All Chapters of Claimed by the Mafia Biker: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The words hit me harder than any bullet.Not me. Not the Kings. Nova.Her hand clamped tighter around Isla, like she could will her body into a shield. Her voice shook, but her chin stayed sharp. “I don’t even know who they are.”The leader’s voice rolled out through that mask, cold and sure. “You will.”“Over my dead body,” I snapped, stepping between them, knife ready, pistol drawn in the other hand now. “If you so much as breathe wrong in her direction, I’ll cut your throat before you take another step.”The Outriders didn’t flinch. Not a twitch. That calm was worse than Rafe’s madness—it was surgical, clinical, like they were already writing our deaths on some invisible page.Blade’s voice came like flint striking stone. “Cruz—we can’t stand here like targets. We’ve got Kings ready to bleed for us, but this? This is different.”“I know,” I muttered, not lowering the gun. My eyes stayed locked on the leader. “But I’ll burn the earth before I let them touch her.”Behind me, Nova’s b

The photo burns a hole in the night. It doesn’t matter that the edges are crumpled in Cruz’s fist now, it doesn’t matter that Isla’s soft weight is pressed to my chest while Blade clears the path ahead—my eyes keep going back to it. The diner. Me. My daughter. Watched, stalked, captured in a frame that was never meant to exist.And the words keep playing in my skull like a broken record: someone very close.Cruz doesn’t speak for a long stretch of road. He just rides. His knuckles are white on the throttle, the veins in his forearm rope-tight. I know that silence, the one that comes before he either breaks or burns everything down.“Say something,” I finally whisper into the wind, my cheek pressed against his back.His voice is gravel. “They were right there. Watching you. Watching her. And I didn’t see it.”“You couldn’t have known—”“I should’ve,” he snaps, the words cutting sharper than the cold. “I don’t get to miss details. That’s the difference between you being alive or not. Be

The room was a storm without rain. Fists slammed, boots scraped, men barked over each other like dogs circling meat—but Cruz didn’t move. His grip stayed locked in Dalton’s collar, holding him against the wall like the weight of the whole brotherhood balanced on his arm.Dalton’s voice cracked. “Please, Cruz—I didn’t have a choice. He had my brother!”Cruz’s tone was low, almost too calm. “You had a choice. You could’ve come to me. To Blade. To anyone but him.”“Rafe said he’d slit his throat slow, make me watch,” Dalton rasped. His eyes were wet, wild. “I thought if I gave him one meeting place, just one, it would end. I thought—”“You thought wrong,” Blade snapped, his voice a knife in the silence that followed. He stepped forward, shoulders rolling with fury. “You risked every one of us. You risked Nova. Isla. That doesn’t end with an excuse.”Nova’s arms tightened around Isla, her face pale but steady. She didn’t speak—her eyes just followed Cruz, like she knew the weight of the m

The fire’s glow still painted the night sky when silence fell over the lot. Too much silence. No gunfire, no shouting—only the pop of burning metal and the low groan of collapsing steel.Cruz stood with his shoulders heaving, chest raw with smoke, eyes scanning the treeline. Every instinct in him screamed the fight wasn’t over.Blade wiped soot from his face with the back of his hand. “We broke their circle. Rafe won’t sleep easy after this.”Cruz’s hand stayed near his pistol. “Rafe wasn’t the one that had me shaking back there.”Blade’s head snapped toward him. “What do you mean?”Cruz didn’t answer right away. His eyes fixed on the black line of trees just beyond the burning warehouse, where the smoke twisted into the shadows. He could still feel it—that gaze from the rafters. The kind of presence that didn’t need noise to make itself known.Gray shifted uneasily, dragging a sleeve across his mouth. “Boss, we got more incoming? ‘Cause I can’t take another damn ambush tonight.”Cruz

Gunfire ripped the night apart.Bullets tore through crates, wood splintering in showers of sparks and salt-damp dust. Cruz dropped low behind the truck, teeth gritted, his pistol hot in his hand. Gray was already moving, a shadow among shadows, his blade flashing every time the moon caught it.“Push left!” Cruz barked over the chaos.Gray didn’t argue. He darted left, slashing one guard’s hamstring, then silencing his scream with a hand over his mouth and steel through his throat.Rafe’s laugh carried across the docks again, smug, mocking. “You Kings really don’t learn. You always come to me like lambs. And you always leave in pieces.”Cruz leaned out, fired twice—one man dropped, another stumbled screaming with a bullet through his leg. “That’s the thing about lambs,” Cruz growled. “They don’t bite back.”A shot sparked off the truck near his head, forcing him low again. He hissed and looked toward the southern pier. The diversion was still roaring—engines, explosions, the crackle o