icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

My Fiancé Ran, So I Took His Father Instead

Chapter 7 

Word Count: 626    |    Released on: 04/09/2026

low

o the club's Sunday feast. It was

ed, a silent piece of armor. Frederick gave m

. Every eye was on us. His hand rested on the small of my back

ub was whispering. Colby had been spotted off the I-10, holed up in a motel with

Let hi

She stood and pulled me into the seat beside her, with Frede

r glass for attention. She produ

tled on black satin, was a vintage ring, intricate and beautiful. "This belong

e than jewelry; it was a symbol of

ick. He gave me a s

ed Vivian to slide the ring on

istles. Most of the members seemed

ot ev

sauntered over, a glass of whiskey in her hand. "You must have had

sult, a public insinuation that I

ederick's jaw tightened

his arm, stopping hi

le. "Thank you for your concern, Bla

hand to admire the

ut the President's private life, perhaps you should be mor

toward the corner where a su

As his... elder," I savored the word, "I suppose I'l

urning her insult back on her and asserting

s, "the honor of the Serpents of Chaos is more im

was speechless. The other Old Ladies around her loo

nded myself, I had

eamed wi

breath hot against my ear.

praise sent a sh

ted. And through it all, Colby's empty chair sat

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open
My Fiancé Ran, So I Took His Father Instead
My Fiancé Ran, So I Took His Father Instead
“Tonight was supposed to be my grand celebration, my public union with Colby Carlisle, the Vice President of the Serpents of Chaos MC. But when the spotlights hit me, he wasn't waiting at the stage. Instead, he was plastered against a half-naked club girl, letting her possessively trace his silver VP patch for everyone to see. Hundreds of bikers erupted in roaring laughter, watching me become the ultimate punchline. The crowd sneered, whispering that I was just a pathetic pawn in a club deal who couldn't even keep her man. Colby didn't even look guilty. He just pressed a wet kiss to the girl's neck, glared at me with utter disgust, and grabbed a microphone. "Harlow, don't make a scene. Get the hell off the stage." My nails dug into my palms until the sharp sting kept me upright. Did they really think I was just some fragile, clueless girl from a fallen family? Did Colby honestly believe I would just run away crying, accepting my fate as his discarded property? I didn't shed a single tear, nor did I run. I straightened my spine, walked right up to the emcee's microphone, and cited an obscure, dusty club law to claim absolute sanctuary. "The protector I choose is the President." I claimed his adoptive father, the undisputed king of the underworld.”