All Chapters of The Biker's Favorite Sinner: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Lila’s POV“TAKE YOUR time with that page. There is no rush.”Marco’s voice was calm, unhurried, the kind of tone that made a person breathe a little easier without realizing it.I looked up from the stack of papers in front of me and offered a small smile. “You have been saying that for two hours.”“And I will keep saying it,” he replied, returning the smile. “Legal documents should never be rushed, especially when they involve a lifetime of decisions.”The law office annex sat on the edge of town, a neat brick building that felt strangely modern compared to the rest of Montgomery territory. Inside, everything smelled faintly of coffee and polished wood. The blinds were half open, letting in soft afternoon light.It was quiet here.Peaceful.A small round table separated Marco and me, covered in folders, contract

Lila’s POV“PUT ON something nice. We are going out.”That was the first thing Adrian said to me when he walked into the bedroom that evening.I looked up from the suitcase I had been pretending to unpack and frowned. “Out where?”“Into town,” he answered easily. “Dinner. A proper dinner.”The word proper made my shoulders tense.“You want to have dinner here?” I asked.“Of course,” he said, already reaching for his tie. “It is important. Showing respect to the community and all that.”Respect.He said it like it was a business strategy instead of something you felt.“I thought you hated the town,” I muttered.“I hate the inconvenience,” he corrected with a smile. “But appearances matter.”Appearances always mattered to Adrian.I stood in front of the mirror a little later, smoothing down the simple black dress I had chosen. It was nothin

Lila’s POVTHE ESTATE study was too quiet for a house that large.Morning light filtered in through tall windows, catching dust motes that drifted lazily above the desk. Everything smelled faintly of leather and polished wood. It was the kind of room meant to project authority, permanence, and legacy. The kind of room where decisions were supposed to feel inevitable.Marco sat across from me, sleeves rolled neatly, a thin stack of documents laid out between us. No rush. No looming presence. He waited while I finished reading a paragraph twice because the words refused to stick.“Take your time,” he said.I nodded, though I wasn’t sure what I was taking time for. The document itself was straightforward. Preliminary details. Safeguards. Clauses that protected assets and ensured continuity. It was the emotional weight that made my chest feel tight.“This is just an outline,” I said, more to ground myself than to inform him.“Yes,” he agreed. “Nothing here is binding yet.”I set the page

Lila’s POV“YOU’VE been quiet all evening.”Adrian closed the bedroom door behind him with deliberate care, like he was sealing us inside a version of the night he’d already rehearsed. The room smelled faintly of lavender from the linen spray the housekeeper favored. Everything was too neat. Too arranged.“I’m tired,” I said.He loosened his tie, watching me in the mirror instead of directly. “You’ve been tired for days.”Grief, I almost said. But I had learned that naming things made him defensive. So I stayed quiet, sitting on the edge of the bed, fingers tracing the seam of the comforter.He crossed the room and sat beside me. Close enough that his knee brushed mine. Close enough to feel intentional.“This place is getting into your head,” he said gently. “Anyone would struggle after coming back to something like this.”Something like this. He never said my father. Never said death. He talked around it like a hazard sign.“I grew up here,” I said.“Yes,” he replied quickly. “And yo

Lila’s POV“DID YOU sleep at all?”Adrian’s voice cut through the quiet like a blade wrapped in silk.I looked up from my coffee and met his smile, the one he used in boardrooms and charity galas. Warm. Controlled. Empty at the edges.“A little,” I said.It was a lie. I had slept in fragments, waking every hour with the chapel still pressed behind my eyes and Jacob’s voice echoing in my ribs. You don’t have to choose tonight.The estate dining room was already too full for how early it was. Morning light spilled through the tall windows, catching dust in the air and turning it into something almost holy. The long table felt like a stage, every seat occupied, every presence charged.Michael sat at the head, posture stiff, jaw tight. He hadn’t touched his plate. His coffee had gone cold.Marco sat to my right, calm as ever, sleeves rolled