The Biker Alpha's Contract Mate: The Hidden Heiress

Chapter 5

Word Count: 751 | Released on: Today at 15:04

hne

back down; instead, I raised two fingers and pressed them squarel

m here because I gave Boone my word. As for this trial patch on my ve

htly, registering the lethal precision of my strike point-something

ed out to the street to hail a cab, leaving him stand

. Over a hundred chrome-plated choppers lined the main drive, engines rumbling as allied

inned to my chest, I sat at a small corner table in the front hall, cros

parted as a tall woman in a plunging crimson leather dress and

who had spent years chasing Darrell and treating the Iron Claw L

a red nail straight at me, her voice dripping with venom

e bit her lower lip, marched across the hall, and stopped in fro

e military canvas duffle bag and slammed it onto

g tightly banded bricks of old, non-sequential hund

chin so the whole hall could hear. Around us, dozens of Sweetbutts and Hang-arou

flicked ash onto my clipboard. "Take the bag, walk onto the main stage right now in front o

Say no, and I'll have my boys dump your body in a highwa

st, wolfless trash!" Eunic

m blueprint under my alias Leo sold for eight figures, and my Starline freight trucks moved

my right hand around the duffl

g I was about to drag t

wo-hundred-pound bag in a full arc, and sm

l. She screamed as her heels left the floor, flying b

, plastering her hair to her mascara-streaked cheeks as she collapsed into the broken glass. Bricks

t dead silent. Not

bill off my denim cuff, my grey-blue eyes cold as arctic ice. "In Iron Claw ter

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The Biker Alpha's Contract Mate: The Hidden Heiress

Kattie Eaton Werewolf

“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.”