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

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 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 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

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

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