Shattered Claim: The Hidden Billionaire Mechanic

uely

nd dropped them into the biohazard bin. The steady, rhythmic beep of the c

conscious, his bare, heavily tattooed chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths.

by the reinforced steel door, their heavy submachi

washing my hands in the stainless-steel basin. "Keep him on the sali

the gurney. "He's been asking for you. Kept

there was something about him-a stillness that didn't

I'll be ba

hone buzzed a

e out. It was a forwarded message fr

l only granted Hillary a temporary stay on her border exile - a short medical repr

more weeks in the city. And she wasn't about to wait for the council's final guilty verdict. This fake pregnancy was her hail mary - she'd

followed

unning drinks, and a cluster of Sweetbutts draped over the pool table like ornaments. But it was the Old Ladies' corner that caught my eye. A tight circl

en fawning Sweetbutts, her hand resting deliberately ov

of her left elbow. Just below the cephalic vein, partially concealed

cognize it instantly. That was the unmistakable mark of human chorionic gonadotropin-a syn

bbed my leather jacket,

d outside the neon-lit front of the Red Line Bar. H

e swinging

perfume hit my nose. The bar went dead silent within

ilver-haired woman with a Road Captain's rocker on her man's cut

ce. Jamir stood right beside her, his good arm wrapped protectively ar

rward, her voice ringing out clearly across the room. "Jackie! You're just in ti

ne of them squealed. But the Old Ladies' c

tts whispered. "She's going to

d Old Lady snapped. "Let's

"It's over, Jackie. You lost. Hillary is carrying the next he

ainst the floorboards, my eyes fixed on the woman on the stool. I reached out, pic

sked softly. "H

tightening around her glass. "Just confirmed this morning

that

rled the entire glass of ice

eavy makeup on her cheek and soaking the sleeve of her silk bl

utward and violently yanking her soaked sleeve up to her shoulder. The dark, inflamed need

of the tavern. "Five hundred dollars a vial on the black market. Injected subcutaneousl

s wasn't just about stealing a title - it was your get-out-of-exile free card. You thought carrying a Rei

up, her face hard. "She faked it? She faked being pregnant to

dy said. "That's a disgrace to every wo

an riders leaned over their tables, sq

rying to pry my fingers off. "Let go of her! That's f

hard against the bar counter. "Routine blood draw? Then explain why the digital signature and IP used to

e looked at the receipt, her mouth open

unded by two senior shop elders. She took one look at the receipt on the bar a

Martha hissed, pointing a t

rage and the hard evidence on the wood,

y heel and walked out of the bar. My phone buzzed again. A short message from the

. Flint Silas. Reaper. The most dangerou

lver-haired Old Lady's voice cut through the chaos: "Somebody get this liar