The Biker's Rules
He wiggles a finger between him and her.
Mel stiffens, brows knitting.
“And then,” Alejandro continues, without a beat, deadpan, “he found out I’m his brother.”
Silence. Thick. Heavy.
“Brother?” Mel whispers. The resemblance hits her like a slap. Same mouth. Same hair. Same stubborn jaw. Same unfortunate talent for attracting violence.
Alejandro gives a small, crooked smile. “Yeah. Turns out Deimos is the father I’ve been looking for.”
Mel goes pale — really pale. Like she’s mentally calculating the distance to the nearest bathroom.