Chapter 3: The Cost of Arrogance
Marcus’s face turned the color of ash. The 'biker gang' he had assumed were merely local thugs were suddenly very clearly an organized, lethal force of nature.
"She... she’s your daughter?" Marcus whispered, his voice failing him. "I... I didn't know. We’re married, she’s my wife—"
The biker leader didn't let him finish. His fist, wrapped in heavy silver, collided with the SUV window. The tempered glass exploded into a thousand tiny diamonds, raining over Marcus’s expensive sweater.
"You don't own her," the leader said, his tone terrifyingly soft. "You don't even deserve to speak her name. For years, I stayed away because she wanted a 'normal' life. I let you take her into your world, thinking you were a man. But you’re not a man, Marcus. You’re a coward who hits pregnant women in the rain."
The bikers around them didn't flinch. They were a brotherhood, and they had just witnessed an unforgivable sin.
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"We don't take kindly to people who hurt our own," the leader added. He gestured to two of his men. "Get her to the medical van. Take her to my doctor. And Marcus?"
The leader leaned in close, his cold blue eyes meeting Marcus’s trembling ones. "If you ever look for her again, the last thing you see won't be rain. It'll be the end of your world."
