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Reborn Heiress: Rejecting The Biker Ex

Reborn Heiress: Rejecting The Biker Ex

Author: Qing Hua
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Chapter 1

Word Count: 1141    |    Released on: Today at 17:16

Austi

amn patch

through the deafening roar of heavy metal and

l, cold concrete, and my unborn child being carved out of me in the

s a freshly cut leather strip, the words Property of Ha

in my hands down into my gut. My left thumb slid up, brushing

he metal against my

ington MC clubhouse on the exact night o

r boots thudded against the beer-soaked hardwood as a tall man marched to

un Ga

man who had bled my family's transport

gleaming across his chest. He stopped a foot in front of me, looking do

th condescension. "Sew the rocker onto your vest. The brothers are waiti

ring-laden hand moving to

pped sideways, letting h

had been. His brows slammed together, his jaw tig

his right sleeve, revealing the jagged eagle-claw tattoo on his forearm. "Tonight is the night you

ed past his b

em of his leather vest with delicate, m

ear-filled green eyes, biting he

mbling softly enough to make every man in the room want to defend her.

arder against Calhoun's bicep, subtly tilting her nec

her waist, shielding her as if she were

nie is just a harmless Sweetbutt who needs a roof over her head. You can't even

and patched members started chuck

thinks she owns t

pockets. She ought to be gratefu

of Harrington patch between two fingers, lett

k this is about

n lull between heavy metal tracks, e

rdered, taking a menac

ened m

bling through the air before slapping wetly into a p

lubhouse wen

oke. Dropping a club patch into the dirt wasn't just disrespect-in

d of color, his eyes

cracking with rage. "Pick it up! Pick it up right now bef

Instead, I lifted

d sole down directly onto the golden eagle embroidered on th

roaned under

, flinching as if the heavy boot had

ous eyes, my own devoid of warmth. "No. I

a hand over her mouth. "Oh God... Helena, how c

bling face. "Shut your mouth, Bernadette. The cheap perfume

st her high heel caught on an empty beer bottle, sending

!" Calhoun

ombat knife from the sheath at his hip, the jagge

der the highway code, and not a singl

gainst my skin. I didn't

inch, letting the sharp tip graz

and sharp. "Let's see if your club survives the night once my dispatchers pull

e blood drained from his face as the reali

t, turned my back on his frozen blade, and walked strai

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