All Chapters of Claimed by the Mafia Biker: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

“He moved. East Station. Now.”The words hang in the air like a detonator.Viper’s phone slips back into his pocket as if it’s nothing. His smile is gone. The room is suddenly too small, every man’s breath a warning.“Damn it,” Blade snaps. “They moved faster than we thought.”“You said two hours,” I tell him, and my voice comes out thin. Panic and adrenaline are a dangerous mix; they sharpen everything.“We planned for variations,” the agent says, clipped, calm where I am not. “East Station is a commuter hub — dense, public, messy. If they’re moving him through there, they’re trying to bury him in noise. We adapt.”Cruz is already moving, fingers clumsy as he waves for us to follow. Blood glitters on his cheek like a promise. He doesn’t bother with a helmet. He never does when he’s burning toward something important. He looks at me for a second — that long, raw look that means there’s nothing left to say and everything left to feel.“You stay with Blade,” he tells me. It’s a command

The sound of clapping echoed across the ruined street, mocking, deliberate. Each strike of palm to palm was louder than the sirens fading in the distance, louder than Cruz’s ragged breathing in Nova’s ear.Nova’s heart slammed against her ribs. She tightened her grip around Cruz, pulling him closer against her. “Who is that?” Her whisper trembled, but her eyes never left the shadowed figure.Blade raised his knife, fury radiating from every muscle. “Step into the light, coward.”The figure laughed softly. “Patience. Always so eager to cut first, ask later.”Cruz coughed, his voice weak but filled with venom. “Why… why now?”The man tilted his head, still hidden in the dark. “Because I like to watch the king bleed before I take his crown.”Nova’s stomach twisted. She snapped, “You think this is a game? He’s dying!”The man chuckled low. “That’s the point, darling.”Blade snarled, taking a step forward. “One more word out of your mouth and I’ll gut you where you stand.”“Oh, Blade,” the

The scrape above us echoed, dragging the air tight with dread. Cruz’s eyes widened, his body stiff against mine.“He’s on the ceiling,” Blade growled, voice low but deadly. “Not for long, though. He’s making his move.”“Cruz,” I whispered, trembling. “We can’t—he’s right above us. What do we do?”Cruz shook his head slowly, jaw tight. “We survive. That’s it. We keep our heads down and—”A shadow shifted. Fast. Too fast. My stomach dropped.Blade spun, knife raised. “Now!” he barked.The ceiling groaned under weight. Then, with terrifying precision, something swung down like a phantom. Cruz reacted instinctively, pulling me and our daughter back as the figure landed silently, crouched, deadly.“Stay behind me,” Cruz hissed, voice shaking, but firm.I clutched our daughter tighter, heart hammering. “He’s… he’s not coming out into the open. He’s—”“Watching,” Blade finished for me, teeth clenched. “Every move. Every breath. He’s hunting the moment we make a mistake.”Cruz’s lips pressed

The alley was eerily quiet now, but every muscle in my body screamed that silence was a lie. Cruz’s eyes never left the darkness, hand gripping his gun like it was an extension of himself. Blade’s knife reflected faint light, ready, tense, his body coiled like a spring. Our daughter clung to me, tiny arms wrapped around my neck, her soft whimpers barely audible, but enough to shatter any calm I tried to muster.“It’s out there,” Cruz muttered, voice low, steady but heavy with warning. “It hasn’t given up. And it’s patient.”Blade grunted, glancing toward the far end of the alley. “Patience doesn’t mean weakness. It’s calculating. It knows we’re exhausted, it knows we’re scared. It wants to make us make the first mistake.”I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “Cruz… what do we do? We can’t just wait here forever.”“We don’t wait,” Cruz said sharply, stepping forward, gun raised. “We lure it. Make it show itself on our terms. If it wants a fight, it’ll get one—but it

The night had settled into a deceptive calm. Streetlights flickered overhead, casting long, uneasy shadows across the alley. Cruz moved with deliberate precision, every step measured, eyes scanning the darkness. Our daughter clung to me, trembling slightly but silent, as if she understood the unspoken danger pressing in around us.“Quiet,” Cruz murmured, his voice low and steady, yet threaded with tension. “Any sound could draw it.”Blade flanked us, knife gleaming faintly under the dim light. “It’s still there,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Watching. Waiting. It hasn’t moved from the edges yet, but it’s close.”I swallowed hard, trying to calm the rapid beating of my heart. “Why isn’t it attacking?” I asked. “Why just… follow us like this?”Cruz shook his head slightly, lips tight. “Because it’s testing us. Learning. It wants to see how we react under pressure. And it knows, as long as we show fear, it has the advantage.”Blade’s gaze swept over every shadow, every crack i