Mae's thoughts spiraled as she made her way through the crowded streets after leaving Hell's Angels. The night air was crisp, but it did little to calm the storm raging inside her. Father Charlie knew who she was. He had recognized her. Every wall she had built, every barrier she had raised to keep her past hidden, was beginning to crumble.

She had spent years trying to distance herself from Seraphina, and in a single moment, all of that effort was unraveling. The weight of his gaze still lingered on her, the way he had spoken her name—Seraphina—as though it held a world of memories and regret.

Mae pulled her jacket tighter around her as she walked, her mind racing. What was she supposed to do now? Confronting Father Charlie had been inevitable, but she hadn't expected it to happen so soon. And she hadn't expected it to hurt so much.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her back to the present. It was Frank.

"We need to meet now. Urgent."

Mae's stomach twisted as she read the message. Something wasn't right. Frank was always the calm, steady one, but his recent messages had been filled with tension and urgency. Whatever was happening behind the scenes at Hell's Angels was growing more dangerous by the day, and Mae knew she couldn't afford to ignore it.

She made her way to the familiar alleyway where they always met. The shadows seemed deeper tonight, the city's usual hum quieter, almost as if the night itself was holding its breath.

Frank was already there when she arrived, pacing back and forth, his expression more anxious than she'd ever seen it. The moment he saw her, he stopped and walked toward her, his voice low and urgent.

"They're closing in, Mae," he said, his eyes darting around as if expecting someone to jump out of the shadows. "I've been hearing things—people are talking about you. The people behind the club, the ones who run everything from the shadows... they know who you are."

Mae's heart sank. She had feared this moment, but hearing Frank say it out loud made it all too real. "How much do they know?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Everything," Frank replied, his voice tense. "Your past, why you left the convent, who you used to be. They've been watching you for a while, waiting for the right moment."

Mae clenched her fists, anger and fear bubbling up inside her. She had worked so hard to keep her identity hidden, to leave Seraphina behind, but it seemed like no matter how far she ran, her past was always one step behind.

"What do they want from me?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Frank glanced around the alley again before speaking. "Control. They want you to keep performing, to stay under their thumb. But it's more than that. They see you as a valuable asset, someone they can manipulate and use for their own gain. If you try to leave, if you try to fight back..."

Mae didn't need him to finish the sentence. She knew exactly what he meant. The people who ran Hell's Angels weren't just club owners—they were part of something much darker, something that went far beyond the glitzy facade of the club. And once they had their hooks in someone, they didn't let go.

"We have to figure something out," Mae said, her voice shaking. "I can't let them control me. I won't."

Frank nodded, but his expression remained grim. "It's not going to be easy. These people don't play fair. They have connections everywhere. If you make one wrong move, they'll ruin you."

Mae's mind raced as she tried to think of a way out. She had spent years building a new life, but it seemed like the walls were closing in on her from all sides. Father Charlie knew her secret. The people behind Hell's Angels were watching her. There was no escape.

"I'll talk to Father Charlie," Mae said suddenly, the idea taking shape in her mind. "Maybe he can help."

Frank's eyes widened in alarm. "Are you sure that's a good idea? He's part of your past, Mae. If he gets involved—"

"He already is," Mae interrupted, her voice firm. "He knows who I am, Frank. He's not going to just walk away. If there's even a chance that he can help, I have to take it."

Frank hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Alright. But be careful. If they find out you're talking to him, they'll use it against you."

Mae nodded, her resolve hardening. She had come too far to let everything fall apart now. She wouldn't let them control her. She wouldn't let them destroy the life she had built.

The next night, Mae arrived at Hell's Angels earlier than usual, her heart pounding as she made her way through the club. She needed to talk to Father Charlie, to figure out what he was planning to do now that he knew who she really was.

As she entered the bar area, she spotted him sitting at the same booth in the back, his face illuminated by the dim light. He looked just as troubled as she felt, his eyes distant as he stared down at his drink.

Mae took a deep breath and walked toward him, her pulse quickening with each step. She had no idea how this conversation would go, but she knew she couldn't avoid it any longer.

"Father," she said softly as she approached the booth.

Father Charlie looked up, his eyes locking with hers. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the tension between them thick and suffocating. Finally, he gestured to the seat across from him.

"Sit," he said quietly.

Mae slid into the booth, her hands trembling slightly as she folded them in her lap. She didn't know where to start, how to explain everything that had happened since she left the convent. But Father Charlie was the first to break the silence.

"You were never meant for this," he said, his voice filled with a quiet sadness. "What happened to you, Seraphina?"

Mae flinched at the sound of her old name, the name she had tried so hard to leave behind. "I had to survive," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I had to make choices. Choices I'm not proud of, but they kept me alive."

Father Charlie's gaze softened, but there was still a deep sadness in his eyes. "You could have come to me. You didn't have to face this alone."

Mae shook her head, her chest tightening with emotion. "I couldn't. I didn't belong in that world anymore, Father. I couldn't be the person everyone wanted me to be."

There was a long pause, the air between them heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Father Charlie leaned forward, his voice gentle but firm.

"I don't know everything that's happened to you, but I do know one thing—you don't have to keep running. You don't have to keep hiding."

Mae's heart twisted at his words. She wanted to believe him, but the reality was far more complicated than he understood.

"It's not that simple," she said, her voice cracking. "The people who run this club... they're dangerous. If they find out you're involved, they'll come after you, too."

Father Charlie's expression hardened, a resolve settling in his eyes. "Then we fight them. Together."

Mae stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never imagined that he would offer to stand by her, to help her in this fight. But as she looked into his eyes, she realized that he wasn't just offering help—he was offering her a way out.

A way to finally stop running.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Father Charlie nodded, his expression unwavering. "I'm not letting you face this alone, Seraphina. Not anymore."

Mae's breath caught in her throat, the weight of his words sinking in. For the first time in years, she felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way out of this after all.

And she wouldn't have to do it alone.

-

Mae walked through the darkened alley behind Hell's Angels, her mind still whirling with the weight of her decision. She had agreed to let Father Charlie help her, but something gnawed at the back of her mind. There was a dissonance between the man she had once known and the one who stood before her now.

Still, she had no choice. The people behind the club—the ones pulling the strings—were too powerful for her to take on alone. If there was anyone she could trust to help, it was Father Charlie. Or so she hoped.

But the question of why he had come back into her life still lingered. He hadn't been looking for her, or so he said. But what if he had? What if, on some level, he had been drawn here by something more than coincidence? Mae pushed the thought aside, telling herself it didn't matter now. She needed help, and Charlie had offered it.

As they stepped out onto the street, Mae glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. His expression was calm, but there was an edge to him she hadn't noticed before. Perhaps it was the weight of what he was willing to do for her, or maybe it was something darker—something that made her uneasy.

"Where do we start?" she asked quietly, breaking the silence.

Father Charlie didn't hesitate. "We need to figure out who's behind the threats, the manipulation. You've been targeted for a reason, and we need to uncover why."

Mae nodded, though the knot in her stomach tightened. She had suspected from the start that the people behind Hell's Angels knew more about her than they were letting on. But now, with Father Charlie involved, everything felt more complicated. She wasn't just protecting herself anymore—she was putting him in the line of fire, too.

As they made their way through the city streets, Father Charlie's presence beside her brought an odd mix of comfort and unease. He had once been the person she trusted most, but that trust had been broken when she left the convent. Now, he was offering to help her, to fight against forces he barely understood. But could she trust him again?

Or worse—was she missing something?

The thought lingered in the back of her mind, but she pushed it away. She had to focus on the immediate threat—the people behind Hell's Angels. If they were as powerful as Frank had warned, they wouldn't hesitate to destroy anyone who got in their way.

Back at her apartment later that night, Mae found herself staring out the window, lost in thought. The city stretched out before her, its lights flickering like stars against the night sky. But the beauty of it felt hollow, tainted by the danger that lurked just beneath the surface.

Father Charlie had left after walking her home, his presence still lingering in the air around her. She had expected to feel more at ease now that they were working together, but the unease only grew. There was something off about the way he spoke, about how quickly he had offered to help. He was too calm, too composed for someone who had just stepped into a world as dark as Hell's Angels.

Mae shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She was overthinking things, letting her paranoia get the best of her. Father Charlie was here to help—he had said as much, and she needed to trust him. There was no other option.

Her phone buzzed on the table, pulling her from her thoughts. It was a message from Frank.

"Any progress with him? We need to stay ahead."

Mae stared at the message, her mind racing. Frank had been her guide through the chaos of the club, the one person she could rely on for information. But even he didn't know about Father Charlie's past, about how deeply their connection ran.

She typed out a quick response. "We're working on it. Stay low for now."

Setting the phone down, Mae exhaled slowly. She needed a plan, a way to get ahead of the people pulling the strings at Hell's Angels before they closed in. But for now, all she could do was wait.

The next few days passed in a blur of tension and uncertainty. Mae and Father Charlie met several times, each conversation circling around the same questions: who was behind the threats, and how could they take them down? But with every passing day, Mae's unease grew. There were moments when Charlie seemed distant, his thoughts elsewhere, as if he knew more than he was letting on.

And then there were the little things—how he knew the layout of the club too well, how he seemed unfazed by the power the owners held over everyone. It was as if he wasn't afraid of them at all.

One evening, after another long day of back-and-forth with Charlie, Mae found herself staring at him across the table, her suspicion growing.

"Why are you so calm about all this?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

Father Charlie blinked, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

Mae leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "You're not acting like someone who's new to this world. You're too... collected. Why aren't you more worried?"

He hesitated for a moment, then smiled softly. "I've seen a lot in my time, Seraphina. More than you know. Fear doesn't help anyone."

Mae frowned, but before she could press him further, her phone buzzed again. It was another message from Frank.

"Watch yourself. Rumors are flying."

Her stomach twisted as she read the words. The rumors meant one thing—people were talking, and when people talked, the truth had a way of slipping through the cracks.

"We need to be careful," Mae said, her voice tense. "If they find out you're helping me—"

"They won't," Charlie interrupted, his tone firm. "I won't let that happen."

Mae stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. There was something in his eyes, something she couldn't quite place. Was it confidence, or was it something darker?

The uneasy feeling settled over her again, but she pushed it down. She didn't have the luxury of second-guessing him now. They had to focus on the plan—finding out who was behind the club's shadowy operations and taking them down before it was too late.

But as Mae left the table that night, the weight of Charlie's gaze still lingered on her, and for the first time, she wondered if trusting him had been the right choice.