Page 99 of Baby for the Bikers

The zip ties cut into my wrists as I test their strength for the third time, careful to keep my movements small. Two guards flank the office door, and another stands by the barred window. All three pointedly avoid looking at me directly—Cypher’s standing orders. Look but don’t touch. The princess is untouchable.

Except when she betrays the family. Then all bets are off.

“She’s not talking,” the guard by the window mutters. “Boss won’t like that.”

“Boss can ask her himself when he gets here,” the bigger guard answers. “Our job is just to keep her from running again.”

I stare at the floor, playing the part they expect—the scared daughter, the failed runaway. But inside, calculations run nonstop. Three guards. One door. A barred window. Zip ties I could break if I had leverage.

My father taught me well, despite himself. Every Sunday from age twelve to seventeen meant combat training with the prospects. Lock-picking lessons from the VP’s wife. How to escape restraints from the former Army Ranger who ran security. All so I could protect myself if a rival club ever grabbed me.

Ironic that I’d use those lessons against his own men.

I shift slightly, easing pressure on my wrists while scanning the room again. A metal desk bolted to the floor. Two wooden chairs. Filing cabinets empty and rusting. This must have been the mill foreman’s office once.

Voices filter from below—more Vipers arriving. They’re consolidating, preparing for whatever comes next. My father isn’t one to retreat, even outnumbered. He’ll make a stand here, use me as leverage against the brothers and against the town.

“You should’ve stayed put, princess,” the guard by the window says, breaking the silence. “Boss tore apart three states looking for you.”

I glance up, meeting his gaze for the first time. Dennis. One of the newer patches. He was kind to me once, sneaking me cigarettes when Dad locked me in my room after a failed escape attempt at nineteen.

“How’d he find me?” I ask, my voice deliberately small.

Dennis shrugs. “Started tracking your sister once she stopped answering his calls. College campus security’s a joke.”

Emma. My chest tightens. “Where is she?”

“Around.” He turns back to the window. “Backup’s here.”

More boots on the stairs. My time is running out.

I scan the guards again, looking for weaknesses. The big one favors his left knee—an old motorcycle accident left him with a steel pin. The one by the door has a holster that’s too loose.

Dennis keeps checking his phone, distracted.

The door bangs open, and all three straighten as my father fills the frame.

Cypher. The snake. The monster I called Dad for twenty-four years.

“Leave us,” he orders, and the guards file out without a word.

For a long moment, he just looks at me, his face unreadable. I’ve always resembled my mother more than him, but we have the same eyes—cold, calculating, seeing more than we let on.

“I trained you better than this,” he says finally, circling the desk to stand over me. “Running to the same men who tried to destroy us? That’s not just stupid, Leona. That’s betrayal.”

I say nothing. Words are weapons with my father, and he’s always been better armed.

“Three of them.” He shakes his head. “Were you trying to hurt me, or just slut it up across the country?”

My jaw clenches. “You don’t own me.”

“I made you.” He slams his hand on the desk, the sound like a gunshot in the small room. “Everything you are, everything you know—that’s my investment. My legacy.”

“Your property,” I correct bitterly. “That’s all I’ve ever been to you.”

“You’re my blood.” His voice drops, something almost like hurt flickering across his face. “My heir. I was preparing you to lead, to be greater than I ever was.”

“By making me deliver drugs in cake boxes? By teaching me to kill? That’s not preparing me to lead. That’s grooming your replacement.”

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