All Chapters of Biker-in-law's Death Kiss: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

Louise ran towards me, eyes bulging, face pale in panic. “What happened to you Liv, where have you been? Are you OK?”I nodded, glancing at Sienna and her daughter, who craned their necks, staring at me wide-eyed.“Are you sure?” Louise’s voice grabbed my attention again. “Good heavens,” her hand came up to my shoulders, turning me this way and that, feeling around my belly and chest with manicured nails. My eyes took in her sleek, straight hair, the luxury purse hanging pertly around her elbow, the sharp cut of her A-line dress in a soft blue hue, and I felt like a bum.Louise looked and smelled like money. Old money, carefully preserved and powerful, a far cry from me who grew up in poverty. “It’s not mine.” I stepped away from her.She froze, her head snapping back to shoot a quick glance in the Vaios women’s direction. Samantha pulled her phone out, and although it looked like she was texting, I knew the bitch had just taken a picture of me.“What do you mean it’s not yours?” L

The other paintings pulled a gasp out of me. Dreamy colors, blurry but detailed forms, expressionism, impressionism, surrealism, curious art choices for an eleven-year-old child.The human forms in his paintings held enough details to identify the youth of the eleven-year-old boy, the coldness of his older sister, the exact shade of milky skin tone we shared, the long legs. But it artfully blurred the details of his facial features or any other thing that would make him recognizable in the real world. And looking at all the paintings, I had no more knowledge of what he looked like than I had when I saw that first image of him where he had his back to the camera. The image the maid gave me that got her killed.I still did not know what my brother looked like. But he knew me, he got my proportions right, my skin tone, height and even the clothes I wore to events and the office where pressmen took images of me.M knew me. My brother knew me. How did his young mind rationalize my absen

“Get her!”I ran a zigzag across the lawn feeling the rush of air as the guard missed me completely. My legs pumped under me, my heels hitting my thighs over and over as I drew closer to the gates. I had never run so fast in my life. Not even that day I escaped the Iron cave.“No!” I swerved left, as a flash of a suit zoomed past me towards the right while I continued running left instead.If the sky was not blue, and my slippers were crunching the brittle grass under my feet, I would have been convinced this was a dream. Because running and swerving to avoid guards on the cool evening of a Thursday like we were preschoolers playing a game, did not feel real.It did not feel like what a young heiress with more money than the country’s president should be doing in her own home.“Get away from me!” I shrieked, my fear very apparent in my voice as I barely managed to twist my body out of another guard's hold, his calloused hand brushing my skin. “Stop this, Olivia.” Dean’s voice carrie

I did sleep, and it wasn’t from exhaustion, or compliance with Mr Biker-Dom, but his fingers. His fingers sent me into a deep sleep despite the tempest surrounding us, charged with his silence, and my dissatisfaction and anxiety over that silence. But I guess the human body only understands logic. He was the same man who had me wet, dripping and aching for him after wrestling me down in my aunt's garage. So it was no surprise that he had me writhing and moaning after a couple of wet strokes with his fingers between my legs, while still maintaining that silence behind me, his nose in my hair. When I woke up, it was several hours later, my body listless, my lungs filled with a delicious smell from somewhere in the room.I rolled over on the bed, and found him sitting on a couch, puffing a large cigar, his eyes burning into me.He flicked his head to my right, and I turned to find a tray with elegant porcelain dishes.My mouth watered. “You expect me to eat too?” I met his eyes aga

My hair in his fist, he pulled me back up to my knees. “Scale of 1 to 10, how scared are you?” he asked, stroking my hair tenderly again, like he had not just had me kiss his feet for nearly two minutes, and fisted my hair till tears sprang into my eyes.“4,” I replied sullenly, eyes on the floor.“And how much do you wish you could punch me?”I licked my lips, buying time to bite back the anger in my throat. I couldn’t let him know he was getting to me.“12.” I breathed, and the deep, deep laughter floated above my head, as the hand continued stroking my hair. He dropped into a squat so suddenly I jumped. Fortunately, I'd managed to keep my eyes down despite the jump scare, and now they were staring right at the dust of hair above his boxer briefs, where his erection lined against his left thigh.Then I saw a flash of silver and gasped, my eyes jerking up in horror this time. He smiled darkly, apparently thrilled that he had gotten the exact reaction he wanted.“Did I say you could