The Biker’s Dead Secret – Then I meet him. Beast, the sinfully intimidating president of the MC. Six-foot-five, gray eyes, covered in tattoos, and looking at me like I’m already his. “Aren’t you a little bit nervous?” Sara asks. “No.” The lie tastes sweet on my tongue. Because from the moment this man blocks my path and whispers, “Purr like a kitten?”—I know I’m in trouble. He ki.sses me on the kitchen counter. He growls, “Tell me, baby, you want my co.ck just as much as I want that sweet pu.ssy of yours?” And suddenly, my twenty-five-year-old vir.ginity doesn’t stand a chance. And when Candy, the resident club bunny, tried to disrespect me? Let’s just say I introduced her to my blade. “Disrespect me, and I will gut you like a fish.” Beast watched the whole thing with a smirk. “Major f.cking turn-on.” He wants to make me his Old Lady. I should run. Instead, I’m already falling.
ANTONIA THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING again. Not again. I pant. It’s not real. Just my imagin-ation. A dream. No. A nightmare. It’s sooo bloody cold. My great as$ is gonna freeze off. A waterfall of shivers runs down my spine. I shouldn’t be here. “Aren’t you a little bit nervous?” my sister asks from the passenger seat. Giving her a disinterested look, I turn my focus back on the road. “No.” Even though I’m looking at the road, I can feel her staring at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “Antonia, how can you not be nervous? We’re about to spend two weeks shacked up at a MC clubhouse.” She’s been nervous ever since Christian and Cameron called a few weeks ago, asking for our tech skills around the clubhouse. Maybe I should back up a little. My name is Antonia Romano. I’m twenty-five years old and I own my own security company with my sister, Sara. I know, big laugh, right? Two women owning a security company.
Well, you better believe it. We’re the best in the business. After four years of working for STF—Special Task Force—we decided it was time to be our own boss. We were the youngest recruits the department had ever had and our boss, Mercury, was sad to see us leave but fully supported us in opening Romano’s Security. We create our own cameras, which include nanny cams, property cameras, and doorbell cameras. But that’s not all. We’ve created bug devices for the government and even a couple torcher devices, but that’s top secret. Not to mention our hacking skills. If you need someone found, we’re the people you call. If you want revenge on a sh.itty ex and want to expose him for everything he’s worth, again, that would be us. Basically, if you need something done with technology, we’re the people you call. “Sara, you act like our brothers aren’t going to be there. You know Cam and Chris would never let anything happen to us. Plus, last time I checked, we can kick as$ just fine on our own.” That’s another thing—never underestimate us. People assume because I’m short, standing at five foot three, that I’m an easy target.
Not the case at all. Dad made sure growing up, we knew how to defend ourselves. The older we got, the more we liked the power it gave us. By the time Sara and I were twenty, we were highly trained in every kind of martial arts you could think of—Karate, Taekwondo, Judo, Aikido, Muay Thai, Krav Maga, and Jujitsu, just to name a few. “That’s easy for you to say. Chris and Cam are your triplets. But me? I’m just the white girl your parents adopted. They’re going to treat us differently.” Pulling off the side of the highway, I slam on my brakes. “You know da.mn well that’s not true,” I scold her. Sara has always had this insecurity growing up. There’s no confusion that biologically, Sara is not related to us. My dad is Italian, and my mom is African American. But we’ve never treated Sara any different, so I hate it when she talks like this. When Sara was eight, her parents died in a car crash. We had been best friends since kindergarten. She didn’t have any other relatives, so my family took her in. It really was a no-brainer.
Our families were super close. There was no way we would have let Sara go into the system. “I didn’t mean it like that, sis,” she mumbles. “You know I love Mom and Dad. They took me in without question. In my eyes, you guys are my family, blood or not. But it’s a fact people won’t look at us the same,” she says with a sadness in her voice that I don’t like. “F.ck people. When have I ever given a da.mn about what somebody thinks about me?” “Never,” my sister says with a laugh. “Thanks, Antonia, I needed that.” Giving her a brief nod, I get back on the road. We’ll be there any minute according to the GPS. “How much longer?” a high-pitched voice asks from the middle console.
“About ten minutes, Demon.” He doesn’t reply, but I know that’s because he’s sick of being in this truck. Demon is my blue and yellow macaw, and he is the bane of my existence. I love the feathery little sh.it, but I think God put him in my life to test my patience. My two Great Danes, Duke and Daisy, couldn’t care less about the ride. They’re the chill ones out of the bunch, but do not piss them off. They are highly trained and deadly.