Substitute Bride: Sold To The Ruthless Biker

lise

yanking the zipper of the emerald silk dress until the

resting flat on the polished wood. In the triple mirror, the reflecti

air. The heavy, artificial scent caught in my throat, mixing with the metallic tang of dried blood beneath my tongue. "The Watkins family migh

er Brielle adjusted her cashmere shawl. She tilted he

ark hair with deliberate, painful pressure. "Collier 'King' Watkins is known for taking care of his property. Of course, they say he hasn't walked without pain in

ing Brielle's perfect smile twi

t wrist. It was an old habit, a nervous anchor from the five years I spent in underground basements, stitching gun

nding an obedient, broken

lse panel in the wall safe, I hadn't just found financial ledgers. I had found a forty-page encrypted briefing from

orized ev

ee-way turf war along the interstate corridor, Collier would lose his mind to a l

re tossing me into t

scarred flesh and criminal notoriety, Collier wasn't just a brutal warlord; h

bitch?" Brielle's voice snapped, her fin

cking my gaze onto h

er life flood into my eyes-the coldness of a surgeon

knuckles tightening around the silver brush as she took

dust. "I'm just wondering how long it will take for thi

is booming voice drifted up the curved stairwell, speaking into his cel

was saying. "Three o'clock sharp. Tel

ck

frayed wire of sentimentality. I wasn't their dau

ps. I looked at my reflection one last time, letting a