All Chapters of When You Make A Deal With The Biker Mafia : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

AdrianaH-how did we even spend that much?” I whispered, receipts scattered across my lap like confetti after a birthday party. The numbers blurred together, too many zeros stacked up in rows, and I suddenly felt guilty spending so much when they were kids who didn't even know where their next meal would come from.Ruby threw her head back, laughing in that carefree way only she could. “Girl, you’re acting brand new. Victoria’s Secret lace, silk, thigh highs, garters… not to mention those Louis Vuitton bags and kellys. And don’t forget you spoiled me, too. You’re generous when you’re swiping someone else’s gold card.”I bit my lip, cheeks heating. “Yeah, I guess,” I mumbled, staring out the tinted window of the cyber truck.When we pulled up to Ruby’s building, Lorenzo climbed out first, effortlessly lifting her mountain of bags. Marco followed behind, joking under his breath in Italian. I waved Ruby off, hugging her tight, her perfume sticking to me.“You’ll thank me later, babe,” s

MatteoLast night with my wife hadn’t left my system. Adriana was still all over me.Her scent, her taste, the way her body shook when I drove her my tongue into her, How she trembled and begged on the table. Even now, my mouth still carried the taste of her sweetness, and it was clouding my fucking head. If I didn’t get myself together, I was going to lose control, and when a Don loses control, people die.I moved through the casino with my usual stride. The workers lowered their heads; some greeted me quickly, others pretended to busy themselves. Fear was good and respect was even better. I demanded both. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ruby at one of the tables. She wore the casino’s standard uniform but with jewellery I’d never seen before glinting on her neck and wrists. She smiled at me nervously, and I sighed. Adriana’s little friend was already getting too comfortable in our world.I headed downstairs to the offices. Mine, Marco’s, and Lorenzo’s private space, built beneath

AdrianaI woke up to light slaps across my cheek. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming. My lashes fluttered open, and all I saw was an old woman hovering over me with a feather duster in hand.“What is—” I croaked, groggy, my body still sore from last night with Matteo.Then another slap came, only this time it wasn’t her palm, it was the damn duster. Dust exploded across my face, choking me, falling into my hair.I sat up, furious, yanking the sheets around me. “What on earth is wrong with you? Does Matteo sleep with women this old now? Get the hell out of my home!”Her lips pulled back in a cruel grin. “You little brat. Who the fuck are you calling old? I’m tired of the Don’s little girlfriends prancing around here like they own the place. I have work to do. Move.”Her tone made my blood heat, but it was Lorenzo’s words echoing in my head that anchored me. You are Matteo’s wife. Stand tall, don’t let anyone diminish you.“Girlfriend?” I repeated, narrowing my eyes, anger bubbling.

AdrianaThe sketch felt alive beneath my hands, but not in the way I intended. My pencil had started on the skyline, the bold lines of Manhattan rising across the paper, each tower piercing the white page with shadows of power. But my mind betrayed me somewhere between the steel and glass lines.The shoulder I shaded wasn’t a skyscraper. The curve belonged to him.Matteo.I let the pencil move, sketching the ridge of a muscle I’d memorised with my fingertips, the way his chest lifted when he breathed beside me at night, the sharp line of his jaw that cut sharper than any blade.He haunted my canvas as surely as he haunted me.And in my mind’s eye, he wasn’t dressed in the tailored suits or heavy jackets of his world.No.He was bare. Naked. Skin stretched over the scars of a man who had bled, who had killed, who had conquered. My thighs pressed together as I imagined dipping a brush into paint and tracing every line of his torso, sliding lower, down to where the shadows would swall

AdrianaThe fire looked like it was alive, wild orange flames clawing at the broken shape of Matteo’s car.The heat hit my face even from up here, a wave of burning air that stung my eyes and blurred everything in smoke. My body felt locked, paralyzed in my seat as the crowd shrieked and scattered around me.Then I saw movement from the corner of my eyes; it was Marco and Lorenzo. They were already on the track, sprinting through smoke with a fire extinguisher between them. They didn’t hesitate. They aimed at the hood, blasting white foam across the fire until it hissed and sputtered and died in thick smoke.The car sat there afterwards, steaming and broken. It didn’t even look like a car anymore; it was just twisted steel crushed flat, deflated like some monster had chewed it up and spat it out.Tears burned my eyes before I even realised they were falling. My chest cracked open, raw sobs climbing up my throat. My hands shook so badly I could barely grip the railing. Then, like snapp