Tempted By My Ex-Husband's Biker Uncle

Alina Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. It was the sound of my life passing by, waiting for a man who didn't want to come home. I still lay there, staring at the empty space where Liam had stood. My hand was still resting on my stomach. I couldn't sleep. It was long gone. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, making me jump. The screen lit up the dark room, blinding me for a moment. I reached for my phone, my heart doing a nervous flip. It was 2:00 AM. Who would be texting me now? [Message from: Chloe] Chloe was my best friend, the only person in the world who knew how lonely my "fairy tale" marriage actually was. She was out tonight at The Sapphire Lounge, the most exclusive club in the city. I slid the notification and tapped the message. [Chloe: Jules... I don't know if I should send this. But you deserve to know.] My stomach dropped. She never sent me messages this late unless it was important. [Chloe: Sent a photo] I tapped on the image. It took a second to load, and

Alina Liam had driven into the underground garage like a madman. Panic seized my chest. I rushed to the paper, pressed the pen down, and scribbled my name, Alina Sterling, at the bottom of the page. The front door downstairs slammed open. “Alina!” Liam’s voice roared through the silent house. I pulled the diamond wedding ring off my finger. It felt like shedding a chain. I placed the cold, glittering stone right on top of my signature. “Alina, please! Are you here?” Footsteps pounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I grabbed the handle of my suitcase, ready to run, but I was too late. The bedroom door burst open. Liam stood in the doorway, chest heaving, his tie loosened and his hair a mess. His dark eyes locked onto me, wide. “Alina…” he breathed out, stepping into the room. “I… I forgot… I realized what today is. I am so sorry, I—“ His apology died in his throat. His eyes fell to the suitcase gripped tightly in my hand. Then, they d

Alina Stepping over the threshold was like walking into the belly of a beast. It was a massive, warehouse-style space. A long wooden bar stretched across one side, crowded with huge men wearing leather vests patched with the Hellhounds logo. But it wasn't the men that made my stomach turn. It was what was happening right out in the open. In the center of the room, a woman in a tiny skirt was bent over a pool table. A man was pressed tightly behind her, his hands gripping her hips. Other men stood around them, drinking from beer bottles, cheering and laughing. No one looked away. No one hid it. In the corner, another woman was sitting on a man’s lap, openly kissing him while his hands roamed freely over her bare chest. There was no shame. No closed doors. I took a step back, my back hitting the cold metal of the door. My breath came in short, panicked gasps. What have I done? I had never felt more like prey in my entire life. Gabriel didn’t stop to check if I was following.

Alina The metal door slammed shut behind us, cutting off the freezing night and pulling me back into the roaring belly of the beast. The suffocating heat of the clubhouse hit my face. The bass from the speakers boomed through the sticky floorboards, vibrating right up into my chest. I wrapped my arms over my torso, trying to hide the large rip in my silk blouse that exposed my collarbone. I was covered in dirt, dried blood, and sweat. As we walked past the long bar, the rowdy bikers stared at me. Some leered at my torn clothes, whispering to each other. I kept my eyes glued to Gabriel’s broad, leather-clad back. He was my only shield in this room full of wolves. I looked at the raised wooden stage in the center of the room. The red neon lights cast long, bloody shadows across the floor. Another dancer was on the pole now, her body moving with effortless, hypnotic grace. A hard lump formed in my throat. Pure panic flared in my chest. I don’t know what to do. Just a

Alina By the time Roxy finally slapped her hand against the silver pole to signal we were done, the grimy windows near the warehouse ceiling were glowing with the dull, gray light of dawn. Every single muscle in my body was trembling. I leaned against the cold steel, my chest heaving. The velvet shorts and lace bralette were soaked in cold sweat, sticking uncomfortably to my skin. My palms were a mess of raw blisters and smeared blood, and my thighs were burning from gripping the metal. "Good enough," Roxy panted, grabbing a towel from the edge of the stage to wipe her face. She looked me up and down, her sharp eyes no longer filled with mockery, but something resembling grudging respect. "You won't win any awards, but you won't break your neck, either. The brothers like the broken, pretty ones anyway." She tossed a second towel at my face. I caught it clumsily with my stinging hands. "Go get some sleep, princess," Roxy said, hopping off the stage with practiced ease. "Toni