Claimed By The Biker Giant Novels & Stories

“While you still can. The biker crew president—Garrett—walked the battlefield like a king. “You broke an alpha’s nose and stole his bike. I'm not sure if that's guts or stupidity. I haven’t decided yet.” His eyes found mine. “But you’re claimed, and you have the club's protection.” A pause. “Understand, there is no easy exit—except by their word.” He nodded to my mates. "Or death," he finished. Not a threat, but a statement of fact, understood by every biker here.

Strange how something so small could punch me right in the chest. She leaned back, beaming. “This is my daddy!” Her voice carried across the yard. Every kid and their mother turned. Hope spun around, hands on her hips like a queen. “He’s rich, he has plenty cars!” she bragged, chin high. Then she pointed at one boy. “Does your daddy have a Bugatti? Or a Ferrari? Or—” I coughed. “Hope.” She ignored me, still puffing her chest. “Or a Lamborghini?”

She sounds so surprised. "Omg, you know him? Can you help me with him?" The other girl giggled. "Girl, are you kidding? He's like a famous CEO, and he's a freaking billionaire!" I sucked on my lower lip. Is that true? "I can't believe he's here right now. As far as I know, he's not from this city," I heard the girl add. "But I hope he's staying long as our professor and not just here for a project or something."

Most parents wanted to talk about their kids but Lily’s dad seemed not to want to talk to her at all. Just when she was losing hope of seeing him, the sound of a motorcycle shook the building. She watched the man getting off the huge black Harley looked like something from a bad dream. He was tall and wide, he walked with a lot of confidence, his dark hair was pulled back, and even from far away, she could see the tattoos on his arms like sleeves. "Are you the teacher?" His voice was rough as he approached which made her want to step back. "Ms. Vance," she said. She put her hand out with a fake smile. "Thank you for coming, Mr. Miller. Please, have a seat."

He explained. "Really?" Sam asked. "Yeah, I do. Don't you?" He asked. "I've never thought about it. But I figured bikers didn't do kids." Sam replied. "Bikers are like anyone else. Some do and some don't. Our club isn't into the illegal shit so I'm good with kids." Smokey explained. "So, give it some thought." Sam nodded. "Guess who's coming to the clubhouse this weekend?" Smokey asked. "Snake?" Sam asked.

He had a glass of wine to his hands as well as a mic. "Today, we are here to celebrate the founder of our Biker company. Introducing to you all, Mr Ignazio, Vincenzo Thomson." "Yeah..." Indistinctive chattering filled the air and everyone clapped their hands in awaitance of his arrival. On the contrary my body stiffened at the sound of his name, and just in, he emerged to the stage. My eyes widened in awe. Wait. Mr Ignazio Vincenzo Thompson, one who should be my acting father is the owner of our Biker agency? Wow this... This felt oddly unbelievable.

Crowe, entry thirty one, matte black bike* I went and pulled everything. The surface layer was straightforward. Jaxen Crowe, twenty eight. Director and founder of the Moon Biker's Club, established four years ago as a regional outfit and expanded within eighteen months into something that made the industry pay attention. Clean record, no charges, no civil suits, nothing that would raise a flag on a standard background check. Tax filings current. Business registration clean. The kind of paper trail that belonged to someone who either had very good lawyers or was genuinely careful about how he operated.

Kenzie demands. He turns around with anger on his face and crosses his arms. A few of his brothers snicker. He glances at them and they look away. "You know I'm really disappointed in you. I encouraged Macie to give you a shot. Told her not to believe all those stories that bikers are thugs, criminals, and heartless bastards. I told her there's good and bad in all people. And I hate to be proved wrong!" She began. "I told her just because you're a biker, it didn't mean you weren't a decent guy. But boy did you prove me wrong!" He tries to speak but she holds up her hand. "No, you don't talk, I'm talking!"

He replied, while pouring her a glass of the sangria she brought. The meal progressed and she enjoyed Drakes company and his cooking. During their dinner conversation, she learned that he was a Rhodes Scholar and a Yale graduate. He had graduated with a double major of law and business. He had taught himself to cook. He enjoyed a challenge, mental or otherwise and whether he bested it or was bested, he learned from it. His double major had been proof of his love of a challenge. His family was very wealthy. Old money. With that money, he helped the people that he could. When he formed the motorcycle club, it was with the idea to help women escape from deadly abusive relationships, and assi

"It's preferable to go home." Afterwards, we put our shoes and immediately head to his bike. We came to the beach on his big sleek motorcycle. It's an amazing black Kawasaki Ninja with some prominent white outlines. I was afraid to have a ride on this beast at first, but I trusted Eren though he tried to scare the hell out of me by burning up the road like grease lightning.