The Biker Alpha's Contract Mate: The Hidden Heiress

Chapter 8

Word Count: 805 | Released on: Today at 15:04

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ressive questioning on the cliff road last night, I knew my skills had drawn too much heat. To finish Grandfather

urgundy leather jacket stitched with Parisian silver-thread embroider

vicious. "Look who graced us with her presence. Playing a

doing, Manager Mej

feet high with yellowing, mold-spotted paper ledgers. It was ten years' worth of handwritten shippin

out tonight." Hatti crossed her arms, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Miss a single dime or leave early, and I'll r

d away in pity; ten accountants couldn't

mell of mildew and motor oil, my fingertips brushed a faint residue of

ith busywork, but she had just handed me the unedited

rt handle without a word of complaint and pushed the

midnight!" Hatti's shrill laugh followed me

false bottom of my canvas bag, and clipped it to the desktop monitor. Tapping

e green," Austin's voice crackled

brittle pages with both hands so fast the paper blurred like a riffled deck of cards.

algorithms tore through the falsified numbers like tissue paper. Every altered fuel receipt, phantom truck rout

d a master file naming thirty traitors-enough to put Debbie and Hatti in the ground-was safely backed up. Before packing my scanner away, I delib

rri

n the desk shrieked. I

hipment of military-grade axle bearings is arriving at the Sub-Level Three blast vault in fifteen minutes. I'm stuck across town with a client-gr

Ten minutes ago, my perimeter camera hack had caught Hatti dr

ll signal, zero windows, and only one heavy blast door. They had dug up my childhood medical file from the

." I kept my voice quiet and compliant, hung up the pho

Chapter End

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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.”