All Chapters of In Bed With The MC President: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

Mila "You barely met him this year. You don't know what fueled him the last few years.” Aaron had stated.He didn't wait for me to answer after that. He didn't need to. In his mind, the debate was already over.Aaron turned around and walked out of the bedroom, pulling the double doors shut behind him.I sat in silence against the headboard while my mind kept repeating the words Aaron had said.“He loves the violence more.”I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my hands over my ears as if I could physically block the memory of his voice. But nothing helped.Was he right?My mind violently rebelled against the thought, screaming Ryan 's name, clinging to the memory of his rough hands cupping my face, the soft, fiercely protective way he looked at me when we were alone. I loved him. He loved me. We were building a life together, a family together.But then, the darkness crept in.I remembered the nights Ryan came home at three in the morning with his knuckles split and bleeding. I reme

MilaElena shook her head slowly. "I don't know." She admitted. "Aaron has never spoken a single word of it to me. He keeps his past locked away in the same dark vault where he keeps his heart. But I know Aaron, Mila . He doesn't act on impulse. If he says the scales are unbalanced, if he believes Ryan owes him a debt from a decade ago... then, it is an undeniable fact.""But it's insane!" I let out in pure frustration as I leaned across the table. "I didn't even know Ryan ten years ago! My baby didn't exist ten years ago! You can't just steal a pregnant woman to settle a childhood grudge!""I don’t know how he sees it. But he surely doesn't view it as stealing." Elena corrected me.I stared at her blankly for a moment. I was a woman who was trapped between two brothers. The one who thought acting as the perfect CEO would comfort me and the other one thought.… well, at this point, I couldn't even figure what Aaron thought. But I needed to do something. I couldn't be trapped here fo

Reaper The rain was a freezing sheet against my face, but I didn't feel the cold. I didn't feel the ache in my joints or the exhaustion threatening to pull me under.I pushed the bike to its limit, tearing through the traffic. Gunner and the enforcers roared right behind me in a tight, aggressive V-formation.We hit the gates of the clubhouse in record time. The steel barriers were still warped and bent inward from where the extraction team's armored truck had rammed through them. My prospects were armed, standing guard in the torrential downpour with rifles strapped to their chests.I didn't wait for the bike to fully stop before I kicked the stand down and got off from it.I stormed through the double doors of the main bar. The clubhouse had no music, no laughter, no clinking glasses. It felt like a war room. The remaining brothers gave me a wide berth as I bypassed the main hall and headed straight for the steel door at the back that led down to the basement infirmary."Doc!" I b

MilaI didn't stop until I reached the double glass doors of the two-story library we had passed earlier. I shoved the doors open and stepped inside.I walked over to the nearest bookshelf and traced my fingers over the spines.First editions. Classics. Historical fiction. Biographies of obscure 19th-century monarchs. Every single genre I had ever spent hours wandering through the city's second-hand bookstores to find.I walked toward the center of the room, where a reading table sat beneath a modern chandelier. Resting in the center of the table was a leather-bound book, an expensive silk bookmark resting between its pages.I didn't even need to look at the title. I already knew.I reached out and flipped it open to where the silk ribbon lay. It was the beginning of chapter four. The Count of Monte Cristo.I stumbled backward, bumping hard into the leather armchair. The chair was upholstered in a velvet. The exact texture I loved to run my hands over."Oh my god." I breathed. It f

MilaLunch was served on a small, circular table by the window. Aaron sat at a right angle, close enough that I could feel his presence.On the table sat a bowl of Lemon Chicken Orzo soup.My stomach did a slow, nauseating flip. It was exactly what I used to crave on rainy days back in the fosters, before the club, before everything. I used to make it with cheap bouillon and wilted greens.This version was artisanal. The lemons were fresh, the chicken tender, the herbs vibrant."You aren't eating." Aaron said. He wasn't looking at me. He was cutting a piece of dry toast."I am not hungry.” I snapped as I pushed the bowl away.Without a word, he slid a small crystal ramekin toward me. Inside was a single, crushed peppermint leaf floating in ice water.I froze.I used to chew on peppermint to settle the morning sickness I had been hiding from everyone for weeks when I stayed in the Wylder Estate. I hadn't told anyone. Not even the doctor. I had bought the mint from a street vendor thre