CHAPTER 3: CRASHING INTO MY HUSBAND’S WORST ENEMIES

BRIENNA’S POV There is a specific, blood-chilling moment when you realise your life has officially crossed the line into a cautionary tale. For me, it was the exact second the iron gates groaned open, and three men stepped out into the freezing storm. They did not rush toward the smoking, pulverised wreckage of their custom motorcycles. Instead, they walked with the synchronised swagger of apex predators who owned the night. The heavy rain slicked over the massive dark leather jacket stretched across their impossibly broad shoulders, the patches gleaming in the headlights. Skulls, vipers, and the words BLACK VIPERS were branded into the leather. Oh, f**k. No. No, no, no. My stomach dropped so hard I thought I was going to throw up. The Black Vipers MC. The most unhinged, bloodthirsty monsters to ever walk the earth. The three brutal mountains of muscle stepping out of the shadows were the apex predators of the entire club. Being Luna of Willowcrest meant studying every single detail about Adam’s most violent enemies. It meant absorbing all the filthy, terrified whispers about the Triad. The Presidents. Three massive, heavily-tattooed giant Alphas who practically shared one sick, predatory brain. Rumours said they were feral beasts. Absolute psychos who could snap a full-grown Alpha’s spine in half with their bare hands just because he looked at them sideways. The rumours extended far beyond the violence, though. The girls crazy enough to sleep with them talked about it with this flushed, hungry look in their eyes. They swore the three Kings were just as savage when they f****d—hung like absolute monsters, rough as f**k, and literally built to split a woman completely in half with their c***s. And I had just turned their bikes into scrap metal. I am completely and utterly screwed. My stomach bottomed out, adrenaline hijacking my system as I turned to sprint blindly into the night. I didn’t even make it three steps before a massive hand clamped around my wrist. The grip was an iron vice that yanked me backwards. My spine slammed hard against the damaged hood of my car. Cold metal bit through my soaked dress, but all I could feel was the heat of a massive male body crowding aggressively between my thighs, pinning my legs wide open so I had nowhere left to run. “Running back into a storm, sweetheart?” The voice was a rough, dirty purr that vibrated straight down to my toes. I looked up into a face framed by soaked dark hair and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. His green eyes dragged shamelessly down my shivering body. The freezing downpour had turned my ruined dress completely transparent, and my n*****s were pebbled hard, straining tight and obvious against the wet, clinging fabric. “f**k me,” he murmured, a wicked, devouring grin spreading across his face as he shifted his hips, pressing that denim-clad thigh deeper against my centre, grinding right against my aching core. “Look at those pretty t**s trying to say hello. Are you just cold, princess, or are you that thrilled to have three Presidents looking at you?” My treacherous wolf whimpered—a soft, humiliating sound accompanied by a sudden rush of pure heat straight between my thighs. I spent three excruciating years in Adam’s bed trying to force a bond, and she remained completely dead to him. Yet these three rogue Presidents step out of the shadows, and it takes exactly three seconds for my twenty-five-year-old, bleeding, destitute body to completely betray me with a catastrophic meltdown over three unhinged monsters twice my age. The other two men, just as breathtaking as the first, stepped into the light, flanking him, crowding into my personal space until the oxygen completely evaporated. And they weren’t looking at their destroyed Harleys. All three of them were staring at the red bruise across my cheek. The giant to my left, a terrifying mountain of black ink, tattooed from his collar down to his knuckles, barked into the rain, his voice blunt and openly hostile. “She’s a spoiled pack b***h. You can smell the Willowcrest filth on her from here. Throw her back out.” “She’s bleeding, K,” The filthy-mouthed one before me said, still pressed intimately between my thighs, his thumb brushing the underside of my breast like it was accidental. “I do not give a f**k, Gideon,” The brute shot back, glaring at me with lethal intent. “Last time a stray walked in here looking like that, we both know how that ended. This pack b***h can rot in the rain.” “Stop calling me a b***h,” I snapped, my ingrained pride as a Luna completely overriding my will to live. The brute closed the distance between us faster than a man that massive had any right to. His massive, inked hand locked around my throat, a thick thumb pinning my frantic pulse. The scorching heat of his palm melted right through my freezing skin, sending a wicked, liquid thrill straight down my spine. “You don’t get to say a single f*****g word on our land, princess,” he growled, his voice so low and vicious the fine hairs on the nape of my neck stood up as he leaned in until his breath ghosted across my lips. “Not until we decide what you’re worth.” “Don’t waste your time,” I rasped, pressing my bruised neck deeper into his crushing hand, tasting blood on my tongue. “Snap my neck, and collect my corpse as payment for your bikes.” Put me out of my misery, please. Gideon laughed, a rough, delighted sound, his thigh still wedged tightly between mine. “Feisty. Goddess, I like her already.” The third man stood dead-still in the pouring rain. He had full silver hair and radiated a cold, terrifying energy. When my eyes locked on his, a sudden thrill shot down my spine. His brutal jaw, the heavy set of his brow—I had never seen him before, but my stomach dropped with a disturbing sense of familiarity. I knew that face from somewhere, but my scrambled brain just couldn’t figure out where. Nonetheless, his pale eyes dragged over my body. Slow, measured, and hot enough to scorch. It was a reserved gaze, but feeling his eyes on my skin was like being physically touched. There was just something about him… “Bring her,” he commanded, his deviously sexy baritone completely flipping my stomach. “Don’t you dare touch—” I started, but Gideon was already moving. His massive hands banded around my waist, entirely ignoring my frantic thrashing as he hauled me off the hood. In one brutal, effortless sweep, he tossed me over his broad shoulder like I weighed absolutely nothing. I pounded my fists against his solid back, but he just clamped a heavy arm. The Black Viper’s clubhouse, Venom Pit, swallowed me whole. It was a sprawling cavern with dim lights, sin, and the intoxicating pheromones of three powerful Alphas who had never had to ask twice for anything. Though empty, it was nonetheless intimidating. They dropped me onto a black leather couch by a roaring fire. My dress clung obscenely to my curves, but I forced my spine to remain ramrod straight even though my thighs were trembling. I was still a Luna. If I am going to be dragged into enemy territory, I was going to do it with the exact, elegant dignity of one. The third man sank into the armchair across from me, his legs spread wide, a crystal glass of whiskey in his hand, watching me with the terrifying patience of a king. Gideon dropped onto the sofa right beside me, leaving absolutely zero space, his thick arm stretching along the back of the couch. The brute loomed in the doorframe, his massive arms crossed, still glaring at me like he wanted to wrap his hands around my throat again. The interrogation started immediately. “Who’s the dead man who put his hand on you?” Gideon demanded, his dark eyes narrowing on my cheek. “Husband? Boyfriend? Pissed-off Alpha? Does he know you’re out here ruining custom Harleys, or did you steal the car, too?” “It’s none of your business,” I stated flatly. Gideon’s grin widened, clearly thrilled by the resistance. “What’s your name, princess?” “Bree.” “Bree what?” “Just Bree.” “Aw, don’t be shy, Just Bree,” Gideon teased, leaning his elbows on his knees, his dark eyes sparkling with wicked intent. “Is he tracking you?” The brute barked from the doorway, blunt as a hammer. “Because if he brings pack heat to my gates, I’m putting a bullet between his eyes and tossing your body in the river.” The third man’s voice cut through the room, redirecting the conversation. “How exactly do you intend to pay for my damaged property, little wolf?” Gideon leaned in until his lips brushed the shell of my ear, his voice dropping into liquid filth. “Yeah, sweetheart. Got a fortune hidden in that soaked little dress? Or are you gonna get on your knees and suck my c**k until the debt’s gone? Thirty days of that pretty mouth wrapped around me might just cover it.” Heat exploded low in my belly. My wolf howled, desperate and needy. I pressed my thighs together so hard my muscles physically ached. “I am not a w***e,” I snapped, glaring at his smirking mouth. “I can do any kind of labour you ask. I’ll clean the clubhouse, I’ll cook, I’ll scrub floors, whatever. But I truly don’t have a single dollar to my name.” “She’s a threat,” The brute sneered, completely ignoring my offer. “Sitting there like she expects a maid to bring her a warm towel. I don’t like this. If you’re running an angle, b***h—” “I told you, I’m not a b***h,” I snapped again, my voice shaking with a volatile cocktail of exhaustion, terror, and fury. The brute moved before the words were even fully out of my mouth. That massive, inked hand was back around my throat in a heartbeat, tilting my chin up so forcefully I had no choice but to meet his dark, ruthless eyes. “You do not speak,” he repeated, his thumb slowly stroking the sensitive skin of my neck like he was trying to decide whether to strangle me or not. “Don’t test my patience.” Gideon’s deep chuckle vibrated against my side. “f**k, she’s perfect.” The third man’s gaze never left my face, the hot, reserved heat in his silver eyes making it perfectly clear that he was enjoying every single second of me squirming between his brothers. I swallowed hard against the pressure of the brute’s palm. “Fine. I crashed because I couldn’t see through the rain,” I stated deadpan, refusing to break eye contact. “I have no money. No pack. Nothing. My husband punched me, in case you were wondering, right after he had f****d his mistress all night and threw me to the guest room. If you’re going to accuse me of something, do it now, because I would rather walk back into the storm than sit here answering nasty questions from three giant men who are terrified of a girl in a wet dress.” My heart pounded as I finished, breathless, trying to bite back from the fear festering in my bones. The three men looked at each other. A silent, terrifying consensus passed between them. I couldn’t read what it meant, but there was an identical darkness in their eyes. The third man leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. His pale eyes locked onto mine. I braced myself for the execution order. Instead, the words that left his mouth flipped my entire world upside down.