All Chapters of The Biker King's Bride : Chapter 101 - Chapter 107

Ronan's POV Good.That was the first thing I told myself after she walked out. Good. She saw it, and now, she knew where I stood. Only a fool would have witnessed what she did and decide to stick to the fact that things were okay between us. It was probably petty, but if I couldn't be happy, then she couldn't as well. I shook the thought out of my head as the club noise slowly came back into focus around me. The music, laughter, glasses clinking and what not echoed, but it all sounded distant, like it was happening in another room.Lana was still in front of me, her fingers curled into my shirt where she’d grabbed me after the kiss.“You surprised me,” she murmured, eyes gleaming. “Didn’t think you still had it in you.”I took another swallow of whiskey I'd snagged the minute we walked in here, letting it burn. “Don’t read into it.”She smirked. “Oh, I’m reading into it.”I didn’t look toward the door. I didn’t let myself. If I looked, I might see her, and if I saw her, I might…

Vivienne's POV By the time the sun came up, my legs barely felt like they belonged to me anymore.I’d been walking for hours, and believe me when I said that was the biggest understatement of the century. I didn’t even remember when I stopped knowing where I was going. I just kept moving, one foot in front of the other, past streets I didn’t recognize, and past people who didn’t look twice at me.The air turned colder as night settled in, and I found myself under a bridge with nothing but the sound of distant traffic and my own breathing to keep me company. I told myself I wasn't scared, but even the tiniest rustle had me jumping in my skin. I wrapped my arms around myself and curled into the concrete like it might swallow me whole, but the hoodie swallowed me instead.His hoodie.I told myself I only grabbed it because it was close to the door when I left,because it was cold, because it didn’t mean anything.But that was a lie, and I knew it. It still smelled faintly like him,

Ronan's POV The air in my office was thick with the scent of stale whiskey, cold tobacco, and the suffocating vibration of my own failure. I hadn’t slept in seventy-two hours and more, I was sure. My skin felt like it was buzzing, a low voltage current of pure, unadulterated rage that made every muscle in my body twitch.I paced the length of the rug, my boots heavy against the floorboards. I caught my reflection in the darkened window, and even though I wasn't one to care too much about my appearance, I was actually disappointed in myself right now. I looked haggard with my bloodshot eyes, and a thick, dark stubble that felt like sandpaper against my palms. I looked like a man losing his mind, because I was.Every lead was a dead end. Every contact I’d squeezed had come up dry. I’d spent the last few days tearing through my own men like a hurricane, handing out punishments for the slightest hesitation,and demanding a level of perfection that was impossible to meet because Vivienn