All Chapters of The Biker's Bride Wants Revenge: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

39 Chapters

1: How Long Has It Been Since Your Hysterectomy?

FIVE YEARS AGOAURORA HALE“How long has it been since your hysterectomy, Mrs. Hale?”For a second, I honestly think Dr. Blaze is joking. Or maybe I’m hearing things.“My what?” I laugh lightly, shaking my head. “No, no—there’s been some mix-up. I’ve never had a hysterectomy.”Dr. Blaze’s brows pinch together. “Aurora… according to your scans, your uterus was surgically removed about three months ago. It would explain the absence of menstruation.”That stops me cold.But only for a moment. Then I laugh again, harder this time, because this whole thing is ridiculous.I’m only here because I missed two periods. Normally, I’d brush it off—stress is practically part of my job description as head designer at Wardrobe, my husband’s global fashion empire. But after Victor made me get an abortion, I needed to be sure I wasn’t pregnant again.“Doctor, I think someone filed something wrong. I only had an abortion. Three months ago. The procedure Victor arranged—nothing else.”Her face tightens.

Last Updated : 2025-09-12

2: The Great Christian Voss

FIVE YEARS LATERDAMIEN “REAPER” VOSS“It’s the sixteenth.” My lighter flicks open, flame snapping bright. The guy kneeling at my feet flinches like I’m about to torch him. Pathetic. My men hold him down while he spits excuses.“Your money’s coming, Reaper, I swear—”I sigh. Loud. “That’s what you said last month.” I snap the lighter shut, let the silence chew him up. “So tell me—am I stupid, or are you suicidal?”He stammers. I don’t listen. I’m already irritated I even had to show up for this. Normally, I send Bones, my Sergeant-at-Arms, to shake down debtors. But it’s either this or be at my old cranker’s house, listening to him lecture me about Wendy Osborne.The heiress who keeps throwing herself at me like I’m her goddamn prize. Out of all people, she could’ve chased Christian—the polished twin, the safe one, the one our old man parades around. But no. She wants me.Can’t say I blame her. Exceptional taste and all. But become a pawn in a marriage to link two rich families? Hard

Last Updated : 2025-09-19

3: Five Dollar Whore

DAMIENIt’s brutal, really—being mistaken for your twin by the most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid eyes on. Every instinct screams to set her straight, but I bite it back. Because I can see it in those hazel eyes that the only reason she hasn’t brushed me off already is because she thinks I’m him.Fucking hell.So I give her a lazy grin, lean an inch closer. “And tell me, sweetheart… what exactly did you expect from Christian Voss?”She narrows her eyes, then reaches out. I hold my breath through the three charged seconds it takes before her palm—burning hot—skims my cheek. My hand lifts, ready to catch hers, but she veers at the last second, fingers snagging on the scruff along my jaw.“Your hair’s longer.”My lips curve. “Dangerous observation. You planning to punish me for it?”Her mouth tilts, not quite a smile. “No. Just unexpected. It… looks good on you.” She lets go like she’s already over it, dismissing me with a flick of her hand. “Didn’t think you’d dress like this either.

Last Updated : 2025-10-12

4: Who You Are And Who You Know

RHEA“We’re here with Elara Hale—Head Designer of the wildly popular Wardrobe and wife of CEO Victor Hale. One half of New York’s favourite power couple. This week’s NYFW lineup has cemented Wardrobe as the most influential fashion brand in the world. When Wardrobe began, did you ever imagine reaching this level?”Elara crosses her legs on-screen, polished and perfect. I button the cuffs of my shirt as I watch, sitting in an apartment that’s technically a downgrade from hell, but still better than a prison cell. The ceiling leaks, rats hold nightly concerts, the heater’s dead… but there’s a bed, a roommate who snores instead of stabs, and most days, that’s enough.Elara smiles. “I always knew my husband was destined for success, so none of this surprises me. His vision and my designs built Wardrobe. I never doubted we’d make it.”The interviewer beams like she’s been personally blessed. I glue the sole of my shoe back on and dig around for my bag.“Of course. And do you have any advic

Last Updated : 2025-12-05

5: Treating Bosses Like Prostitutes

RHEATHE NIGHT BEFOREWe’re kissing before the door even closes. His mouth slams over mine, tongue pushing in deep, taking what he wants. I bite back, sucking his tongue, grinding my lips against his until we’re both gasping.I yank his belt open, tossing it while he pins me against the door, one hand shoving my dress up my thighs. His fingers slide higher, find my panties, rub my clit hard through the lace.“Ah—fuck!” I moan loud into his mouth, hips bucking into his hand.He growls, breaks the kiss only to rip my dress over my head. It’s gone. He stares at me in just a bra and panties, eyes pure hunger. He licks his lips slowly. “Jesus, Ash. You’re fucking perfect.”I grab his jacket, shove it off. He pulls his t-shirt off. I go for his pants, unzip fast, shove them down. He kicks them away. My bra is next—he unhooks it rough, yanks it off. His hands are on my breasts instantly, squeezing hard, thumbs flicking my nipples until they’re tight and aching.“Harder,” I demand, pushing in

Last Updated : 2026-01-01

6: My Kitten

RHEAI’m still trying to accept that this is actually happening when one of the board members — a balding man with sweat shining at his temples — clears his throat again. “Mr. Da—”“Oh, relax,” he cuts in, flicking a lazy hand. His other hand keeps turning the note over between his fingers. “My brother won’t hear a word from me.”A pause.“But that doesn’t mean this mess won’t eventually crawl its way back to him. Employee evaluations are what — two weeks away?”Oh.So, that’s his play.The room locks up. Not a single spine stays straight.He opens the note again, eyes skimming it with a softness that makes my jaw tighten. The contrast is jarring. Someone beside me grips the edge of the table hard enough that it creaks.“This is usually when people start making better choices,” he says lightly, lifting his stare to sweep the room. Slow. Unrushed. Dangerous. “Wouldn’t you agree?”Nobody dares answer.I click my tongue silently. Really? Not one of them has the spine to knock that smugne

Last Updated : 2026-01-01

7: I’ve Been Waiting For You

RHEA When I step out of the building, his motorcycle is nowhere to be found. I scan the street, jaw tight, swallowing the curse threatening to spill out of me. Figures. Of course he’d disappear the second I actually want to confront him. I pull out my phone, it’s Roofus’s old one. A battered flip phone that belongs in a museum. I scroll through the painfully short contact list, thumb hovering over Titan, already rehearsing the verbal massacre I’m about to unleash on her— A hand lands on my shoulder. My body reacts before my brain does. It takes everything in me not to break his wrist and put him face-first into the pavement. Prison fine-tuned my instincts toward violence in ways I don’t like to think about. I flinch instead because the grip is solid. Controlled. Strong. I turn. He’s big. Broad shoulders, thick arms, late thirties maybe. Leather jacket. The same kind Damien wears. Even the tattoo curling up his neck—a snake—looks unsettlingly familiar. “Miss Rhea?” he says.

Last Updated : 2026-01-01

8: The Wrong Brother

RHEAI take my sweet time looking around the mechanic’s shop—anywhere but at my kidnapper, who’s wiping black grime off his still very shirtless body. I’m assuming it’s engine oil. I refuse to care.Jude drops me off and disappears just as suddenly as he showed up. One second he’s there, the next he’s gone. Not even Oldie pays him any mind.Every tool, every bike I look at makes my anger spike higher. It builds. It coils. And eventually, I can’t hold it in anymore.I’ve learned one important thing in life—get things off your chest immediately.It’s that, or end up back in prison for murder.“What am I doing here?” I snap. “Why did you lie to me? And why the hell do you even exist—”“One question at a time, Dot.” Damien smiles, and somehow that makes it worse. “Can you pass me the wrench? The one right next to you.”I hurl it at his head. Not to maim. Just to find an outlet for the throb in my chest.He laughs and catches it easily. “Thanks, Rhea.”I bristle. “So you do know my name. Y

Last Updated : 2026-01-01

9: Be My Wife

RHEA“Marry me, Rhea Ashford. Be my wife.”What?That’s all my brain can manage. I just stare at him, mouth open, frozen.He doesn’t care. He pulls back, like he didn’t just drop a bomb in my chest, and folds his arms.“I answered all three of your questions, Dot,” he says calmly. “You can’t keep pretending you don’t know anything about me now.”I gape at him. Unsure if I believe my ears. He laughs.“Wow,” he says. “Is that all it takes to shut you up? I don’t like it. I much prefer it when you’re pushing every last one of my buttons.”I barely hear him. My ears are still ringing.“You want me to marry you?” I finally manage.“Do I need to get on one knee for it to count?”I bark out a laugh, sharp and disbelieving. “I’m not some innocent maiden from the 1600s. You don’t have to marry me because we slept together.” I gesture wildly between us. “We fucked, Damien. Once. It meant nothing. I don’t know you. You don’t know me—” I cut myself off with another laugh. “Is this a joke?”His ex

Last Updated : 2026-01-01

10: Woman Like Me

RHEADamien does have someone take me home.It’s a kind-looking elderly man, and to my surprise, he pulls up in a black Mercedes. Maybe all the motorbikes I’ve been on in the last twenty-four hours have finally scrambled my brain, because the sight genuinely throws me.“Thank you,” I tell him as he opens the back door for me. I slide in, and he waits until I’m settled before smiling, pleased as anything.“Anything for Prez’s old lady.”I don’t even get the chance to correct him before he shuts the door gently and walks around to the driver’s seat. Once inside, he gestures to a small button near the armrest.“You can slide the glass up if you’d like some privacy.”Grateful, I’m just about to do it when I remember something. “I’ll need to give you directions. My place is…” I hesitate, unable to find a polite word for run-down or dumpster-fire. “Very remote.”“Nonsense,” the old man—Ernest, I’ve learnt—waves me off. “Prez already told me everything I need to know. You just sit back and m

Last Updated : 2026-01-01

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