Three Alpha Bikers Wants An Open Marriage

Riley's POV

I don't even remember storming out of the building.

One moment, I was staring at Ethan like I didn't know him, as I'd never known him.

Next, my feet were carrying me through the lobby, past the glass doors, out into the cold outside, without a single glance at anyone. I didn't care if the important investors were waiting. I didn't care what rumors would spread.

Let them talk.

Let them say "Riley Grayson lost her mind." They'd be right.

I got into my car, slammed the door shut, and drove. I didn't check where. I didn't plan. I just kept my foot on the gas and my hand clenched around the wheel, my vision swimming with the weight of betrayal.

My baby...

My beautiful boy.

Gone.

And Ethan... God. Ethan did this?

"You're boring, Riley."

Those words wouldn't stop ringing in my head. The same man who took my virginity. I married at twenty when I thought love was enough to build a future on. I gave him three years. Three years of my youth, my body, my time, my soul, and now he stood in a glass office, buried in my best friend, telling me I was boring.

I blinked to wipe my tears, to see it clearly with my destination. It's the clubhouse. Downtown in Crescent Hollow.

It was not just any club, though. Not the type you can walk into unless you have a reason. This place wasn't built for humans like me. It was owned, run, and ruled by shifters, mostly werewolves of high rank like the Betas and Gammas. Pack Dangerous elites. Powerful and untouchable.

Let them throw me out. Let them tear me apart if they want. I needed air. I needed noise. I needed to forget.

I pulled the car into a side lot, got out, slammed the door behind me, and walked straight for the entrance with no hesitation. My black dress clung to me, wrinkled from hours of wear, tear-stained at the collar, but I held my head high as I stepped inside.

The scent of thick musk hit me first, mixed with sweat, leather, alcohol, and forbidden. The thrum of music pounded through my bones. The place was alive with movement. Dancers grinding against each other.

The low-ranking wolves-omegas in seductive forms with flashing smiles as they laughed, flirted, fought. No one noticed me at first. Maybe no one expected a human to walk in alone.

Definitely not a grieving one.

I made a beeline walk towards the bar.

The bartender, a tall shifter with silver rings in both ears and tattoos crawling up his neck, blinked at me like I was a hallucination.

"Tequila," I said.

He raised a brow but said nothing and poured a shot for me. I downed it in one go. He blinked in confusion and poured another. I downed. Third, Fourth. Fifth.

Ethan's voice was still echoing in my skull like a curse I couldn't shake.

After everything... after every night I held that man's business together... after every moment I managed to take care of our boy while he "couldn't be bothered."

Seven shots in, I slammed the empty glass on the counter and opened my mouth to ask for another, but the bartender hesitated.

"I'm sorry, miss," he said, glancing at me with narrowed eyes. "I can't give you more. You're wasted."

"What?" I frowned. "Are you the one who's going to tell me how much I want to drink? Do you even know how I'm feeling right now?"

I wasn't yelling. But my voice was loud, thanks to the music pounding through the club. The lights felt like they were spinning. My pulse buzzed in my ears.

"Pour me another."

"I'm serious," he said. "I'll get in trouble if I give you one more. I won't leave this place in one piece."

I snorted bitterly. "Says who?"

His eyes darted past me over my shoulder. "Says them."

I turned slowly, and my eyes landed on them.

Three men.

Three impossibly large, devastatingly handsome men were sitting at the far corner of the club in a booth no one else dared to come near. I hadn't noticed them when I came in - how could I have missed them? It was like the aura shifted around them. Like the room moved differently in their presence.

Their eyes were on me now. Watching intently. All three of them.

One with a jaw carved from stone and hair pulled into a loose knot at his nape.

Another leaned back lazily, fingers tapping against his glass, his eyes molten gold even from this distance.

The third seemed darker - danger seemed to curl around him like smoke, his unreadable expression fixed right on me.

They looked familiar somehow. Too familiar.

I squinted, rubbing my eyes. The tequila had definitely caught up to me, but something told me I'd seen them before. Somewhere. Somehow.

They were still staring, and all of a sudden, heat prickled hot across my skin.

What the hell did they want? Why were they looking at me like that? And what kind of sick twisted joke is that I have to listen to them?

Do they own this club or what? I slammed my palms on the counter, making the bar guy jerk in shock as I straightened up, wobbling slightly on my feet.

"They'll have to tell me who they're to tell me not to have more drinks," I said as I clenched my palms and walked up to them.