All Chapters of Biker's Forbidden Desire: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

AXEL POVThe digital clock on the dashboard flickered to 4:00 AM.The city never slept, but at this hour, it breathed heavily, a monster momentarily at rest. I drove aimlessly through the empty, rain-slicked streets of Manhattan, the silence inside the car a stark contrast to the ringing in my ears. The scent of copper, gunpowder, and cheap warehouse dust was still trapped in the fabric of my clothes. I had saved my son, but the look in Emilia’s eyes when she threw my sins back in my face had cut deeper than any bullet ever could.“You named him after my brother... and all you’ve done is put him in the same grave.”Her voice haunted me, vibrating against my skull. She was right. Marco had died because of the crown. And now, three days into his life, our son had nearly suffered the exact same fate.I found myself pulling through the iron gates of the mansion. I didn't want to be here, but my feet carried me to the office anyway. Vincent’s old office. The seat of the Moretti empire. I s

EMILIA POVI couldn't just sit there. I couldn't pretend to be the good little mafia wife waiting at home while Axel bared his throat to the Commission—the five families, the absolute apex of power and brutality in New York.Isabella had tried to pace the hospital room with me, her voice trembling beneath her bandages. "He’ll be fine, Em. He’s smart. He knows how to speak their language.""And if they refuse to let him walk?" I had asked, my voice rising. "What then?"She had no answer. Because we both knew the truth: the Commission didn't just let people retire. You left that table in a casket, or you didn't leave it at all.

EMILIA POVMy first day as Donna.I woke before the alarms, my heart hammering a frantic, erratic rhythm against my ribs. The morning light was a muted grey, filtering softly through the heavy velvet curtains. Beside me, Axel was already awake. He was staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, his jaw clamped so tight a muscle ticked violently in his cheek."You okay?" I asked, my voice cracking slightly in the quiet room."No," he said, his tone flat, entirely stripped of its usual warmth. "But I will be.""We're doing the right thing, Axel.""Keep telling yourself that, Em."It wasn't encouraging. But it was honest.I forced myself out of bed, shoving the lingering dread deep into the pit of my stomach. I showered, washing away the phantom scent of hospital bleach, and spent twenty minutes in front of the closet. I needed a suit armor. I chose a tailored, charcoal-grey power suit—professional, conservative, and sharp enough to cut glass. I d

EMILIA POV "Are you?" Axel challenged, his eyes boring into mine, stripping away my corporate armor. "Or are you dragging your feet because you actually love the weight of that crown? Admit it, Emilia. You like being the Donna. You like the control. You like the fact that twenty hardened killers hold their breath when you walk into a room."I choked on my next breath, the words dying in my throat. I wanted to scream at him, to tell him he was wrong, to call him a hypocrite.But I couldn't. Because deep down, in the quiet, ugly corners of my mind, I knew he was right.I did like it. I liked the sharp, intoxicating thrill of commanding a room. I liked the intellectual victory of out-maneuvering men who had spent their lives playing a bloody game. For the first time in my life, I wasn't a victim of the mafia. I wasn't a bargaining chip or a grieving sister. I was the master of the board."So what if I do?" I challenged, lifting my chin, my voice turning r

AXEL POVEmilia came home late. Again.The grandfather clock in the hallway was chiming midnight when the heavy front doors clicked shut. I was sitting in the dim light of our bedroom, rocking Marco. He was eight months old, teething violently, his cheeks flushed a brilliant, feverish red. He’d been crying for hours—sharp, inconsolable shrieks that tore at my chest because no matter how I paced, no matter how much chilled teething gel I used, I couldn't give him peace."Hey," a quiet voice whispered from the doorway.I looked up. Emilia stood framed by the threshold, her charcoal-grey power suit pristine, though her eyes carried the heavy glaze of exhaustion. "Is he okay?""Teething," I said, my voice rough and clipped. "Been crying fo