Pampered By The Ruthless Biker King

ane

ight of Tack's stare. He was sitting in a chair

ght, faded band tee onto the bed. "Put these o

lled on the rough cotton. It felt like shedding

d the pristine, tree-lined streets of my adoptive parents'

grew up in a place with manicured lawns," Tack mu

here," I replied, st

nce. I took a deep breath, shoved the door op

scowl, but the moment she saw Tack's towering, tattoo

hissed, her voice trembling. "H

s," I said, pushing pa

the hardwood floors. He looked around the sterile, overl

d halfway down, her eyes widening at the sight of Tack. "Sloane? You actually

my few possessions inside. A few books, some plain clothes, and the only thing t

ck leaned against the doorframe, crossing hi

ing with fake pity. "I hear those biker gangs just pass women aroun

made a mistake, Sloane, but at least he's respecta

l bag and turned to face them. I saw the smug sati

side against his solid chest. I looked up at him with a sickenin

pulling me flush against him, and pressed a hard kiss to my temple. "They're jus

tha and Aubrey li

y?" Mart

ur walked up the steps, loosening his tie. W

owed, puffing out his chest. "We raised you, fed y

dropped ten degrees. "Watch your mouth, old man. S

ack's sheer size, but his greed kept him

ice laced with pure venom. "Ar

his face, turning his skin a sickly, ashen gray. A bead of sweat broke out on his forehead, and his eyes darted fran

n hit me. What is

r that we shared no blood. But his reaction... he looked terrified. Li

ouse was closing in on my throat. I couldn't stay here another second to

y duffel bag over my sho

creamed from the landing, "Don't ever

the front door, steppin

turned his head, his blue eyes piercing through my defens

hell of a lot of

his probing gaze in the side mirror. "Every

g that piece of information away in his sharp mind

ide, the adrenaline from confronting Arthur began to fade. A hollow exhaustion settled in my ch

a sleek, high-end lounge still in th

e inside. Instead, he leaned against the hood, lighting a cigarette, his d

ka martini. Pulling out my encrypted phone, I texted Axel: S

oss. Want me to cut the power to

d my lips. Tempting, b

se that's what happens when your

feet away, clutching a glass of scotch. His usually immaculate designer suit was