Page 34 of Never Distract a Biker

“What is your real name?”

“Scarlett. Scarlett Wood.” She replies, shaking.

She is terrified to see this side of me, and I hate it.

"Scarlett," I say after a few seconds. Her name on my lips almost makes me go instantly hard, but lust has no place here. You will tell me everything."

She nods, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. A part of me recoils at her vulnerability, but I push it away, hardening my heart against the onslaught of unwelcome emotions.

"Good, your cooperation is wise. The alternative is far less ... pleasant."

“But I’ve told you everything I know.”

“Which is nothing.”

“That is because I don’t know what you are talking about, " she says, sobbing fully.

Unable to stand her tears, I stand to leave, hoping to return to her when she is more composed. But as I reach the door, hernext words halt me as if an unseen force has chained me to the spot.

“I am pregnant with your child.” She blurts in a tear-soaked voice.

The room tilts, and my breath gets stuck in my throat. The world narrows to her trembling figure and the weight of her confession: she is pregnant. My mind races, trying to reconcile the chaos inside me: shock and a strange, unfamiliar tenderness takes root in my heart.

"Pregnant?" My voice is low, laced with disbelief.

She nods, tears slipping down her cheeks. "It’s yours."

For a moment, I can’t speak. My thoughts spiral—memories of that night in the car, her innocence, the way she lost herself to me with reckless abandon. And now it’s resulted in a child. My child.

The room feels smaller, the air heavier. She watches me, her fear palpable, but I can’t comfort her. Not now. Not when my entire world has just shifted.

Back in my office, my mind tries to rationalize the situation.

Someone in DanceCheck knows about my father’s death. That someone, I am very sure, is not Scarlett Wood. But then, Scarlett is carrying my heir, and she is somehow tied to this equation.

Fucking complicated.

One thing is clear: she will stay with me until she puts to bed. This will give me the time to investigate her. With her close to me, I can easily monitor her movements and calls.

Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.

The door to my office opens, and Zasha walks in. “Anna has her settled in.”

“Good.”

“She seems innocent.” Lev chimes in from where he is reclining on a sofa.

So, they, too, have sensed it. It's good to know I’m not acting on emotions.

“Too early to tell,” I respond dismissively.

“But how did she get over seventy thousand dollars?” Zasha asks, looking puzzled. “Something is not adding up. I doubt strippers make that much.”

“Or maybe you can take up stripping; let’s see how much you can make.” Lev snickers. “Bet with that face of yours, you won’t be making a single dollar.”

I shake my head at Lev. His sense of humor does not match the brutal beast in him.

Zasha speaks up after a while.

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