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The Biker King's Bride  Novel Cover

The Biker King's Bride

Fleeing a monstrous past, Vivienne Carter strikes a risky bargain with Ronan Calloway, the ruthless leader of the Iron Vultures. She offers herself in marriage for protection, but the brutal president plays by his own rules. What began as a cold arrangement turns into a dark obsession as Ronan asserts total control. When Vivienne becomes pregnant with his child, her defiance only fuels his possessive fire. She is his forever; he will never let her go.
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Chapter 6

Vivienne's POV

I stepped out of the car, and froze immediately. This was not what I expected, at all. A huge mansion stood in front of me, covering every inch of natural light from the sky. In fact, the only source of life I was privileged to were the blinding lamps that lit up the corner of the place.

The estate was massive, with dark stone walls wrapped in ivy. Iron gates stood tall behind us, and I didn't miss the security cameras mounted at the entrance to every corner. All around us, men stood guard, their gazes sharp.

I wasn't skilled with guns or any other form of weapon, but I just knew these people could take someone out from even a far distance. Their faces showed it all.

Cold and ruthless.

I'd expected a clubhouse. A rough, gritty rough biker den. But I couldn't be any more wrong.

This wasn't just the home of a simple biker. This was the home of a king. A ruthless biker king who just happened to be my husband now.

As I took in more and more of the massive grounds, well, as far as my eyes could see that is, a slow horrible realization crept up my spine. This wasn't just wealth, this was dangerous wealth.

This kind of wealth didn't come from legitimate businesses, nor a generational inheritance. This was the kind built on blood, secrets , on power plays so ruthless that they don't just break the laws, they rewrote them.

This was Grant's world.

I felt my chest tighten, and something akin to panic clawed at my throat.

Grant's wealth wasn't even this intimidating.

"Problem?" Someone's deep baritone was all it took to knock me back to the present. It took me a while, but I figured it was just Ronan.

"You're..." I muttered, breathless. I reached deep down, but I couldn't find the balls to say what I wanted to.

He was rich, powerful, and not what I thought he was, but I didn't dare let my thoughts out.

"You thought I lived in some rundown shack," I didn't miss the amusement in twinkling in his eyes, and bursting through his voice. "Didn't you?"

I parted my lips to speak, but no words came out. Why? Because he was right. I'd expected something gritty and chaotic . Something that reeked of cigarettes and smoke, with half naked women draped over worn leather couches, while bikers shouted over the road of engines.

But this? This was cold , untouchable and too damn familiar.

The main reason I'd escaped Grant was to get away from the many things he held over my head, but right now, I just might have walked into something much more worse than I originally thought.

While I skirted deeper into my thoughts, I didn't miss Ronan's gaze on me, his eyes digging deep into my skin, like he was desperately searching for a passage into my mind.

"Come on." He let out after what seemed like forever. He gave me a five second head start, but I didn't so much as acknowledge it. Once he realized that, he climbed up the little stairs that led up to his front door.

I counted to ten, inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, before trailing after him.

If I'd thought the outside was massive, then I was wrong. So wrong.

The interiors were just as overwhelming.

The floors were marble, expensive artworks lining the walls. I didn't miss the guards pointed stares as I trailed behind Ronan. With each one we passed, they greeted accordingly.

Ronan and I didn't stop our journey in the living room. We slipped through hallways and corridors, till we arrived at the foot of a double door.

Ronan hadn't opened it yet, but I just knew what was behind it.

A bedroom, but not just any bedroom. Ronan's.

He pushed open the doors with such ease, before strolling inside. Once he was on the other side, he flattened out his palm for me. I gave him a weary look, before breezing past him and for some strange reason, it made him laugh.

At least one of us wasn't feeling miserable in all of this.

His room was nothing like I'd expected either. Pristine white walls surrounded us , bathing us in its surprisingly glittery features. Unlike the other rooms we'd passed, there were no portraits or paintings in here. In fact, his room lacked every bit of personal touch you could think of, and it made me wonder just how many times he'd actually slept in here.

"Whatever you're thinking." His voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "I don't sleep here very often."

He didn't sound the least bit remorseful. Call me crazy, but I could swear he was rather proud about the whole ordeal.

"You should get comfortable." He added, before tossing his jacket onto the couch by the side. It was black with gold studs, and while it screamed luxury, I just knew it was super soft and comfortable.

"I'm fine." I crossed my hands over my bosom. "Just peachy."

"You want a drink?" He offered again, and I fought the urge to scoff. While he waited for my response, I watched him lean back, exuding every bit of casual dominance I'd ever seen.

"I don't want anything to drink." I snapped. "I want to set some rules."

"Rules?" Ronan stilled. I had no idea what had been going through his mind, but I just knew this wasn't a part of it.

"Yes." I nodded once. I held my head high, and even though it was nothing but a facade, I really hoped he wouldn't notice it. "If we're doing this, this whole marriage thing, then we need boundaries."

He watched me for the longest moment, his expression unreadable. Just when I thought he would snap, he shrugged, before adding. "Alright then, let's hear them."

"Fine." I steadied myself. "Rule one; separate bedrooms. We'll both have..."

"Not happening." Ronan snapped, causing me to flinch slightly. I watched him arch an eyebrow, before he continued. "No fucking way."

"Excuse me?" I bit back. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not having my wife sleep in the guest room like a fucking visitor." Something about the way he said the word wife, made my blood boil. It sent a thrill down my spine, and It took everything in me to push down the shiver that threatened to wash over me. "You'll sleep in our room, and on our bed."

Our room. Our bed.

His words didn't hide the one thing Ronan thrived on, possession. It was scary, but I found it incredibly hot at the same time.

"Fine." My voice was nothing short of a low squeak, but I continued anyway. "But no unnecessary touching."

"Define unnecessary." Ronan smirked.

"You know what I mean." I let out through gritted teeth, but all it did was make his lips curved upwards.

"Sure." He hummed. "next?"

"Rule three" I coughed out the words. "In public we'll keep up with appearances. But behind closed doors, we're strangers."

"Is that all, princess?" He tilted his head to the side. "Or should I get you a pen and some paper."

"Last one." My heart hammered in my chest. The mere thought was enough to send me into a coma, but I sucked it up, before spitting out the words. "No falling in love with each other."

I'd gotten married to Grant with nothing but love in my heart. I adored him, but all he did was misuse it. Not only did he do that, he'd replaced my heart with a hollow cavity, one I wasn't looking forward to filling anytime soon. Or forever even.

This was the moment where I'd expected a reaction from Ronan, but I didn't get it. At least, it didn't come immediately.

He didn't react. Instead , his eyes drank me in, his gaze dark and knowing.

Suddenly, he was on his feet, and while I struggled to figure out what was going on, he started walking towards me.

Step by step, he inched closer and closer, while I took two steps back. The air crackled with tension, and just when I thought it was never going to end, my back came in contact with the wall. Cold and obstructive.

I was stuck.

"I have something to add, princess." His voice was low, low enough to send shivers down my spine. "I don't do love. I own you."

"No." I gasped, my breath hitching in my throat. "You don't..."

"My turn." His deep octave had anxiety swirling in the pit of my belly. "Your body belongs to me."

I gasped. I never knew it was this possible for things to go from a zero to a hundred, in just one fucking minute.

"You can have all the little rules you want sweetheart." His tone was low and steady. "But that one, that one's mine."

Without warning, Ronan pulled away from me. The moment he'd put a little bit of distance between us, I missed his signature scent wafting through my nostrils. He'd left me bare, standing flustered, furious and far too aware of the heat swirling in my belly.

Then, almost like nothing had happened, he turned away.

"Get some sleep." Dangerous Ronan was nowhere to be found anymore. In the most casual tone I'd ever heard, he threw in his last words. "We've got a party to attend tomorrow."

"Party?" My stomach dropped. "What kind of party?"

"You'll see." Ronan smirked over his shoulder. Without so much as a glance, he slicked out of the room, leaving me with just one thought.

I'd thought Grant was the devil, but here I was, balls deep in a deal with his master.

Shit, I was doomed.

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