Weak. Not worthy of the patch. A complete disgrace. Not my President. These were just a few of the whisperings I’d overheard since taking over as President of the Devil’s Armada MC. I didn’t blame the club for feeling that way. I am a disgrace. I should’ve never been patched in as Prez in the first place. The club needed someone stronger than me, someone not damaged. Because that’s ultimately what I was… damaged goods. But now I’ve let things get too out of hand. The club went from being on the right side of the law to outlaws overnight, wearing that one percent patch like it had always been there. I didn’t know how to stop it from happening, and now we’re knee deep in a situation I don’t think we could survive. One of our own had turned on us, and now he was creating an army to bring us down. My only hope to right all the wrongs I created is to surrender to everything I’ve bottled up inside and release the devil I’d caged away for the last eight years. It was time to get my shit together and be the President the Devil’s Armada desperately needed. Only it may be too late. My club was in shambles, my father’s health was rapidly deteriorating, and the only person that helped me see any light in all this darkness was ready to slit my throat while I sleep. I lost her for choosing a side, and now I was desperate to get her back. But I didn’t know if she’d accept me, not with the pending war looming on the horizon, and the secret I was keeping that would shatter my whole world forever.