~𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙲𝙻𝚈𝙳𝙴~

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕚𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟

Bellatrix lay on the pool table, a dopey grin glued to her face as Happy carefully drew five more fleur-de-lis tattoos on her ribcage. The buzz of the tattoo gun was oddly soothing to her, and she relished the feeling of the needle against her skin.

As Happy worked, Bellatrix closed her eyes, letting herself drift into a state of relaxation. The pain was sharp but bearable, and she found herself getting lost in the rhythmic sound of the needle. Each new tattoo was a mark of her past, a reminder of the lives she had taken in the name of the club.

When Happy finished, Bellatrix sat up, admiring the new additions to her collection. The fleur-de-lis tattoos stood out against her skin, a stark reminder of her life as SAMCRO's enforcer. She knew that each tattoo told a story, a story of loyalty, brotherhood, and sacrifice. And she wore them proudly, a testament to her dedication to the club and its values.

As she slid her hair out from underneath her kutte, Bellatrix caught a glint of light on her engagement ring. She paused, her fingers tracing the delicate band and the sparkling opal that adorned it. That reminded her, she and Tig needed to set the date for the wedding,

Adjusting her kutte once more, Bellatrix set off in search of her future husband. "Tiggy! TiggyBear!" she hollered. "Where you at? We need to talk wedding stuff!" Tig emerged from the chapel, chuckling at Bellatrix's loud call. "Jesus, darlin' dear, do you really need to holler like that?" he teased, pulling her close to him. "What's up? Wedding stuff?"

Bellatrix and Tig sat side by side on the worn leather sofa in clubhouse's common room, surrounded by wedding magazines and a laptop displaying various wedding venues. The soft glow of the evening sun bathed the room in a warm, golden light as they discussed their plans.

"So, babe, any thoughts on when we should tie the knot?" Tig asked, turning to Bellatrix with a playful smile.

Bellatrix pondered for a moment, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Well, I was thinking... June," she suggested, a hint of excitement in her voice. "It's warm but not too hot, and the flowers are in full bloom. Plus, it gives us plenty of time to finalize all the details."

Tig nodded in agreement, a sparkle of anticipation in his eyes. "June sounds perfect, punkin'. And hey, it's my birthday month too, so we can make it a double celebration," he added, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Bellatrix grinned, leaning into his embrace. "I love that idea. A June wedding it is then," she declared, sealing their decision with a kiss.

***

Bellatrix stood in the chapel, her fists clenched at her sides, her eyes blazing with anger. She had just learned that she was being paid less than the men in the club, despite doing the same amount of work, if not more. It was unfair, and it made her feel undervalued and disrespected.

"Are you  fuckin' kidding me?" she shouted, her voice echoing through the room. "I bust my ass just as much as any of you, and I deserve to be paid the same!" Her words were met with silence as the men looked at each other, unsure of how to respond.

Tig stepped forward, his expression sympathetic. "We had no idea, babe. We'll fix this, I promise," he said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Bellatrix nodded, her anger still simmering beneath the surface.

"My checks are fuckin' six grand short every month, Alexander! " she yelled, her voice firm. "I won't be treated like second-class just because I'm a woman. I kill people for this club and I get paid like a goddamn prospect. THAT DOG WON'T HUNT, HONEY! I'm not doin' that!"

Bellatrix's frustration bubbled as she left the chapel, feeling the weight of inequality pressing down on her. She barged into Clay's office, her eyes burning with intensity. "Daddy, we need to talk," she said firmly.

Clay looked up, surprised by her serious tone. "What's on your mind, sweetheart?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

"I just found out that I've been getting paid less than the men in the club," she said, her voice tinged with anger. "I've put my life on the line for this club, just like them. I deserve to be treated fairly."

Clay's expression softened as he listened to her. "I'm sorry to hear that, baby girl. I'll look into it right away and make sure you're paid what you deserve," he promised, his tone gentle.

But Bellatrix wasn't satisfied with just promises. "I don't want to be treated like a charity case, Daddy. I want to be respected and valued for the work I do," she insisted, her eyes unwavering.

Clay nodded, understanding her frustration. "I hear you, sweetheart. I'll make sure things are set right. You deserve nothing less," he said, watching as she left his office with determination in her step.

Bellatrix pulled a cigarette from its pack, her hands trembling with anger. "You better mean that, father, or so help me God, you will not like what I do," she said, her voice cold and determined. Clay knew she meant business. Bellatrix was not one to be underestimated, especially when it came to fighting for what she believed in.

*

Bellatrix stormed out to her bike, her anger fueling every movement. She threw a leg over the seat in one swift motion, the roar of the engine matching the fury in her heart. With a sharp tug, she pulled her helmet onto her head, her sunglasses concealing her blazing eyes. Without a backward glance, she revved the engine and tore out of the lot, leaving a trail of dust and discontent in her wake.

***

Tig casually strolled into Clay's office, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a steely resolve. Clay looked up, surprised by the intensity in Tig's eyes.

"What's up, Tig?" Clay asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

Tig slammed a few pay stubs down on Clay's desk. "You need to explain these," he growled.

Clay glanced down at the stubs, his expression unreadable. "What's the problem?" he asked, though he had a sinking feeling he already knew.

"These are my wife's pay stubs," Tig said, his voice low and dangerous. "She's been getting shorted on her checks. Why?"

Clay leaned back in his chair, folding his hands across his chest. "It's just a mistake, Tig. I'll get it sorted out," he said, trying to defuse the situation.

Tig's eyes narrowed. "It better be a mistake, Clay. Because if you're shorting her on purpose, you're gonna have a real problem on your hands," he warned, his voice laced with anger.

Clay held up his hands in surrender. "I'll fix it, Tig. I promise," he said, hoping to appease the enraged biker.

Tig nodded, his jaw clenched. "You'd better," he said, before turning on his heel and storming out of the office. Clay watched him go, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew he had messed up, and he needed to make it right before things got out of hand.

The large curly haired man went to leave, "That's your daughter you're doing this to, remember that, shes going through emotional hell right now, don't make that any worse, asshole."

Tig's words lingered in the air as he left Clay's office, the weight of his warning settling heavily on Clay's shoulders. He knew he had to make things right, not just for the club, but for his daughter. Clay sat back in his chair, his mind racing with thoughts of how to fix the situation and earn back Bellatrix's trust. He couldn't bear the thought of adding to her emotional burden, especially now. With a determined look in his eyes, Clay picked up the phone, ready to make things right.