Happy couldn't get her out of his fucking head. The way her ass was hugged by those jeans, her fat tits pushed up, and those god damned tattoos. Her knife pushed into his neck, making his dick so hard he thought his zipper was going to pop. He was heated and absolutely mesmerized. She moved like a fucking dancer, smooth and fluid like she was hearing her own music in her head.

All of it got his dick hard, and every time she popped into his head, it got harder. He wanted to chase her down and wrap his hand around her throat while she fought and screamed as he made her come a dozen times. In his dreams, she couldn't walk or remember any name but his by the time he was finished with her.

He knew he needed to see her again, get her out of his mind, and hopefully onto his dick.

"Where you going, Hap?" Jax called out from the bar with a beautiful blonde on his arm.

"A ride," he grunted before walking out of the clubhouse with the keys to his bike.

Jax didn't question him. He just turned back to the pretty little blonde in his arms and made her giggle. Happy wished he was so easily distracted, but stepping out into the fresh air steeled his resolve.

He needed to see her. Needed to talk to her.

His bike sat across the lot, shining in the late afternoon sun, looking like freedom on wheels. Straddling his beauty between his legs felt like home. It felt like it was where he belonged. When she purred under him, it made the tension in his body float away as he roared down the road.

Usually, as he drove, he could appreciate his surroundings and the quiet, but today, he was single-minded and in no mood to wait. Happy sped down the quiet streets, breaking every traffic law before he turned into her neighborhood.

Her beautiful face popped into view while he slowed and coasted to a crawl beside her. She was wearing sweats and a baggy shirt and was still perfect. He shut off his bike when she turned to him, "Hello," he rumbled out.

She turned to him with raised brows, "Hey, handsy. How's the neck?"

"Fine. Where you going?"

Her eyes narrowed, and her hip cocked, "Appointment."

Curiosity was killing him, "Want a ride?"

She regarded him skeptically, "Are you going to kidnap me?"

He shook his head.

"Alright," She gave him the address and straddled his bike behind him. Her arms wrapped around his waist, resting on his hips as her head settled between his shoulder blades. He kicked his bike back to life and hoped like hell she didn't hear him groan over the rumble of his bike.

Driving was the last thing on his mind as he went through town. He wanted her to drop her hands lower and pop his cock out of his jeans. He took the long way and kept her wrapped around him, savoring the feeling of her tits pressed against his back.

Their ride was over way too soon, in his opinion. He scowled at the Tattoo shop he parked in front of and decided to push his luck, "Got a knife on you today?" he mumbled.

She grinned, "You want to see it again?"

Happy couldn't help but nod. Damn right, he wanted to see it even if she was thinking of stabbing him with it.

She reached into her shirt and pulled at her blade. About five inches long and sharp. It glittered in the light as she waved it around, holding it up toward his face so he could see it.

"Why do you need it?"

She shrugged and placed it back under her shirt before hopping off his bike and wiggling her ass into the tattoo shop. Happy followed like a lost puppy hypnotized by her stunning body and crazy personality.

"Hello," a young blue-haired woman said from behind the counter, "You Veila?"

"Yep."

Happy watched as she filled out paperwork and followed her to the back. He watched her pull her sweats down and expose a blank patch on her hip and ass. His mouth watered. He wanted to bite it.

Instead, he sat silently, watching her for over three hours. She took the needle like a champ. Not a single whimper or complaint slipped past her sweet lips. If he wasn't attracted to her before, he was now, even more so after another three hours when she was paying.

"Ride?" he asked when they stepped outside the shop into the dark.

She looked him over carefully, "Yeah."

He led her to his bike, and they got on together. Her arms settled around his waist again as they rode in silence. He took the long way again, appreciating the silence with her by his side.

When they arrived at her home, he helped her off. As her hand closed around him, he felt the warmth of her body travel through his own, setting off a chain reaction in his body. He kept her hand in his as they walked together to her door.

Veila looked up into his eyes, a sweet golden brown color, almost like brownies, crisp leaves in the fall, or the most delicious mole his mother used to make him when he was younger.

His fingers trailed over her hip, "Did it hurt?" he whispered, his gaze never leaving hers.

She laughed lightly, rolling her eyes, "What? When I fell from heaven."

He raised his brow in confusion, "No, the tattoo."

"Ah. It hurt like a son of a bitch."

Now he was even more confused, "But you didn't cry."

"I asked him to do it and paid for it. No way was I going to bitch out," she shrugged like it explained everything.

It didn't. It raised more questions than anything and left him wanting to know more.

"Hmm," He dropped her hand and walked away, contemplating what she was. Who she is.

Veila watched him walk away and get on his bike. Happy looked back only once. They stared at each other for a moment before he drove away. All she could think of was how weird he was.

Quiet, intimidating, and strange. With a name like Happy, shouldn't he smile more? Talk more? It was almost like talking to a stone wall. Staring into dark brown eyes, almost black in any light. He seemed always to be deep in thought, often staring into space.

Thoughts of him invaded her mind.

She wanted to gut him for laying a hand on her without permission, but a part of her wanted to know more, to understand him. She shook her head, banishing her thoughts of him. She had more important things to deal with. G was calling soon, and she needed to mentally prepare to answer the phone.

They weren't supposed to deal with him, but he always found an excuse to call or fly over and worm his way into her life.

It was like he wanted to torture her in any way he could, but she was strong. She could handle him. They were going to talk business, and after that, she would put him out of her mind and never let him bother her again.

She wouldn't let him break her again. No one would break her again. Deep down, she knew that it would be fine. It was only a phone call. Not like he could see or intimidate her.

It filled her mind as the hours passed slowly. She applied for jobs, any available job. That was why she was there, to begin with. To move on while her brother learned the ropes. Then, when he was ready, she would retire in this quiet town and never look back.

The clock struck five as the sun began to climb in the sky, but the phone did not ring. She waited another twenty minutes before climbing into bed and cuddling into fluffy blankets and pillows.

It wasn't until seven in the morning when the phone went off. It rang loudly and vibrated violently against her nightstand. Angrily she snatched the phone up, "Who do you think you fucking are?" she growled without opening her eyes.

"Aww, wee lass, did I wake you?" G purred into her ear, his Irish accent thick and heavy.

"Tell me what you want so I can go back to bed."

"Always about business," he groaned, "Can't we catch up? Like old times?"

"No. Get to the point before I hang up."

He sighed, "Your brother is fucking idiot. Your men lost one of our largest shipments. We need payment. Now," His friendly tone was gone, replaced with frustration and anger.

"How much?"

"Eight hundred thousand."

Veila could hear the smile in his voice as if he was pleased to have shocked her into silence.

"Fine. Give us a few months to work it out."

"Months? It's already been months. Your brother promised us payment on the twenty-second of this month."

"That's three weeks away."

"Your brother had six months. Complain to him."

Her blood was boiling now, "You'll get your money," before he could jab in anything else, she hung up. Her body was shaking with rage.

In her blind fury, she booked her ticket back to New York. Her suitcase was packed by noon, and she was leaving in a few hours, running on no sleep, only anger.

No one back home knew she was returning, and that's exactly how she wanted it. The phone call with G had her shaking with rage. Her brother had lost the shipment months ago while she was still home.

She could have helped him, but he kept it a secret instead. Letting it fester like a wound as the debt built up and up.

Veila was bubbling with anger, ready to snap, when ten rolled around, and her cab pulled up to the curb. A new driver smiled at her as she locked her door.

At least this was going to be better, she thought to herself.

"Where you going, sweet stuff?" A deep, rumbling voice called out to her.

Turning only a fraction, she saw Jax and Opie standing near the curb. Her eyes rolled of their own accord, and she did her best to ignore them. That was until Opie blocked her path, "Where are you going?"

With the best resting bitch face she'd ever conjured, she glared, "A trip."

His tough-guy act cracked with his smile, and Jax slid in to help her load her bag into the cab, "My mom sent us over to ask you to dinner tomorrow night."

Veila sighed. Of course, Gemma would want her to go over for dinner, "I won't be back until next Saturday."

Jax's low whistle rang out as the trunk slammed, "Why so long?"

"My brother is in the hospital," she lied. Was it a lie, though, if she was going to put her brother in the hospital?

Opie drew her attention as his massive body blocked out the sun, "What happened?"

A frown creased Jax's face, "Is he okay?"

"He's fine. I just have to take care of a few things."

They shared a look that told her they didn't believe her and nodded, "Well, get going. We'll look after your house while you're gone."

"I'll tell Gemma you'll come to dinner when you're back next week."

Veila nodded, "Thanks."

Almost like a gentleman, Opie opened her door and helped her inside before shutting it, "Have a good flight."

The taxi driver was off a moment later in blessed silence. The whole ride was silent, allowing her to gather her scrambled thoughts. The airport, however, was not silent. It was like everyone was trying to travel on the same day. The plane ride involved three babies, a never-ending string of terrible Hallmark movies, and middle-aged women crying.

As the plane touched down in New York, her head was pounding like a teenager playing the drums for the first time, and she could not be happier to climb inside another cab. The driver was silent, uninterested in her or her life, and when they arrived, she tipped him an extra fifty.

The tower was just as beautiful as she remembered, but she didn't have time to reminisce.

The doorman, Daniel, bowed, "Ms. Sokolova, we weren't expecting you."

"Don't worry, no one was, and I would appreciate it staying that way."

He caught her drift and nodded, "Yes, ma'am."

Quickly, the door opened, revealing a calming golden light blanketing the inside. She strutted in with her back straight and her shoulders back, sending cold looks to anyone brave enough to meet her gaze.

Their building manager, George, smiled pleasantly, "Ms. Sokolova, what a surprise! What brought you back so soon?"

"Business."

"I'll alert your brother right away."

Before he could turn, she waved it away, "No, thank you. Please take me up to the office."

"Floor seventy, correct?"

"Yes, George. Thank you," she smiled gratefully and slipped him a twenty as he rode with her to the requested floor. The elevator let her out onto the private floor. He smiled a farewell and left her alone to do her 'business.'

The elegant eggshell walls lined with mediocre art led her to the office. As she approached, she came across her favorite people. Unable to help herself, she screeched, "Gregori, Sasha!"

"Veila?" Their deep, thick Russian accents questioned as their heads turned, seeking her out.

"Of course! Who were you expecting?"

Gregori stood and scooped her into his arms, "Not you."

"You're supposed to be in California," Sasha scolded as he stole her from his friend.

A wicked smile curled her lips, "I need to see Liam."

Matching frowns downed their expressions, "He is in a meeting," Sasha explained, but a smile twitched at his lips.

"It's nearly midnight," her eyes narrowed, "Is he fucking some stripper again?"

They shrugged, letting her know everything she needed.

"That son of a bitch. Come with me. I need your help."

"With what?"

"Just follow me, and you'll see," She promised, "Can I trust you?"

They saluted with their right fist over their hearts, "Da. You know our loyalty lies with you."

"Good. We have business."

They followed her into the main office, flanking her on either side. It reminded her of old times when she would walk these halls and demand attention. Her thoughts are interrupted by whiny, screeching, and moaning, 'Oh God' as they push the door to the office open wide.

Unsurprisingly her brother sat in her father's chair with a blonde bitch bouncing on his dick, oblivious to their presence.

Feeling frustrated and beyond reason, Veila slammed the door, "Don't stop on my account," She announced, creeping around the edge of the dim room.

A shrill scream echoed out as the whore fell to the floor as she tried to cover herself.

"Shit, V. What are you doing here?" her brother stammered, fixing himself as the woman scooped up her clothes and ran for the door.

"I came to say hello, Liam. Can't a sister drop in?"

He frowned, "That isn't you, V."

"I chatted with G. After that, I knew I was needed here."

"Fuck," he ran his fingers through his hair, "It's not that bad, I promise. What did Galen tell you?"

His name grated on her raw nerves, "Everything," She hissed, pulling an old baseball bat from behind the chair, innocently sitting in the corner of the room.

"I can explain! I have over half the money already," he panicked, backing away as if she were a wild animal. At this moment, she might have been. He stumbled over the chair, nearly falling to the floor as she stalked him.

She gestured with her bat to her brother, "Sasha, Gregori."

They moved together quicker than lightning and snatched up both his arms, presenting him to her as he begged for her to listen to him.

Stalking closer, she asked, "Why were the guns lost in the first place?"

Her brother's eyes widened, "Well… you see… they.."

Veila waited patiently. She tried, but the more he stumbled over his words, the angrier she got.

"They aren't lost," he yelled, flinching away from her.

Her final straw for him went up in flames, "What do you mean they're not lost?" she asked, her voice cold and distant.

Gregori twisted her brother's arm back, forcing a cry to break his lips like music.

"I thought they would forgive me and send another shipment," another scream broke free, "I thought I could make us more money."

She was on him in an instant, her bat swinging for his knees, "You betrayed the IRA!" Her words were intensified with each swing between them, "You. Stupid. Reckless. Idiot."

By now, all that could be heard were his screams. Gregori and Sasha dropped him now that his legs were broken and stood back to watch as their dearest friend pounded into her brother, bruising and ripping at his skin.

Filled with bloodlust now, she pulled out the blade from under the nearby rug and held it to his neck as he cried, "Where are they, Liam?"

"Warehouse on the edge of the city, near the water," he admitted as tears fell down his face, "I'm sorry, V…"

"Sasha, send our people there. Gregori call Galen and tell him his shipment was found but leave out the details."

"Da," they replied in unison, moving quickly toward the door to follow her orders and leave her to finish her business in peace.

"Oh, and Sasha call our doctor. We'll need him soon," She ordered, calmly pulling the knife down her brother's neck deep enough to scar but not kill him. She was pissed, but she didn't want her brother dead.

Her men left without a word. Gregori would remain close but not interfere with her brother's punishment. He would simply relish joyfully in his screams from the other side of the door until he was called.

Veila dug her knife tip under the edge of the tattoo on his bicep, careful not to go too deep as she sliced it from his body. She worked fast, not wanting him to miss all the fun as she cut away his family art piece by piece until he was a blubbering mess.

They both knew what this meant.

He was finished.

Out of the business. Out of the family.

Her brother had struggled and screamed, trying to get out from under her knife, but he was never able to best her in things like this. It was why their father left her the business in the first place. She was simply better at it.

Her clothes were soaked in blood, and her hands were dripping with it as her brother sobbed. Looking deep inside herself, she tried to find an ounce of pity for him and came up empty.

He did this to himself.

Veila pushed off from her brother's limp, sticky form until she was standing over him. Her cold eyes watched him as their doctor strode into the room. She pointed at her brother.

The older man moved quickly, patching him up and sedating him as he finished his treatment.

Before the man could leave, Veila held up her hand and kneeled on the ground. She forced her brother's mouth open and held his tongue as she cut it from his body. He would never lie to anyone again.

Scrambling, the doctor took care of business before collapsing back on his ass.

Veila reached into the desk and took out ten thousand dollars under a hidden panel in the top drawer. She tossed it to him, "Thank you."

He gathered his supplies and hurried from the room before he was required to do anything else.

Veila gathered the bits of flesh and tongue safely in a plastic bag. They would make a wonderful treat for Sasha's dog.