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Home / MM Romance / Owned by biker enemy / Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

All Chapters of Owned by biker enemy: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

32 Chapters

Three Days

Rafe was halfway through the paperwork spread across the desk when his phone started vibrating inside his pocket, the sound soft but sharp enough to make his stomach twist immediately because hardly anyone ever called him during working hours unless it was something he did not want the Devils overhearing.He glanced around quickly.The clubhouse was busy as usual, men walking in and out, voices rising and falling around the tables, but Marcus was standing across the room watching everything with that quiet suspicious look he always had whenever Rafe was nearby.Rafe slipped the phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen.His chest tightened instantly.He stood up quickly.“I need a minute,” Rafe muttered to one of the guys at the table even though the man had not asked anything.He pushed his chair back and started walking toward the exit.Marcus’ eyes followed him.Rafe could feel that gaze pressing against the back of his head as he walked outside and stepped into the narrow

Trust on Trial

For a second Rafe felt the cold rush of panic climbing up his spine when Dante asked for the phone, but he forced himself to stay calm because panic was the kind of thing men like Dante could smell from across the room and if he showed even a hint of fear then Marcus would notice too and that would make everything worse than it already was. So Rafe simply reached into his pocket. He pulled out the phone. Then he held it out. “Here,” Rafe said calmly. Dante did not take it immediately. His eyes stayed on Rafe’s face for another moment as though he was studying every muscle movement for signs of a lie. Marcus was sitting on the couch against the wall with his arms crossed, watching the entire scene with the kind of interest people usually had when they were expecting a train crash. Finally Dante took the phone. Rafe shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned back slightly against the table behind him, acting like none of this bothered him even though his mind was already replaying the

The Devil I Serve

FlashbackRafe came in earlier than usual that morning because once Dante decided he would work under him there was no point pretending the schedule belonged to anyone else, and the clubhouse was still quiet when he walked in with a cup of bad coffee and the same headache that had been sitting behind his eyes since the strange ride with Camila the night before.He dropped his bag near the desk and rubbed his face slowly.“Get your head straight,” he muttered under his breath.But it refused to get straight.The image of Camila sitting behind the wheel with those dark shades even though the streetlights were already on kept replaying in his mind and the way she barely spoke during the ride back to her place had been worse than if she had yelled at him.He picked up a stack of papers and sat down.“Morning,” one of the younger Devils said while walking past him.Rafe nodded distractedly.“Yeah.”His thoughts drifted again.The silence in the car had been unbearable.At one point he had

Divided Loyalties

The hotel room smelled faintly of detergent and something floral that Rafe could not place, and the door had barely clicked shut behind them before Camila kicked off her shoes and dropped her bag on the chair without even looking at him, her movements sharp and distant like she was already tired of the conversation she knew was coming.Rafe stood near the door for a moment.“I got called today,” he said finally.Camila turned around slowly.“By who,” she asked, her tone flat.“The head of operations,” Rafe replied.She nodded once as if he had just confirmed something she already knew.“And.”“And he cut my grace period,” Rafe continued, “three days.”Camila walked toward the window and pulled the curtain back slightly before letting it fall again.“That is not surprising,” she said.Rafe frowned.“You are not even reacting.”Camila turned to face him.“Why did you call me,” she asked calmly.Rafe hesitated.“Because I needed to know something.”She crossed her arms.“And instead of a

The Devil’s Test

Marcus was already talking by the time Dante finished lighting his cigarette, his voice filling the office with that familiar tone that always meant he had something he thought was important and urgent and irritating all at once.“I told you I would keep an eye on him,” Marcus said, dropping a small envelope on the desk, “and I was right to do it.”Dante glanced at the envelope without touching it.“You hired someone to follow him,” Dante said calmly.Marcus nodded.“Discreet,” he added quickly, “clean work.”Dante finally picked up the envelope and opened it, pulling out a small stack of printed photographs and spreading them across the desk slowly, his eyes scanning them one by one without changing expression.Rafe walking beside Camila.Rafe standing outside a hotel.Rafe leaning into a car window.Dante’s jaw tightened slightly.Marcus leaned forward.“He disappears at night,” Marcus continued, “and then suddenly he is meeting women and making calls and leaving the clubhouse at od

Marked as Compromised

The hotel room smelled faintly of detergent and something floral that Rafe could not place, and the door had barely clicked shut behind them before Camila kicked off her shoes and dropped her bag on the chair without even looking at him, her movements sharp and distant like she was already tired of the conversation she knew was coming.Rafe stood near the door for a moment.“I got called today,” he said finally.Camila turned around slowly.“By who,” she asked, her tone flat.“The head of operations,” Rafe replied.She nodded once as if he had just confirmed something she already knew.“And.”“And he cut my grace period,” Rafe continued, “three days.”Camila walked toward the window and pulled the curtain back slightly before letting it fall again.“That is not surprising,” she said.Rafe frowned.“You are not even reacting.”Camila turned to face him.“Why did you call me,” she asked calmly.Rafe hesitated.“Because I needed to know something.”She crossed her arms.“And instead of a

A Choice You Already Made

Marcus was already talking by the time Dante finished lighting his cigarette, his voice filling the office with that familiar tone that always meant he had something he thought was important and urgent and irritating all at once.“I told you I would keep an eye on him,” Marcus said, dropping a small envelope on the desk, “and I was right to do it.”Dante glanced at the envelope without touching it.“You hired someone to follow him,” Dante said calmly.Marcus nodded.“Discreet,” he added quickly, “clean work.”Dante finally picked up the envelope and opened it, pulling out a small stack of printed photographs and spreading them across the desk slowly, his eyes scanning them one by one without changing expression.Rafe walking beside Camila.Rafe standing outside a hotel.Rafe leaning into a car window.Dante’s jaw tightened slightly.Marcus leaned forward.“He disappears at night,” Marcus continued, “and then suddenly he is meeting women and making calls and leaving the clubhouse at od

Property of the Devil

Rafe stood there for a moment longer than he should have, his fingers hovering near Dante’s chest while his mind argued with his body, because everything in him wanted to step back and walk out and prove that he was not weak and not owned and not unraveling just because Dante looked at him like that.“I can do it,” Rafe said quietly.Dante’s gaze stayed on him.“I know you can,” Dante replied.That was the part that annoyed him the most.Rafe stepped closer and placed his fingers on the first button of Dante’s shirt, his movements deliberate and careful as if he was performing a task he wanted to be graded on, and he unbuttoned it slowly, not because he was nervous but because he wanted Dante to see that he was choosing this pace and not being rushed or pushed.“You are very slow,” Dante said calmly.“I was told to finish it,” Rafe replied, “not to rush.”Dante hummed softly but said nothing else.Rafe continued unbuttoning the shirt one button at a time, his fingers brushing skin now

You Signed Your Freedom Away

Rafe stared at the paper like if he kept looking long enough the words would rearrange themselves into something less final, something he could argue his way out of, but the sentence stayed exactly where it was and every time his eyes moved over it his chest tightened all over again.“That is not real,” Rafe said quietly.Dante leaned back against the desk.“It is very real.”Rafe shook his head slowly.“You cannot own a person,” he said, his voice firm even though his hands were trembling slightly, “that contract cannot be legal and you know it.”Dante folded his arms.“You were not forced to sign it,” he replied calmly.“That does not make it right.”“It makes it binding,” Dante said.Rafe looked up sharply.“You are telling me I cannot leave,” he said, “and even if I walk out of this building I still belong to you.”“Yes.”Rafe laughed softly but there was no humor in it.“That is insane.”“You signed,” Dante repeated.Rafe pressed his fingers into the paper.“I was rushing,” he sa

A Line Was Crossed

Rafe wanted out of the boardroom the second Marcus said his name, because the air in there had already turned sour and the looks being thrown around were sharp enough to cut, but he knew better than to ignore Marcus outright, so he swallowed his irritation and turned back slowly, past the table, past the chairs, past the men who suddenly found the ceiling very interesting.“Follow me,” Marcus said shortly.Rafe nodded once and did exactly that, keeping his expression blank even though his jaw was already aching from how hard he was clenching it.The walk down the hallway felt longer than it actually was, Marcus moving fast and stiff ahead of him like he was itching for a fight, and Rafe keeping a careful distance behind, already rehearsing every answer he might need because Marcus was not the type of man who called someone aside just to chat.Marcus opened his office door and stepped in.Rafe followed.The door closed.Marcus went straight to his desk and dropped into his chair withou

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