In Bed With The MC President의 모든 챕터: 챕터 161 - 챕터 170

MilaI am hoping, with every single breath I have, that you choose to stay.I stared at the man sitting in the rocking chair for a moment longer. Then I slowly turned around and set my mug of tea down on the windowsill."Give him to me." I whispered softly.Aaron’s jaw tightened. A flash of pure fear crossed his striking green eyes. He thought this was it. He thought I was taking my son and walking out the door. But he didn't argue. True to his word, he slowly stood up and carefully transferred Leo’s warm, sleeping body into my arms.His large hands lingered for a fraction of a second against mine before he pulled away, stepping back to give me space.I turned and walked over to the wooden crib. Gently, I lowered Leo onto the soft mattress, tucking the lightweight yellow blanket around his small shoulders. I lingered for a moment, listening to his steady breathing, before I straightened my spine and turned back around.Aaron was still standing by the rocking chair. His hands were sh

MilaThe next afternoon, the sun was just as bright, the estate grounds were just as quiet, and my anxiety was just as high.I walked into the underground garage, fully prepared to apologize to the charcoal-gray Aston Martin before getting behind the wheel. But the sleek sports car was entirely missing from the center bay.In its place sat a matte-black Mercedes G-Wagon. It looked less like a luxury vehicle and more like a military-grade assault tank."You hid the Aston.” I observed, crossing my arms as Aaron emerged from the shadows of the garage, holding two steaming ceramic mugs of coffee."I didn't hide it." Aaron replied smoothly, handing me one of the mugs. "I simply relocated it.""Because I am a menace to the road.""Because this." Aaron tapped the steel of the G-Wagon’s hood, "has a reinforced steel frame, a roll cage and enough side-impact airbags to withstand a small missile. The Aston is beautiful but if you decide to play chicken with another oak tree today, I would pref

RyanThe city of Chicago looked entirely different from the eightieth floor of the Empire Group Tower.From the streets below, it was alive. Loud, gritty, vibrating with the relentless pulse of survival. It smelled of exhaust fumes, stale beer leaking from corner taverns, and rain slicking over cracked pavement. Down there, you had to fight for every single inch of ground you stood on.Up here, it was just a silent sea of twinkling lights, safely sealed behind two inches of soundproof, bulletproof glass.Up here, you couldn’t hear the screams.I took a slow sip of the thirty-year-old Macallan scotch in my glass, letting the burn coat my throat. I was standing in the corner of the grand ballroom, completely separated from the three hundred wealthy socialites, corporate sharks, and politicians mingling behind me.Empire Group’s annual spring gala.A year ago, if someone had told me I would be standing in this room, wearing a perfectly tailored black tuxedo and a Rolex that cost more tha

RyanA year ago, if a woman had approached me while I was mourning, I would have exploded. I would have shattered the whiskey bottle against the wall and roared at her to get out until the windows shook.But the Reaper was dead. The man sitting in this chair was nothing more than a hollow, corporate shell built by Richard Wylder.I didn't move away from her touch. I didn't raise my voice.I simply slowly turned my head and looked directly into her eyes.Amelia’s fingers brushed against the open collar of my dress shirt. Her touch was light, practiced, and intentionally provocative. She was waiting for me to snap, waiting for the legendary, volatile street king to either throw her out or pull her onto the glass desk.I did neither. I just sat perfectly still, my blood heavy with thirty-year-old scotch and absolute despair.She took my silence as a surrender.A triumphant, predatory gleam flashed in her dark eyes. She stepped entirely into the space between my spread knees, the crimson

VivianI didn't take another step. I didn't even breathe.I was completely terrified that if I made even a fraction of a sound, the fragile, breathtaking vulnerability of this moment would instantly shatter, and the ruthless CEO of Empire Group would slam his armor back into place.But the atmosphere in the room fundamentally changed the second I crossed the threshold.I watched the exact second he felt me.Aaron’s shoulders went entirely, perfectly still.The deep, ragged breath he had just drawn into his chest caught in his throat. He held it there, perfectly frozen, like a man who suddenly realized he was standing on the edge of a massive cliff.I could see the sudden, rigid tension locking every single muscle in his back beneath the thin cotton of his dress shirt.He didn't need to look up to know who had breached his fortress. He didn't need to hear my footsteps. His soul simply recognized mine, just like it had when we were kids in a broken system.He knew I was there.Slowly,