Page 2

Elizabeth

My eyes light up as I approach the entrance. When I was told it was a casino and hotel complex that never launched, and they converted it into their clubhouse, I thought it was all bullshit. But as I step up to the front double doors, which are clearly the entrance to a casino, I can’t help but smirk. Not waiting for Sin or one of his men to try to be polite and open the door for me, I pull back the left door and walk in. They can’t try to fool me into thinking they’re not the chauvinistic animals they are.

Making my way inside, it’s the smell that hits me first—a mix of gasoline, old leather, and something else, something distinctly male. It’s not unpleasant, just different, heavy in the air. The door to the clubhouse closes behind me, the solid thunk echoing in my ears. I expected chaos—dirty floors, grumbling men with stained club cuts, eyes following my every move—but instead, it’s mostly orderly. Not what I had in mind when I pictured an outlaw biker club.

My heels click across the floor, the sound sharp in contrast to the low thrum of conversation. The unmistakable notion of eyes following me, assessing, sizing me up as I stand in the middle of the clubroom, taking it all in.

Directly in front of me are tables and chairs, clearly for communal eating. I’m assuming if this were the main casino area, it would be where the poker tables would be. To the left seems to be a room locked off with intense security. I take a mental note of that as Sin strides up beside me, finally catching up. He is a silent sentinel, his presence commanding the room even when he’s not saying a word. He nods toward the same group of men who were outside moments ago, who are now lounging on sofas at the opposite end of the room from the communal eating area, drinks already in hand, their laughter rising above the background noise.

He places his hand politely on my lower back, edging me toward them. “Seeing as you want the full experience… come meet my brothers,” Sin urges, his voice carrying easily through the room.

Walking with him, I grin slightly. “Full experience, huh?” I reply.

Sin chuckles, the sound surprisingly light coming from a man as herculean as him. He has muscles on muscles. His light brown hair is a little longer on top, flopping around his eyes in that I’m-a-bad-boy-who-will-melt-your-heart kind of way, then reminds you I’m all alpha male when my beard tickles your pussy when I eat you out. And the tattoos—don’t forget the sexy-as-sin tattoos.

His lips turn up in a knowing smirk. “You’re not starting to get second thoughts now, are you, Elizabeth?” He’s clearly testing me.

Stopping mid-stride, I turn to face him, my eyes meeting his, my hand pressed against his incredibly strong chest. His brows scrunch as he stares back at me with those crazy, intense eyes, and I can’t help but gaze into them, seeing the mismatch in color. Each iris is a mix of two colors—light blue and brown. A very rare phenomenon that makes his eyes so remarkably stunning. My breathing hitches as I clear my throat. “Interesting,” I mumble under my breath.

He takes a small step back, causing my hand to fall from his chest like he’s suddenly uncomfortable with me assessing him. “What?” he snaps.

A slow smile crosses my lips. “One percent,” I reply casually.

Sin folds his arms across his chest like he’s unimpressed. “You knew this coming in that we are 1%ers. Where are you going with this, Elizabeth?”

Tilting my head, I continue to keep eye contact with him. “One percent of the population on earth have sectoral heterochromia, and you, Sin, are part of that one percent... it’s fascinating. Don’t you think?”

He rolls his eyes, grabs my shoulders, and spins me back to face where we were walking. “I don’t think my eye color has anything to do with why you’re here, Elizabeth. If you’re going to write a fluff piece on how outlaws have pretty eyes, then you should go write some mommy porn instead. We don’t need anything about my fucking eyes mentioned when you’re writing about our club. What we do, what we stand for, that’s it. Understand, wildcat?”

Letting out a small laugh, I continue to walk with him toward the other guys still sitting on the sofas. “Whatever you say, bossman.”

Sin scowls and continues to edge me over to the other men, all of them eyeing me up and down as I approach, not in a salacious way, but more in a ‘you come for our club, we will come for you’ way. Sin clears his throat and proceeds to introduce me to his brothers. “Nitro, my VP. Ghost, tech genius. Koa, Sergeant at Arms, Deek, our road captain, and this is Bear… he’s our wise one.” Sin points each of them out as he says their names. They each give me a once-over, some with curiosity, others with a flicker of skepticism.

Nitro is the first to speak, his eyes narrowing slightly. “So you’re the elusive reporter?”

Shrugging, I purse my lips. “I prefer investigative journalist, but potato, potahto,” I reply, offering a tight smile.

Nitro snorts, shaking his head. “Hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, sweetheart.”

“I’ve handled worse,” I shoot back, lifting an eyebrow. “Besides, I thought you guys were supposed to be the good bikers. Isn’t that the whole point of this?”

A hesitation of silence flows between us, and then Ghost chuckles, the sound low and amused. “She’s got fire in her, Sin. You sure she’s gonna last here?”

Sin’s lips curve into a grin, his eyes landing back to meet mine. “I guess we’re gonna find out, aren’t we?” He steps closer, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping just for me to hear. “You wanna be a real investigative journalist, Elizabeth? Then you better be ready for whatever comes with it.”

I swallow, refusing to back down. “I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t.”

Sin straightens out his club cut, turning toward his brothers again. “All right, you guys have shit to do. I’m gonna take Miss Hale into the Chapel and give her a proper induction into the club before she has free reign—”

“Yeah… I bet you will,” Deek chimes with a devilish grin.

Bear instantly jabs him in the ribs, causing Deek to groan in pain, and the others chuckle to themselves.

Sin glares at Deek and clears his throat, placing his hand on the small part of my back once more. “Ignore Deek, he’s a special kind of idiot.”

The other guys laugh amongst themselves as Deek continues to grin wildly. “Enjoy your induction, Miss Hale.” Deek grins like he’s in on some inside joke as Sin begins to lead me away.

“Bear, control your son, will you?” Sin growls back as he leads me away.

Bear shrugs as Deek continues to laugh. “When have I ever been able to control this maniac?” Bear calls back.

Clearing my throat as I try to figure out just what Deek is trying to get at by my induction, I lean in closer to Sin as we walk toward another room in the clubhouse. “Deek is Bear’s son?” I ask hesitantly.

Sin exhales. “Don’t ask me how Bear produced a son like Deek, but yeah. He has another son, too… Will. He’s prospecting for us at the moment. He and Deek couldn’t be more polar opposites.”

Furrowing my brows, trying to understand the dynamics of the club, Sin leads us to a room, reaches for the door handle, and holds the door open for me. Inhaling a deep breath, I walk inside and see the huge oval-shaped table. Instantly, I know it was an old poker table that has been converted. Around the edge of the table is a black leather guard. The next layer of dark red wood moves in toward the center, and in front of where each club member sits is an inbuilt cup holder, or what I assume to be a beer holder. The next layer, and the table’s centerpiece, is the felt layer, which has the club logo printed on it. I have to give it to them—this table is a real work of art.

Glancing around the rest of the room, it has an old-style speakeasy vibe about it. The wooden walls, with a darker undertone, create a mood of exclusivity. The dim lighting, the leather upholstery for the chairs give off an air of sophistication and secrecy. Even though this room is not a bar, it has that feel about it. It makes you want to sit back at that big old poker table and have a drink to unwind.

Maybe that’s the atmosphere Sin was aiming for here—a place where they handle business yet still make it feel comfortable enough for the brothers to relax, even when dealing with 1%er issues.

“Welcome to the clubhouse Chapel, Elizabeth. Generally, only patched members are allowed access to here. But, I assured you full access, so… we start here.” The door to the Chapel clicks shut behind us. It’s quieter, the noise of the clubhouse muffled by the walls—clearly, it’s been soundproofed. Sin walks around the table in the middle of the room, pulls out the seat at the head, sits, and then leans back, crossing his arms over his chest as he studies me.

Rolling my shoulders, I move to the seat at the opposite end of the table, pull it out, and take a seat. He raises his brow like that was a bold move, but I don’t really give a shit right now. His men have been testing me, clearly, and he is trying to now as well.

I’m not going to let him or his brothers scare me.

I’m just not that girl.

“Let’s not start here,” I reply.

Sin tilts his head in confusion but takes the bait. “All right, where do you want to start, Miss Hale?”

Reaching into my bag, I pull out my recorder and slide it onto the table in front of me, pressing the record button without asking him. A slow smirk crosses his lips as I sit back in my seat, folding my arms across my chest, just like him. “Deek was talking about my induction in such a way that suggested sexual activity…” Sin’s eyes widen, he sits up straight, instantly preparing to interrupt, but I continue, “Is it your intention to make me cooperate in this interview by forcing sexual acts on me?”

His mouth drops open like I have completely caught him off guard.

He stands from his seat, his nostrils flaring. “The fuck do you think we are, Elizabe—”

“Answer the question, Sin,” I snap back at him, holding my ground.

His chest rises and falls, a flush of red marring his devilishly handsome face as he stalks toward me like a raging bull. But I don’t move. I don’t budge. He moves in beside me, spinning my chair to face him, commanding in every way. Imposing. Fierce. Unyielding. His knuckles rest on either side of me on the armrests of my chair as his face drops to meet me. His glorious eyes rage as he glares at me like I have hit one hell of a serious nerve, but still, I don’t back down. He leans closer so we’re inches apart, his threat clear, his breathing so frantic I smell the beer on his breath. “Is your motherfucking recorder still fucking recording this?” He growls the words, his voice so low, so menacing, I almost want to back down.

But I don’t.

I won’t.

Instead, I simply glance at the table to see the red light still glowing. “It sure as hell is,” I reply, full of gumption.

Sin’s breathing quickens even more as his brows furrow while he stares at me like he is trying to figure me out, the closeness between us causing my stomach to flutter. And I just can’t figure out if it is from nerves or excitement.

“You want an answer? Here’s your fucking answer.” His eyes slide down my blouse, which even I admit is probably a little too revealing, then they flick back up to me. “You come into my clubhouse, wearing all leather, trying to portray this tough-girl image and attitude, and pair it with the skimpiest blouse so that my brothers out there can see all your damn assets, and you didn’t think for a single second, that one of them, a 1%er, was going to make a sexual remark about you? C’mon now…” He draws out the words. “You knew what you were doing, wildcat. You’re an investigative journalist trying to dig up dirt, right? So you come in here with ammunition ready to go, in the form of you! Do not think I don’t see what you’re doing, Miss Hale. Deek is the weak link here, right? The problem is, he was messing around, and out of everyone here at the club, he is the least likely to be an issue when it comes to women—”

I snort out a laugh. “You’re just trying to protect your men—”

“You bet your ass I am. If you think you can come in here with some narrative you’ve already so clearly got in your head, then you can walk your leather-clad ass right back out of my motherfucking door. You’re here to look at us subjectively, and if you can’t take off your pessimist filter and actually give us a chance, then we are done here, Elizabeth.”

A slow smirk begins to inch across my lips.

Sin spots it, lets out a heavy huff, and then pushes himself away from my chair, creating distance between us. His heavy boots pound the floor as he paces in front of me, running his fingers through his hair. “You were testing me… weren’t you?” he snaps, turning back, glaring at me.

I softly shrug, letting out a small exhale. “I could already tell when I was out there that Deek is a joker. I didn’t take him seriously at all. I never once thought I was in any real danger…” She pauses with a smirk. “I just wanted to see how the leader of this club would protect his men. Would he stand up for values and morals, or would he just go for the opportunity if it presented itself?”

Sin’s posture softens as he moves to the wall, leaning back against it, shifting his foot back up in a move that somehow makes him look even more authoritative and powerful at the moment. “Risky move! What if I did try to take advantage of you?”

I weakly smile at him, that same fluttering feeling in my stomach crashing over me as our eyes meet again. “Part of the job… but… I also had a gut feeling about you. It’s why I pushed you so hard.”

He narrows his eyes, simply humming under his breath. “Hmm…” he replies, shoving off the wall and moving back to his seat at the head of the table. He draws in a long sigh as I turn to face him, clicking off the recording so it’s just him and me.

Sin places his hands on the table, and I can’t help but notice the poker chip that has appeared as he flicks it between his fingers effortlessly. “Why do you want to write about us? Honesty this time, Elizabeth,” he asks, his voice even but his eyes sharp. “What’s your angle?”

I meet his gaze, keeping my expression neutral. “I think people have the wrong idea about clubs like yours,” I reply, the lie coming far too easily. “I want to show the human side… the loyalty, the brotherhood. Not just the headlines about crime, violence, and… sexual exploitation.”

He lets out a small harrumph, watching me for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re new to reporting, yeah?”

Sucking in a breath, I nod. “I am.”

Sin clears his throat and stands from his chair, moving back around the room toward me, stopping by my side. “Make this feature a good one, and it could really ignite your career. So far, wildcat, from what I’ve seen in our limited time together, you’re gonna be one hell of an investigative journalist.” A bright smile lights my face as I go to reply, but he cuts me off. “But, if you come at me with that fucking technique again, this process will be over, and I’ll withdraw permission for every-single-fucking-thing you gather here to be used in your piece. Do. You. Understand me, Elizabeth?”

Clearing my throat—somehow the demanding way he’s talking to me is making all my bravado sink inside myself—I simply nod, biting down on my bottom lip in the first sign of nervousness I have shown him.

A mischievous smile lights his face like he knows he’s won this round.

Asshole.

“Now, let’s go back into the clubhouse, and I’ll introduce you to everyone and show you around a little more.” I simply nod as he glances down at my blouse, inhaling and shaking his head. “But for God’s sake, Elizabeth, do up a couple of buttons on your blouse. It really is distracting, and I am trying to be a gentleman here.”

I snort out a laugh, raising my brow at him, and when he turns heading for the door, I do as he directs and then stand, reaching for my recorder, and take off after him.

I guess it’s time to really get this party started.