ENTLE

cked shut behind the Merritts, the

"Eva! Do you have any idea what you just did? You

a protective embrace, wailing, "My poor, sweet girl! What is she going to do now? A

gile, innocent victim for my father's benefit. Her tears flowed on command. "I'm

three-person circus wit

u mean the hard work of selling me off like a piece

ttled plum. "How dare you speak to me like

ng. "You need the Merritt money to plug the massive holes in your sinking business. And

he color draining from their faces. They clearly hadn't

aintain his authority. "Nonsense! Why on eart

ho is anyone in the Nevada MC scene knows exactly what it's worth. It's not just a chop shop; it's a brand. A symbol. It c

bvious she understood the true value of t

en to me. What's done is done. Just... accept this arrangement for now. Do it for me. You

You mean bend over and become his

fine with an arrangement that stri

I turned my back on them. "This is not up for de

retreating back. "Eva Bentley, do not f

e. This place hadn't been my

dbolt and leaned back against the heavy

ught me early on that in a world of oil a

edge of the estate property. It was my mother's blood, sweat, and tears. It was

tone. Mia was a bartender at 'The Vulture's Nest'-the most notorious biker bar in to

ode Chrome. Secure the l

ilsafe between us, meaning the gara

major MC presidents, lone-wolf riders, and underground parts suppliers. They were the true soul o

zzed in my palm. Mia's reply

re burning with a cold, unforgiving fire. They thought I was

r. It wasn't delicate, aristocratic blood runni

on a show of taking a romantic stroll, but their eyes kept drifting toward the garage.

curtains shut, severin

in. For my mother's legac

d, dragging out an old, battered toolbox my m

a set of tactical self-defense gear and