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Not His Old Lady Anymore

Chapter 5

Word Count: 710 | Released on: 03/09/2026

and Craig was a stone th

even if the noise of the p

ic celebration for Craig's "successful" return fr

hed him on the ride home - the brothers toasted th

tal music wa

laughing, ch

enter of it all, a

r son, Cody,

as some of the members, trying to curry f

a glass of untouched whiskey in my han

rm my duties a

hievements" or mingle

was a silen

d Ladies noticed, casting

a mix of annoyance, impatience, and a flicke

I was jus

ld "deal" with me

as w

igure sat do

s mother, Ele

as out of place in t

e not happy,"

't a qu

, Eleanor?"

s, and sighed. "Craig has gone too far this time. Me

n't accusato

excuses for Craig whi

very sma

nt to the club. And you, Fiona, are more important to this family. Don

ore than s

ew my

de my decision,"

y for a moment, then stopp

. "Don't let anger burn down everyt

ked up my whiskey and

d burned

nd walked to

as t

rned to the party, carrying

h the crowd, heading for

quieted t

s turne

ned expression and wal

rvously, her eyes

, polite smile befi

said. "Welcome to the

ck of ledgers on the t

d with a s

one f

most in this world." My voice carried clearly across the silent room.

om Ginger's face and the loo

le wid

o manage the club's busine

ath sentence wrappe

pted, she w

tting she was less capable than m

moment, then turned to the

nd to our club's new.

ence, I turned

ment on, I was the o

Chapter End

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Not His Old Lady Anymore

Lian Lian Romance

“I was the President's Old Lady - and the only reason his MC was still breathing. For three years, I ran every legal business the Serpents of Redemption owned. While Craig chased road glory across state lines, I turned a failing auto shop and a tattoo parlor into the money that kept the brothers fed, the bikes fueled, and the clubhouse lights on. Then he rode home from a two-month run with a sweetbutt on the back of his Harley - and her son. Ginger, he said, had saved his life on the road. So he put her in the main residence, in the room directly across from our bed. He handed her my ledgers and called it repayment. When her son dumped a cup of scalding coffee over my hand, Craig never checked my burns. He scooped up the boy and blamed me. His grandmother - the club's Matriarch - stood before every patched brother and accused me of hurting "family." That night, Craig told me Ginger held a place in his heart I could never reach. A debt of blood he'd honor above me. Three years. My family's fortune. My scarred hand. All of it - worthless next to his roadside savior. So I did the one thing a President never expects his Old Lady to do. I gave back his patch. Now they can keep their empty ledgers. They can play happy family in a clubhouse I built. And when this motorcycle club burns - I'll be the one holding the match.”