Divorcing The Biker: Her Spectacular Comeback

Chapter 8

Word Count: 629 | Released on: Today at 13:53

na's

door and effortlessly hoi

ree Penningtons look small and pathetic. The rich scen

ke a fish, but no sound is coming out. Her face i

e face slack with shock. The m

n a mixture of fury and a grudging, almost imperceptible,

ure. The truck is absurdly out of place next to their sleek, black Cadillac Escalade-the vehic

is?" Mrs. Penningto

the dowry you were so quick to dismiss. My name i

ou for reminding me to be independent. I was

I've never seen before. "You... y

sweetly. "My father's lawyers

rs to life. It's not a sound; it's a physical concussion. It shakes the

seems to shrink in the t

t. They flinch back, raising their hands to shield their eyes. I am literal

a showing their stunned faces in perfect cla

across the manicured lawn of the clubhouse, a final act of defiance. But

ssive tires crunching satisfyingly on the gravel. I stop

face grim. "This i

ble. "It's just beginning. Have my things packed by morning

r, and the truck leaps forward, leaving them beh

ngton screaming, her body shaking with

and empty, watching me drive

fe by the arm, and barks an order at Brown. "Get in the oth

omforting roar around me, the adrenaline begins to fa

gly, gloriously out. But I know t

Chapter End

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Divorcing The Biker: Her Spectacular Comeback

JESSICA KIRK Romance

“For five years, I was Brown Pennington's loyal "Old Lady," packing his gear, cleaning his wounds, and standing by him through every motorcycle club war. Tonight was supposed to be our victory celebration. But instead of celebrating with me, he stood on the clubhouse stage and publicly asked the leadership for a "blessing" to set me aside like a piece of old equipment. He wanted to replace me with Kaley Sims, the daughter of the rival club leader we just defeated. His mother, the club's matriarch, smirked in triumph, publicly ordering me to graciously step down and accept the humiliating status of a common club girl. When the veteran members protested this disgrace to our colors, Brown played his trump card: Kaley was pregnant. He expected me to quietly accept my public execution, acting as a live-in babysitter for his child while he played happy family with his new war prize. I looked at the man I had built a life with, realizing he was a stranger willing to sacrifice my honor and dignity on the altar of his selfish ambition. But I didn't crumble and cry like they thought I would. "My answer to my husband's request is no. A thousand times, no." I demanded a formal separation, took the keys to my dowry Cadillac, and drove off into the night. This time, I chose to fight for my own freedom.”