Substitute Bride: Sold To The Ruthless Biker

Chapter 8

Word Count: 710 | Released on: Today at 16:09

lise

on was already wide open when I r

ped down to raw matte-black steel with ape-hanger bars and open exhaust pipes, sat idling in a protective perimeter. The exhaust fumes-heavy with t

-250 Super Duty, its windows tinted opaque black, i

rcycle Club was displayed with lethal pride-the top rocker curved with the club name, the center patch showing a grinning, hooded Grim Reaper clutching a

rporate day jobs. These were outlaws who

lead bike was already walking up

reaper tattoo crawling up his throat like a collar of death. His leather Cut was worn, cracked with years of highway miles and dried rain, the silver skull snaps gleaming dull in t

trembling at his sides, flanked by Eleanor, who loo

dded against the hardwood as he crossed the threshold, his cold, dead eyes sweeping th

s like grinding gravel, cutting t

managed to point a shaking finger toward the staircas

s head. His eyes

of luggage. His gaze lingered on my posture-stiff, balanced, perfectly upright despite the

n eyebrow raised slightly ben

shadow completely swallowed me. The scent of l

ead-eyed stare without blinking. "The Rom

my shoulder at Gregory, then at the shattered sco

aid, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous r

the local anesthetic and the combat stimulant cour

of Cipher's scarred mouth. "Good. Because th

toward the waiting truck with a f

tepping out of the Roman mansion and into the bright, blinding sunlight of the driveway,

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

Substitute Bride: Sold To The Ruthless Biker

Fumo Baobao Modern

“I woke up with a shattered rib and memories that weren't mine, transmigrating into the body of Annelise Roman, the abused, hidden daughter of a wealthy family. My new parents were swapping me out for my golden-child sister, Brielle. I was being sold as a human sacrifice to appease the Iron Wraiths, a notorious motorcycle club led by a ruthless, disfigured president. My "brother" Sean had kicked me so hard my ribs snapped, while my parents watched coldly. Brielle pretended to cry while secretly gloating, eventually gifting me a box of shredded maid's rags to humiliate me before I was sent to the wolves. In my past life as an underground trauma surgeon, I had read the biker gang's federal file. They were apex predators, and this arrangement was supposed to be a brutal death sentence. "And don't do anything to embarrass this family further. Brielle has already sacrificed her reputation because of this mess. The least you can do is make yourself useful to those animals." The original Annelise died terrified and broken, starved in an attic while her family wore Prada. They expected me to go quietly, to be the perfect, silent punching bag and bleed out in the desert just to save their precious reputation. But they didn't realize the terrified girl was gone. Before the bikers arrived, I dragged my battered body to my "father's" desk, forced him to sever our legal ties, and extorted a $2.5 million payout. When the towering bikers finally came to collect their property, I walked out with my head held high, ready to conquer this lawless wasteland.”