icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

The Biker Alpha's Contract Mate: The Hidden Heiress

Chapter 4 

Word Count: 869    |    Released on: Today at 15:04

hne

s for me, I finished four hours ahead of schedule. When I slapped the five-star signed dis

stepped into the hallway, nearly collid

iant wore a worn leather vest bearing the gold-toothed wolf medal of an Original-

ed down the hall. "I booked a private room at the Anvil Steakho

r jacket and hooked an arm over the back of a nearby chair. "Perfect timing,

d VIP booth at the Anvil Steakhouse, surrounded by

on his cut, the road name Havoc-the club title earned in blood that replaced a

beside me on the leather bench, carefully slicing a medium-rare ribeye in

you." Emmanuel flashed a reckless gri

hair across the tile with a grat

play busboy for a scentless temp?" Dar

real talent, and I owe my life to people who know how to fix an engin

o

The red wine in the glasses rippled, and the wooden wall panels groa

against the floor, his elder authority cutting through the tension. He turned his sharp, agi

ss shim fixed it." I speared a piece of steak an

ow a desert orphan knows how to tune a custom two-thousand-cc race engin

t Church and kick me out." I raised an eyebrow, meeting his dark stare. "

g, choking on his beer, while Darrell's knuckles turned whit

California sat untouched in frozen silence. When dinner ended, Boone's bodyguards escorted the old

he coastal highway." Emmanuel held

isor, a scarred, calloused hand sho

Property Patch, Hurley." Darrell's voice rumbled with an Alpha's warning. "Club law says any patche

clenching at his sides, but he cou

hand around my wrist and dragged me

is misfiring." I twisted my arm, my other han

is custom chopper, caging me in with both arms. The scen

ing against mine. "I don't care what game you're running. For the next

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open
The Biker Alpha's Contract Mate: The Hidden Heiress
The Biker Alpha's Contract Mate: The Hidden Heiress
“I was forced into a ninety-day probationary contract as the Old Lady of Darrell Sexton, the Alpha Prez of the Iron Claw MC. Hiding my rare White Wolf bloodline under a dead, human-like scent, the entire pack treated me like worthless country trash. His jealous club girls hated me, and one night, they finally made their move. They tricked me into a condemned, remote warehouse in the freight yard and padlocked the heavy iron doors from the outside. When the lights suddenly died, plunging me into pitch-blackness, the trauma of being locked in a blood-soaked underground pit ten years ago violently triggered. Suffocating, trembling, and bleeding from a bad fall in the dark, I pulled out my phone. With exactly one percent battery left, I texted an "SOS" to the only person on this territory strong enough to tear down those iron doors-Darrell. But half a mile away in the roaring Clubhouse, Darrell glanced at the message from my unsaved number. Assuming it was just another desperate club girl playing games for his attention, he let out a cold sneer. "Looks like another desperate club girl playing stupid games." He locked the screen and flipped his phone face-down on the bar without a second thought. As my screen went permanently black and I lay gasping for air on the freezing, oil-slicked concrete floor, the agonizing truth crushed my chest. He didn't care, and he wasn't coming. Right before the darkness swallowed my consciousness completely, the last shred of my patience died. Darrell Sexton, I will never forgive you for this. When I get out of here, I'm tearing up this contract, and this arrogant pack will learn exactly what kind of monster they just woke up.”