My Fiancé Ran, So I Took His Father Instead

Chapter 10

Word Count: 503 | Released on: 04/09/2026

low

ck's suite our home. I started by calli

s a m

ontempt. One of them, a Hang-around not even w

too hard. A girl like you

u're just Colby's sloppy seconds.

hing out now would be pointless. I had no real autho

stare, memorizing their faces, the temporary

into the night, when Frederick finally returned. He lo

ed, surprised to s

r Cut from his shoulders. It was the first time I'd done something so

e asked, rubbing the

ht in the eye. "I want to make this roo

deliberately, tes

authority over this suite. Incl

appened, calmly and w

," I finished, framing it not as a personal

al cold. The one thing a man like him could not tolerat

, his expression unreadable. Then

those Hang-arounds to my door. No

mix of emotions in his eyes. Appreciation, ma

y chin up with his thumb so

aid, his voice a low, possessive growl. "You handle it howe

permission. A blank

way outside, followed by nervou

ked back through those doors with his mistress on his arm, expe

Chapter End

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My Fiancé Ran, So I Took His Father Instead

Eydie Pfefferle Romance

“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.”