The Biker's Claim
A virgin at thirty? A plus-size? Yes, that's Hera. After a painful heartbreak, she shuts herself off and chooses to focus on her career. Well, that's until She meets Mason aka Viper, the leader of Shadow riders motorcycle club on her way to her best friends wedding. He stakes his claim on her but life has a way of messing people up. Past traumas and bitter Ex's crawl on them. Hera has a secret, will Mason accept this side of her when he learns about it?
***
He is ready to settle, she only wants to play around. He is Jepoy aka Zero. The deadly weapon of the club, yet she elopes his traps, avoiding his claim.
She was not always like this, a traumatic marriage changed her. He saved her from him, but he can't save her from the hell she lives in everyday. Chloe knows she isn't ready to settle, Jepoy knows he must stake a claim on her. Two wounded souls, two different destination, is there a future for them?
TRIGGER WARNING: The story contains sensitive information.
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Chapter 2
I stand frozen contemplating whether to turn around and face him or just walk away. What rotten luck I have.
Carlos is the last person I want to set my eyes on. He's the reason I left my home Last Vegas and ventured into a foreign land.
" Hera," He calls again and I am forced to turn around and face him. He starts working towards me.
I conceal my feelings, assuming a blank expression on my face.
" I wasn't expecting to see you here." He beams at me and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. What's the probability that he will be at the hotel lobby where Chloe's wedding will be taking place?
Chloe hates his guts so we can forget about her inviting him.
" Neither was I. I have to say, your presence just ruined my day." I don't try to be polite with him. He doesn't deserve it.
I watch as the smile he was putting on his face falls, replaced by a guilty look.
" Hera, do you still resent me for what I did to you?" He asks and I don't stop the scoff that leaves my lips.
" You tell me, shouldn't I? You embarrassed me, insulted me and made fun of me for being different from others. Should I thank you instead?" I hiss, suddenly forgetting where I am.
The nerve of him to ask me that.
Carlos looks around, embarrassment evident on his face.
" Are you embarrassed now? Why didn't you feel that when you called me fat before my friends? Do you want me to shut up? But I want everyone here to know what kind of a person you are." I continue to taunt him.
Carlos looks like someone who just peed on his pants .
" Stay away from me. You are the last thing I want to look at." With that, I turn around and walk away.
***
The wedding is everything Chloe always dreamt of-elegant, glamorous, and entirely fitting for the couple. Her new man seems more descent than her last two exes. I know eyes can lie but I want to believe my first impression of him.
I sit in one of the front rows, trying to keep my nerves in check as I watch my best friend walk down the aisle. Chloe's gown shimmers in the evening sunlight, and for a fleeting moment,I feel a pang of longing in her chest.
It isn't that I don't want Chloe to be happy-of course I do. But a part of me couldn't help but wonder if I would ever get my own "I do" moment.
I watch Chloe exchange vows with her new husband and I allow myself a moment of reflection.
"Maybe it's just not meant to be for me." I mutter under my breath.
My eyes wander around and come to a locked gaze with my sister's mocking face. I look away immediately,not allowing myself to feel bad about it.
She and Chloe aren't even close so I know she came here purposely to remind me how useless I am.
I allow myself to get lost in watching my best friend have her best moment.
When her new husband leans to kiss her,my heart flutters on her behalf.
I have never been the type to pine for a fairy tale romance. Maybe before,but things are different now. Seeing Chloe so sure of her love however stirred something inside me.
The truth is,I ain't sure how to even begin looking for a love like that. What can a woman like me have to offer someone? I am a bit older than most bridesmaids. Let's not mention my inexperience. Which man in hís right mind will believe that I am a virgin at thirty plus years?
Even if they do, I bet they'd run away after hearing that.
A plus size, old ànd inexperienced virgin maiden? What an odd combo.
The reception is in full buzz and I excuse myself for a moment of quiet. I needed a drink, and maybe a break from the constant buzz of conversation. Most importantly,I plan to avoid my sister in every way possible.
I am not going to give her the pleasure of annoying me on this happy day. My encounter with Carlos earlier is enough for today.
The hotel's bar is sleek, modern, and nearly as extravagant as the wedding venue.
What did I expect though? This is a fucking five star hotel.
I slid onto a bar stool and scan the display of exotic drinks before me. I am not much of a drinker, but I feel like making an exception this evening.
"Can I get a cosmopolitan please," I say to the bartender, trying to relax, but my mind for some reason keeps wandering back to the wedding.
The soft sound of footsteps behind me makes me turn, and I nearly choke on my drink when I see the same man from the airport standing next to me.
"Didn't think I'd see you again," I say, surprised.
He gives me a half-smile. "Funny, I had the same thought."
He slides onto the stool next to me, leaning slightly towards me as he orders a drink.
"Small world, huh? You sure know how to make an entrance." His tone is light, teasing, but with a gentleness that makes my cheeks warm.
I chuckle ,"I suppose I do. I seem to have a knack for it."
He must have seen me walking in here and joined me. I smile at that realization.
" So, what brings yóu to Las Vegas?" He asks ànd I give him a playful smile.
" Maybe to have a chance encounter with you." He grins at my words, seemingly amused.
" Many people would rather stay far away from me." He says, giving me an hungry look that has my certain part throbbing with need.
I press my legs together to control the sudden ache in my nether regions.
Damn! I can't believe a man's look has me all needy. This is a first and I don't miss the dangerous vibe he is giving off.
The tats covering his hands and peeking from his neck confirm my suspicions. But holy shit! Why does that turn me on like a stupid virgin teenager?
" Oh yeah?Maybe I am not among the many." I shot back,taking a sip of my drink and licking my lips.
The hungry look on hís face tells me that he feels it,the strange attraction flying in the air.
"I'm Mason, by the way."He says, offering his hand.
"Hera," I reply, giving a tentative smile.
"Well, Hera," he says,raising his glass with a grin, "to chance meetings and good drinks."
"To chance meetings," I reply, lifting my glass and clinking it against his.
At the corner of my eye, I see a familiar figure approaching.
" Maybe we can seal our second meeting in one day differently." I lean closer,a grin on my face before slamming my lips against his own.
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7.0
Eight years ago, Alaina forced herself to say the most vicious, heartless things to break up with her fiercely loyal college boyfriend, protecting him from his billionaire family's wrath.
Now, she is a top maxillofacial surgeon, and Jarred Mcknight has returned as the ruthless CEO of Wall Street's most powerful corporation.
Their worlds collide in the ER, but Jarred isn't alone. He is accompanying his rumored heiress fiancée.
His eyes are pure ice. He treats Alaina with a suffocating, clinical detachment, fiercely protecting the heiress from Alaina's medical examination. The professional slap in the face shatters Alaina's heart all over again.
Later, at an exclusive restaurant, Jarred catches Alaina on a miserable, forced blind date. Still believing she left him for money and status, he publicly mocks her for working herself to the bone just to climb the ladder.
Her sleazy date, humiliated by the billionaire's sheer dominance, turns his bruised ego on Alaina. On the dark street outside, the lawyer aggressively grabs her arm, trying to force himself on her.
Alaina thought Jarred despised her. She thought he had completely moved on, leaving her to drown in the memories of the future they never had.
But why did Jarred suddenly explode from the shadows like a lethal predator, brutally snapping the lawyer's wrist just for touching her?
Pinning her trapped against the cold brick wall, Jarred's dark eyes burn with a terrifying, unhinged possessiveness.
"Is this the kind of garbage you date now?"
The eight years of separation mean nothing. The billionaire hasn't let her go, and this time, there is no escape.
8.9
Debora went to prison to protect the man she loved, only to end up a paroled convict living under the roof of her abusive foster parents.
When they found her positive pregnancy test from a one-night stand, they threatened to kick her out and send her straight back to a cell.
Just as they were about to report her, the stranger from that dark hotel room suddenly appeared.
He paid her foster parents one million dollars to marry her and take her away.
Debora thought she was finally safe.
But the moment they were alone, he looked at her with pure, venomous hatred.
He didn't want a wife; he wanted a prisoner.
He believed Debora was the ruthless murderer who had destroyed his life in a car crash, and he planned to make her suffocate in her own despair.
He didn't know she was just a scapegoat.
To survive and protect her baby, Debora found a job at a bridal shop, only to run into the real culprit—the man who actually drove the car and framed her.
He was now happily engaged to a wealthy heiress.
They deliberately ruined a priceless wedding gown and blamed it on her.
"Kneel on this floor and apologize, or I'm calling the police to revoke your parole!"
Why did she have to rot in hell for his sins, while the man she married wanted to destroy her?
Just as her trembling knees were about to touch the cold marble floor, the heavy glass doors were violently shoved open.
Her billionaire husband strode in like a force of nature, his eyes locked onto the wealthy couple with a terrifying, destructive rage.
7.4
In a city where data is power and truth is a weapon, some secrets are worth killing for.
Mara Quinn is a ghost in the system, an underground journalist known only as Cipher, feared by corporations and hunted by those with everything to lose. When she breaches a classified network inside Axiom Industries, she uncovers something no one was meant to see: ORACLE, a predictive AI capable of shaping human behavior on a global scale.
She expects retaliation. She doesn't expect Kael Draven.
Cold, brilliant, and untouchable, Kael is the architect behind Axiom's empire, and a man who doesn't make threats he can't execute. Instead of silencing Mara, he offers her a choice: work under his watch, or disappear from existence entirely. Trapped inside his glass fortress known as The Spire, Mara is pulled deeper into a world of surveillance, manipulation, and power plays that stretch far beyond anything she imagined.
But ORACLE isn't just a tool, it's already been used. Governments have fallen. Empires have shifted. And someone else is pulling the strings.
As a rival syndicate closes in and a hidden war erupts across the city, Mara and Kael are forced into an uneasy alliance, one built on intellect, suspicion, and a dangerous, undeniable pull neither of them can ignore.
Because in a world where every move is predicted...
the only thing more dangerous than control is feeling.
And the system is already watching.
8.9
My family's company went bankrupt, and my biological father was lying in the ICU, kept alive by machines that cost tens of thousands a day.
I thought it was just a tragic business failure, until I caught my mother in bed with my stepfather.
They had secretly transferred all our assets months ago, deliberately bankrupting the company and leaving my father to die.
To pay the hospital bills, my stepfather forced me to a private club, trying to sell me to a sleazy investor.
When I refused, he slapped me across the face, and my mother just looked at me with cold, dead eyes.
"Be realistic, Jaelynn. A woman's body is a tool. Use it to get what you need."
Later, right before my father's emergency surgery, my stepfather signed a Do Not Resuscitate order and froze the medical accounts.
"If you don't get on your knees and spread your legs for him, I will tell the hospital to pull your father's plug."
Standing in the freezing rain, covered in mud and blood, I stared at the astronomical hospital bill in my hand.
My own family had plotted to murder my father and sell me to the highest bidder. The betrayal shattered every ounce of sanity I had left.
I didn't cry or beg them anymore.
Instead, I pulled out a water-stained, gold-embossed business card.
It belonged to Dolph Valentine, the most ruthless billionaire in New York and my ex-fiancé's uncle.
If they wanted to destroy my life, I was going to sell my soul to the biggest monster of them all and drag them straight to hell.
7.2
On our wedding night, celebrating a billion-dollar family merger, my new husband Coleton stepped out of the shower.
Suddenly, his phone rang. It was his dead brother's widow, Hana, crying that her five-year-old had a fever.
Without hesitation, Coleton shoved me hard into the wall to get out the door.
"Are you seriously jealous of a sick five-year-old kid?" he spat.
He abandoned me in the bridal suite. I immediately filed for divorce and leaked it to the press.
To save the merger and their stock prices, both our families rushed in to force me to back down.
My own father raised his hand to slap me for my "petty female jealousy."
Coleton's grandfather brutally beat him with a heavy wooden cane right in front of me, trying to use a twisted debt of honor to guilt-trip me into staying.
Through a hidden dumbwaiter shaft, I overheard their secret meeting. They were plotting to use Coleton's bloody photos to paint me as a cold-hearted villain to the media, trapping me in the marriage through public shame.
My own brother nodded along to this plot just to secure his CEO bonus.
Coleton only begged for my forgiveness because he was terrified of losing his trust fund to an illegitimate heir.
In their eyes, my dignity was just a cheap commodity with a price tag.
But I am a Pennington, raised in a world where trust is a liability.
I calmly saved the audio recording of their plot, packed my Hermes suitcase, and emailed the most ruthless divorce litigator in Manhattan.
9.5
My husband, Kahlil, despised me, while his "sister" Cassandra lived in our home, playing the role of a fragile, wheelchair-bound victim.
To get rid of me, she orchestrated a trap, taking a misleading photo to frame me for having an affair.
When Kahlil saw the photo, he didn't even give me a chance to explain.
He believed Cassandra's fake tears instantly and violently shoved me away.
I crashed hard into a heavy glass table, the impact sending agonizing spasms through my stomach that dropped me to the floor in a cold sweat.
While I writhed in excruciating pain, he stood there shielding the very woman who was destroying my life.
"Stop playing the victim," he roared, looking at me with pure disgust. "You are my wife in name, and you will not make a fool of me!"
My heart completely shattered as I lay on the cold hardwood floor.
I had never been unfaithful, yet he treated me like property, blindly protecting a snake who wore sheer tops to seduce him at midnight.
Why was I enduring this suffocating farce of a marriage just to be trampled on?
But when Cassandra pushed her luck and hired a sleazy playboy to assault me in the dark garden, her perfect mask finally shattered.
As Kahlil rushed in to save me, a terrified Cassandra forgot her own lie and stood up from her wheelchair on two perfectly healthy legs.
Looking at their shocked faces, I realized it was finally time to crush the snake and walk away for good.