BUSINESS AND INTEREST

ALEXANDER

The crowd around the arena was still buzzing from the race when I leaned back against my bike, smirking at the memory of her sharp tongue. Not many people dared to tell me no. But some pretty biker had. And she didn’t even flinch when she did it.

“So much guts,” I muttered under my breath, half to myself, half to the night air. “She’s got fire.”

I turned to Jerry, who was lounging on his bike, chewing gum like he had nothing better to do. “Jerry, come here.”

He raised a brow but walked over. “What’s up, boss?”

“I need more details about this lady,” I said, keeping my voice even but firm.

Jerry’s lips curved into a grin. “Knew it. I saw the way you were looking at her. Haven’t seen you this curious about a woman in a while.”

I shot him a look that wiped the smirk right off his face. “Don’t make assumptions. She’s got skills. And guts. I want to know who I’m dealing with before I decide anything. Got it?”

He put up his hands in mock surrender. “Sure, boss. Feedback coming soon.”

“Good.”

The guys from the club were still celebrating the ride, laughing, drinking, the kind of rowdy energy we always had after a successful meet. But my mind wasn’t on the party. It was on her.

Who the hell was she really?

By the time the night started winding down, Jerry was back. He tossed a folder on the table in front of me. “Basic info,” he said. “Name’s Valerie Quinn. Age twenty-eight. A lawyer—badass one, too. Recently won a high-profile case. Sent the ex-president’s son to jail for fraud and assault. Got the guy twenty years behind bars. She’s making headlines in the legal world.”

I opened the folder, scanning the pages. A photo of her stared back at me—professional, serious, hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, eyes sharp. It was a stark contrast to the woman I’d raced earlier today, her hair loose, her eyes blazing with challenge, her lips curving with confidence.

“She’s no joke,” Jerry continued. “Lives in the city center. Works at Harper & Associates—family law firm. Rumor is, she’s the brains keeping the firm alive. And… uh, she’s single. No record of relationships in the last two years, at least nothing public.”

I leaned back in my chair, tapping a finger against my chin. “A lawyer who just took down a politician’s son. That’s gutsy. Could be useful for us.”

Jerry grinned. “Told you. She’s not looking bad either. A face like that and brains to match? She’s a catch.”

I gave him a pointed look. “She’s not a catch. She’s a potential asset. Don’t mix the two.”

“Right, right. Asset. Got it.”

I ignored his teasing tone, flipping the folder closed. My mind was already working a dozen steps ahead. If I could get Valerie on our side, it would mean more than just legal protection for the club. It would mean having someone who knew how to fight battles where fists couldn’t reach—in courtrooms, in negotiations, in the shadows where reputations were built or destroyed.

And I always got what I wanted.

“Jerry,” I said, my voice low but firm.

“Yeah?”

“Her work location. Tomorrow morning, I’m paying her a visit.”

His brows shot up. “Personally?”

“Yes.”

“Boss, don’t you think that’s… a bit much? She doesn’t know us. Doesn’t know you. Might take it the wrong way.”

I smiled slowly. “Then I’ll make sure she takes it the right way. I’m Alexander Stone. I have everything at my fingertips—even Miss Valerie Quinn. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

The next morning, I dressed sharp—not my usual leather jacket and boots, but a tailored grey suit that fit like it was made for me. First impressions mattered, especially with someone like her. She struck me as the kind of woman who respected power when it walked through the door.

Pulling up outside Harper & Associates, I killed the engine of my black Harley and swung off. Heads turned as I walked through the glass doors of the pristine law firm lobby, my presence drawing attention even before I said a word.

The receptionist looked up, startled by my sudden appearance. “Good morning, sir. Do you have an appointment?”

“No,” I said smoothly, flashing her a disarming smile. “But I think Valerie Quinn will want to see me.”

She hesitated, then picked up the phone. A few seconds later, she nodded. “She’ll see you now. Second floor, office at the end of the hall.”

Perfect.

I walked down the hall, my footsteps measured, confident. When I reached her office, I paused for a second, then knocked lightly on the door.

“Come in,” came her voice—cool, professional.

I pushed the door open. She was sitting behind a sleek wooden desk, papers neatly stacked in front of her, a laptop open. She looked up, and for a moment, I caught the flicker of recognition in her eyes.

“You,” she said, surprise coloring her tone.

“Me,” I replied, letting a small smile curve my lips. “Alexander Stone. We met yesterday—on the track.”

Her brows arched, and she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “And what brings a biker club president to a law office this morning?”

Straight to the point. I liked that.

“I’m here,” I said, “because I think you’re exactly what I need.”

She laughed softly, not out of amusement, but in disbelief. “What do you need? We barely exchanged ten words yesterday.”

“True,” I said, stepping further into the room. “But I saw enough to know you’ve got guts. And it interests me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere here, Mr. Stone. I’m busy, so if this is some kind of recruitment pitch for your club—”

“It’s more than that,” I interrupted gently, but firmly. “I want you to consider working with us. Not as a member—unless you want to—but as our legal counsel. We’re expanding. We need someone with your… tenacity.”

She tilted her head, studying me. “And why would I, a successful lawyer with a thriving firm, want to get involved with a motorcycle club? Enlighten me.”

I met her gaze steadily. “Because we’re not just a club. We’re a family. A network. And when we move, we move like a storm. You could be part of that—or you could stay in this office, fighting cases one at a time, while the world outside changes without you.”

For a moment, silence hung between us. She tapped her pen against the desk, thoughtful.

“You’re bold,” she finally said. “I’ll give you that. But I don’t make decisions like this on impulse. You want me on your side? Prove I can trust you. Prove I won’t regret it.”

I smiled slowly, sensing the opening I needed. “Fair enough. Give me one week. I’ll show you exactly why you won’t.”

She didn’t agree outright, but she didn’t throw me out either. And that was enough for me.

As I left her office, I felt that familiar rush of satisfaction. Valerie Quinn might think she’s playing hard to get, but she’s already on my radar. And when I set my sights on something… I never miss it.