LOGIN"You want me to play nice, sweetheart?" Stone growled, his deep, gravelly voice brushing against her ear. He leaned closer, carrying the scent of leather, smoke, and danger. "Fine. I'll play along. But the moment you wear my jacket, everyone will know you're mine. And I don't share." Stranded. Desperate. Out of options. When her car breaks down outside a notorious biker bar, she makes a desperate deal with Stone, the ruthless president of the Iron Reapers MC. All she wants is to make her longtime crush jealous. The plan is simple: pretend to be Stone's girlfriend. But Stone doesn't do pretend. What starts as staged touches and public kisses soon turns into an obsession neither of them can control. The man who agreed to play her boyfriend has no intention of letting her walk away when their deal expires. And just when her old crush finally realizes what he's lost, she's caught between two worlds: the safe, predictable life she once wanted and the dangerous, all-consuming love of a biker who would burn the world down to keep her.
View MoreI walked over to the mattress and sat down, the physical toll of the journey catching up to me all at once. I looked around the bleak, gray room. It felt like a prison cell, but as I inhaled the stale air, a profound sense of relief washed over me. There were no guards here. No cameras tracking my e
Waiting in the shadows was a nondescript, mud-splattered delivery van. The engine was idling silently, its headlights completely switched off. Medusa opened the side sliding door and practically poured me into the back. The interior was dark and smelled of oil and old cardboard boxes. There were n
The mention of my baby hit me like a physical blow. I swallowed hard, the fear in my chest instantly hardening into something resembling resolve. I looked down at the dark clothes, then back at Medusa. "How do we get out?" I asked, my voice steadying. "There are security cameras at every exit. Nur
The hospital smelled of industrial bleach, stale coffee, and the distinct, metallic tang of dying dreams. I lay perfectly still in the sterile dark, my eyes fixed on the ceiling tiles. A rhythmic, mechanical hum vibrated through the mattress—the steady, artificial pulse of the heart monitor taped












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