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Claimed By The Rival Biker Boss

Claimed By The Rival Biker Boss

Author: Tity
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Chapter 1 

Word Count: 1092    |    Released on: Today at 10:17

lia

and stepped into the "chapel." Th

or leaned against the walls, their faces a mix of grim curiosity and

spent six years of my life with. The club president whose books I had balanced, who

mall, satisfied smirk clung to her lips. For years, she had wanted

d Tank, slammed a gavel down on the table.

out to lie or assert power he didn't feel he'd earned. "This Church has been called to ad

hythm on the wood. She caught my eye and mouthed a single word, her lips curling in a sneer: Pathe

forward," Doug

. I clenched my fists at my sides, the nails digg

rabbed the front of my leather jacket, his fingers locking hard around the s

back a half-step, the force of the rip pulling me off balance. I locked my knee

nto the table like a piece of trash. "From this moment on, you're a sweetbutt. You'll

hangeable women who floated around the clubhouse. I bit the inside of my cheek, hard. The coppery

ed my head just enough to level a glare at them so cold, so utte

y misreading the dangerous calm that had settled over me

teady, defiant rhythm as I walked out of the Church room, down the na

e clubhouse from my lungs. I didn't go to my own bike. I walked straight toward

ly. I climbed into the cab, the familiar scent of him-oil, cheap cologne, and cigarettes-making my stomach clench. I clicked on a small penlight. M

. Behind the driver's seat was a custom leather saddlebag he used for "sensitive" club documents. I kn

h a pile of oily rags, I foun

d photo. It fluttered onto the dusty floor mat. I picked it up. My eyes scanned th

lently shoved the photo into my pocket. I dug deeper into the envelope. Bank transfer slips. Dozens of th

I had so carefully laundered for the club, the funds meant f

I snapped high-resolution ph

ribs. A prospect, his silhouette visible through the window, walked past, t

back exactly as I'd found it, locked the saddlebag, and wiped the d

Vipers sign on the clubhouse wall. A dead-cold realization washed ov

ar drowned out the muffled music from the bar. As I sped onto the interstate

down had

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Claimed By The Rival Biker Boss
Claimed By The Rival Biker Boss
“For five years, I was the secret financial mastermind behind the Vipers MC, keeping my boyfriend Douglas and his greedy family afloat. But today, he suddenly dumped me and demoted me to a "Sweetbutt"-the lowest level of club property, available to any patched member. "You'll still be useful around the clubhouse," he said coldly, leaving me to the mercy of his mother Brenda, who immediately ordered me to scrub the toilets. The other girls mocked my fall from grace, expecting me to break down and beg for my old life back. But they didn't know I had just uncovered Douglas's ultimate betrayal: he had used the wealth I built to secretly fund a whole new life and a hidden son with another woman in Arizona. He actually thought I would quietly accept being stripped of my dignity and passed around the clubhouse, while he built his perfect legacy on my dime. Worse, his family tried to use my sudden vulnerability to feed me to Ardell Cameron, the ruthless president of a rival MC who had a decade-old blood vendetta against me. They thought they were throwing a helpless, discarded woman to the wolves to save their own skins. They had no idea they just handed a queen the perfect reason to burn their entire kingdom to the ground. I didn't shed a single tear. Instead, I smiled, opened my hidden ledgers, and began to call in every single debt they owed.”