understands he’s one.

Boy number two, Hunter’s biological twin in spirit if not in looks, is dozing in the bassinet after fighting sleep like it insulted him personally.

And our girl, Cyrus’s daughter, lies curled against me, warm and soft, her breath feathering across my collarbone, while Cyrus cooks for us all.

We did the DNA test weeks ago. Not because we needed to know, but because the doctor recommended it, and there was something beautiful about the symmetry of it. It turned out that we were blessed with one biological child each.

Declan Cole is Flint’s son, a solid name for perhaps a future leader. Asher Wilder, Hunter’s son, is wild by name, wild by nature. And Aria Sage is Cyrus’s daughter. She embodies his calm strength even at such a young age. She watches us with quiet, thoughtful eyes even as her brothers are screaming their lungs out.

But from the moment the paternity results came in, nothing changed. My men are all fathers to all three babies.

Hunter had grinned and said, “Guess we all did our part.” Flint kissed my forehead. Cyrus had simply pressed his hand over mine and whispered, “Family.”