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My Fiancé Ran, So I Took His Father Instead

Chapter 8 

Word Count: 588    |    Released on: 04/09/2026

"Prez" Car

our room. My mother had requested

sandalwood. She was running a string of rosary beads throug

said, gesturing to the

elf a whiske

rlow?" she asked, gettin

to fight. I thought of her facing down Blair, her words

h approval. "She's a wolf in sheep's clothing. Colby is a

saying nothing. My mother wa

"These women have grown soft. They've forgotten what it means to be t

Lady, a legend in her own right, was a pointed r

ition. She's young, with no allies. Colby will see her as a threat, and wom

ght. I had pulled Harlow into this world. It was

inal. "A man who would so casually discard his honor, and th

e unwavering. "I think it

VP required a vote at Church, but my mothe

against him now would create more

ow would do. I wanted to see just how shar

ion for now. She put down her beads

with a mother's plea. "The business with Colby

n wronged. You made her your Ol

ain. "I will not see anothe

e in her eyes. I thought of Harlow, of her defiant s

hand. "I promis

d as long as she is my woman, no one will h

to my mother, and

in the shadows of the ha

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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.”