Page 109 of Claimed By the Bikers

The bodyguards shift restlessly, hands drifting closer to their weapons. Diego notices and waves them back with a sharpgesture. “What assurance do we have that you won’t interfere with our legitimate business activities?”

“Define legitimate,” I say.

“Import operations. Cross-border transportation. Financial consulting.”

I exchange glances with my brothers. Import operations means drug smuggling. Cross-border transportation means human trafficking. Financial consulting means money laundering.

“We don’t interfere with business that doesn’t affect Wolf Pike or the surrounding counties,” Atlas says carefully. “What happens in Denver or Colorado Springs isn’t our concern.”

“And what happens in Wolf Pike?”

“Stays in Wolf Pike. Permanently.”

Diego finishes his cigarette, grinding the butt under his expensive shoe. “My superiors will want guarantees.”

“Your superiors can have our word, backed by Teller’s witness. Honor among criminals, if you will.”

“And if someone violates the agreement?”

“Then we revisit this conversation with less diplomacy and more ammunition.”

Teller steps forward before either side can escalate further. “Proposed terms—Los Serpientes withdraws all personnel and operations from Wolf Pike and the surrounding territory. Bishop brothers maintain neutrality regarding cartel activities outside their area of influence. Both parties agree to a non-interference clause with MC mediation available for disputes.”

“Duration?” Diego asks.

“Permanent, unless violated by either party.”

“Consequences for violation?”

“Open warfare with no neutral mediation.”

The cartel leader considers these terms, probably calculating profit margins against potential losses. Wolf Pike isn’t worth a war with an established MC, especially when other territories offer easier opportunities.

“I need to consult with my superiors.”

“You have twenty-four hours,” I tell him. “After that, we assume you’ve chosen warfare over negotiation.”

“Understood.”

Diego and his bodyguards return to their vehicles, engines starting with synchronized growls. Within minutes, their convoy disappears down the highway, leaving us alone with Teller at the abandoned truck stop.

“Think they’ll agree?” Garrett asks, lighting a cigarette with hands that show only the slightest tremor.

“They’ll agree,” Teller says confidently. “Wolf Pike isn’t worth the cost of fighting an entrenched MC with federal connections.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then we kill them all and take over their territory,” Atlas says matter-of-factly. “But negotiation was worth attempting first.”

I nod, satisfied with the morning’s work. Ember’s safe, the cartel has an exit option that doesn’t involve mass casualties, and we’ve demonstrated strength without unnecessary violence.

“Time to go home,” I say, reaching for my rifle. “Our woman’s probably wondering why we left so early without saying goodbye properly.”

“She was asleep,” Garrett points out. “Beautiful, naked, and completely exhausted from celebrating her makeover last night.”

“All the more reason to get home quickly.”

The drive back to Wolf Pike passes in comfortable silence, each of us processing the morning’s negotiations. Los Serpientes will withdraw—the economics make too much sense for them to choose warfare over easier targets. But until we receive official confirmation, we’ll maintain defensive readiness.