Pampered By The Ruthless Biker Boss

IRE

ight, my phone screen lit

d possessively over the curve of my stepsister's waist. Even in the dim lighting, there was no mistaking him: spanning his inner forearm was a distinct, curv

image with col

43. Exactly one minute and fifty-nine seconds after delivery

gan unsen

h calculated innocence: "Omg Claire, please ignore that!

the knife, disguised

ady captured the screenshot

ife for Leo Tucker. I had worked relentlessly, keeping my head down, trusting the childhood betrothal our families had arranged before we

gle suitcase and booked a one-

ough the window, Coyote Creek looked as stagnant as the day I left. But I was no longer the naive, obedient girl who had let everyone dictate h

r the diner

lar Price, my best friend, slid into the booth opposite me, her pink waitress unif

e whispered, her hand clo

a rusty hinge. I pushed t

y as she scrolled. A curse escaped her lips.

cutting her off. My gaze drifted past her, across the

d, her voice dropping lower. "What's the plan, C

eed an invitation. To the annua

? Security is insane. Only the town's e

here. Jenna will be hanging off his arm like a prize po

rch of the Tucker family an

ped," I added. "I'm going to slip into the charity auctio

You want to rip their faces off in front of e

ir carefully constructed, hypocritical world of

can't get you an invitation, but my cousin Steve is a tech f

out a small, encrypted USB bypass to

pt. I need your cousin to plug this into the ballroom's master projection hub so it's rea

e morphed into something like awe. "God, Claire. What happened to

my mother's legacy, the Nightingale Ranch, as collateral to secure Leo's

said. "Leo and Jenna's little rendezvous in th

e going to the cabin? Leo's par

fternoon across town," I said, my g

he picked up the USB drive, her fist closing around it. "Okay. I

e shared a cold, co

shove. "Welcome home

sip. The bitter liquid slid down my throat, but