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 5
Hera
Today is my last day here in Vegas and the second day I haven't seen Mason. After our last encounter at the club, he disappeared into thin air. I'll be lying if I say I haven't been looking forward to seeing him again. After his declaration, is he trying to play hard to get or was his confession nothing but bullshit?
" Are you even listening to me?" Chloe's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I lift my eyes to meet her glare.
" Of course I am listening." I reply, smiling at her. Chloe doesn't buy my act though.
" You have been distracted since we met. What are you thinking about?" She probes and I swallow. I admit Mason has been all over my head but I am not admitting any of that to Chloe or I won't hear the end of it.
" Nothing." I deny her claims. Chloe raises her brows, her eyes screaming suspicion.
" Hera, are you keeping something from me? Maybe a loverboy you had a one night stand with these days?" She inquires and I almost choke on my saliva.
" What nonsense are you spouting?" I hiss but my face is already covered in blush. " You have a wild imagination Chloe." I add, flustered. Of all things I can think about, that was the only thing she suspected. Of course, she won't be Chloe if she doesn't come with the wildest and most absurd suggestions.
Chloe rolls her eyes at me.
" What's wrong with having one night stands from time to time? Are you planning on taking your v- card to your grave? " She snorts. " Besides, the way you are blushing, I can tell something happened."
" Chloe, shut up." I grumble and she laughs.
" It's okay if you don't want to tell me who got you looking like a teenager falling in love. You know what, I have some exciting sexcapades to share." She giggles, wiggling her brows mischievously.
I roll my eyes, knowing that there's no escaping hearing how she and her new husband fucked like bunnies on heat.
After almost an hour of being traumatized by Chloe's tales of how her husband is skilled in bed, I finally bid her goodbye and make my way to the airport.
" I'll visit you soon in Chicago after I get enough of my husband's dick." Those are the last words she shouts before I slip into the cab.
***
My life here in Chicago feels more like a routine. Waking up, working at the clinic, coming back home to pen down more words to my story. It's too monotonous and boring. Just like each day, today is Tuesday and after dealing with tons of patients, I am ready to head back home.
I skip to the parking lot, slipping into my car before I start driving home. Halfway through the drive, I change my mind and decide to head to the club.
Club image is like a little solace to my loneliness. I come here several times when I feel down. My car pulls up outside the club. I take my time to survey the area. Since today is not Saturday, I can't use the private parking lot.
After making sure the coast is clear, I make my way inside. I avoid the club arena as I head to the workers wing.
I am about to push the door open when it's pulled open from inside. My eyes come into contact with his blue mesmerizing ones.
My body goes into shock, eyes widening and legs rooted in place.
" Hera?" Mason asks, seemingly shocked as I am. He looks behind him and my eyes follow him, catching a glimpse of a half naked woman with roughly tousled hair.
I recognize her. She is one of the club dancers.
Mason turns to look at me, swallowing as guilt paints his face.
My mind sums up what transpired inside and my heart clenches. A bitter feeling crawls from deep inside my stomach, rising up and scorching in its wake.
" What are you doing here, Hera?" Mason asks, his gaze fixed on me.
" I didn't expect to see you here." I reply, aware of what it means for a man to come to such a place.
" Oh yeah. I had something to talk about with Linda." Mason replies and I fight the urge to scoff at his words.
Talk about my feet.
" What about you? Why are you here?" He probes and I fight to find the right excuse as to what I would be doing at a changing room for club workers.
It would have been easy to slap a random excuse if Mason didn't confess to stalking me the last time we met. I don't know how much he knows about me.
Now that I think of it, I feel my anger rising. Did he stalk Linda just like he did me? Was he here confessing like he did to me at Vegas? My hands tighten into fists and my annoyance resurfaces.
" I was looking for someone and was told she was here." I reply, praying he doesn't probe further.
" Maybe you went in the wrong direction." He offers and I nod. Indeed, I got the wrong direction from the start. I should have gone home in the first place instead of coming here and having such an awkward encounter.
I nod and turn around with every intention of walking away.
" Hera... wait!" Mason calls, grabbing my wrist forcing me to a halt. I turn around and regard him with raised brows.
After catching him with another woman doing god knows what, what else is there to stop me for?
Linda, who had been busy changing into her work clothes walks out. She gives me a curt nod before walking away.
I turn my attention back to Mason.
" Don't you have anything to tell me after what happened in Vegas?" He asks, further fanning my anger. The nerve of him to remind me about what happened in Vegas.
" I do have something to tell you. You are a bastard and a liar. Don't ever come close to me again." I spat, snatching my hand before walking away.
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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.