Page 4

Yulian was still busy negotiating with the betting crew, trying to salvage what he could from our losses. I could hear him dropping valid points for why he couldn’t go home empty-handed despite the fact that he’d lost.

His effrontery, though.

But that was Yulian being…well, Yulian. It was one thing to try to convince the betting crew to listen to him.

And it was an entirely different thing altogether to make them actually listen.

What was even more shocking was how they didn’t just listen; they started buying his idea.

Their silence and the bewildered expressions were a clear indication that he was already winning them over.

He must have made some really strong arguments—so strong, in fact, that they couldn’t ignore him. The man should’ve been a fuckin lawyer with such a talent. But like I said, my brother could talk his way out of any situation, no matter how sticky it was.

As impressed as I was by him, I was still more intrigued by the strange rider, and my eyes were fixed on her. I watched in amusement, a small smile playing on my lips, with a hand in my pocket. From the moment that helmet came off and that smug, victorious grin lit up her face, I was hooked.

I stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to tear my gaze off this remarkably different individual.

The Irish crowd around her cheered, laughing, clapping her back like she didn’t just humiliate an entire crew—the Russian crew.

She didn’t say much, only smiled, shook hands with a few people, and waved at the others.

I stroked my jaw, trying to understand why a woman as beautiful as her would choose such a dangerous sport. Was she in for the fun—the thrill and adrenaline that came with riding at top speed? Or was there another reason, perhaps a personal one?

She’d instantly piqued my interest, and now I wanted to know more about her. I wanted to know her name, her place of residence, what she did, or where she hung out more when she wasn’t riding here at night. I needed to gather as much information about her as I could, and also as soon as possible.

My eyes narrowed when I watched her smile gradually start to falter as she stared at her phone’s screen. I recognized that look. It was fear.

Fear. That’s weird. What was she scared of? She’d put up a brave and courageous act, like nothing got to her. But it was obvious to me now that that was what it was—an act.

She pressed the power button and shoved the phone into her pocket, then leaned in and whispered something in another girl’s ear. Both ladies exchanged a hug, and the rider rushed over to her bike.

“Wait, come on, you can’t just leave now. The celebration’s just starting!” a young man called after her, spreading out his arms.

She swung a leg over her bike and kick-started the engine. “Have a good night, Gabe,” she replied, her lips curling into a mischievous grin.

I watched her secure her helmet with a swift, fluid motion, the visor snapping down to shield her face. With a fierce growl, the engine roared to life as she floored it, tires screeching and spewing clouds of dust that swirled around her before she shot forward, accelerating rapidly into the night.

That was my cue.

I rushed back to my vehicle, opened the driver’s door, and sat behind the wheel.

The moment I revved the engine, I heard Yulian’s protests against leaving him behind.

Looking out the window, I met his gaze for a second.

His eyes narrowed, and he nodded subtly, knowing I wouldn’t leave him behind if it weren’t important. Besides, he could find his way back.

Without wasting much time, I stepped on the accelerator and drove out of the lot, following the mysterious biker lady.

I tailed her for a while, maintaining a safe distance behind, determined to know where she hung her cowl every night.

Stalking her felt a bit creepy, but it was a necessary evil.

I was the kind of man who always got what he wanted and wouldn’t mind going to any lengths to get it.

For tonight, she was my target, and I wasn’t going to back down until I knew where she lived.

Her bike traveled steadily down the streets, her chestnut-reddish hair whipping like a comet’s tail behind her. The longer I followed her, the more frequently her helmet-protected head tilted toward the side mirror.

She was growing suspicious. The girl wasn’t just a pretty face with some insane race skills; she was also an observant little devil, mindful of her environment. I was certain beyond a reasonable doubt that she knew she was being followed when she suddenly took a sharp turn, almost unplanned.

The girl was trying to ditch me.

Okay. Let’s have a little bit of fun.

I slowed down the vehicle and steered onto the same street. She glanced over her shoulder and, upon seeing my car, she faced her front again, gently speeding up her bike. It was almost like I could sense her ease, her fear, however faint.

She pulled up into an old gas station, and I brought the car to a halt near a dark alley.

From behind my tinted glass, I watched her pretend to smoke, her eyes discreetly sweeping over the surrounding area.

My car was lurking in the shadows with the headlights turned off.

So, she couldn’t see me, although I was sure she could sense my presence.

After a little while, she revved her engine and took off again.

This time, I followed. Her head tilted toward the side mirror, and in the blink of an eye, she made a dangerous swerve down a narrow street, too narrow for my car to fit.

I slammed on the brakes, watching her drive into the night, the sound of her roaring engine growing more distant by the second.

A crooked grin tugged at the corners of my lips, impressed by her ability to ditch me. But did she, though? Did she really get away?

With a swift motion, I put the car in reverse, expertly maneuvering around to the other side until I burst out on another street.

Her bike had traveled far ahead, but I could see it in the distance, and so I followed.

More discreetly this time. I tailed her quietly, letting her believe she was free of me at last.

In the long run, I watched her ride into a large estate, the compound swarming with guards, all armed to the teeth. I thought these streets seemed familiar, and when the sign at the front of the giant gates came into view, my eyes narrowed.

O’Hara.

My grip tightened around the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the compound and the mysterious girl riding through the driveway.

I drove my car across the mansion and found a spot somewhere at the back of the building.

There, I parked and killed the engine, the dark corner shrouding my presence.

No headlights. No low engine hums. Nothing. Just stillness.

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, eyes roaming the windows of the house, the moon’s glow catching in the glass.

It took a few minutes before one of the windows lit up with a warm light.

Someone just walked into the room, and their silhouette moved elegantly through the space.

I leaned back, a faint smirk lining the corners of my lips as I watched this figure take off her oversized jacket and loose pants.

For a second, my breath ceased, and my heart stopped.

The sight that caught my eye was shocking.

Behind that gear and oversized jacket was a physique to die for.

Her curves and contours, her height, and the elegance of her steps didn’t match the tough biker image she wore tonight.

From where I was sitting, one could so easily mistake her for a model.

She paced around her bedroom for a moment before looking in the direction of the window.

With the way she paused and cocked her head to the side, I thought she saw me.

But when she walked closer to the window, I realized she was probably wondering why it was open at this time of night.

Her watchful eyes wandered the stillness and silence of the night as if she could sense something was off.

It didn’t take long before she spotted my vehicle shrouded in a dark corner.

Her gaze remained on the car for a while as if trying to figure out whether it was the same vehicle she’d ditched earlier.

I just sat there, loving the look of suspicion on her pretty face.

The moon’s ethereal glow danced across her features, highlighting the soft glow of her skin.

She closed the windows once she was done observing her surroundings, then shut the blinds too.

She was gorgeous and also a daredevil. Impressive. Girls like her were scarce these days, and that’s what made her so unique. But there was just one problem.

She was an O’Hara. Why the fuck did she have to be a daughter of the same asshole who’d been building tension with the Tarasov Bratva for over a decade?

I hated the Irish because of that man and how he turned cold wars colder.

The fact that this wildflower belonged to that bastard almost made her off-limits.

Almost.

I started the engine and drove away, the gravel crunching beneath my tires. On my way back home, I withdrew my phone from my pocket and dialed Kuzma’s number—my right-hand man. It rang on the other end of the line for just a moment before he answered.

“Boss.”

“How many daughters does Ronan O’Hara have?” I asked without wasting any time.

“Uh….” He paused on the other line, clearly shocked by my sudden interest in the O’Hara daughters. “Two,” he replied. “I believe their names are Maeve and Ayla.”

My lips curled into a small smile. “Ayla,” I muttered.

“That’s the youngest daughter, the apple of her father’s eyes,” he answered, his voice thick and deep. “Ronan’s overprotective of that one, and that’s why she still lives with him in his mansion.”

Interesting.

I leaned back in my seat, crazy ideas flooding my mind at this great reveal. I wasn’t going to back down now, not by a long shot, because things just got really interesting.

“Kuzma, I need you to find out all you can about this Ayla girl. Who she talks to, who she hangs out with, where she studies—everything. I need to know everything there is to know about her,” I said, my instructions clear and concise.

He hesitated for a second, accentuating his surprise and bewilderment. “Got it, Boss. I’m on it.”

I hung up the phone, feeling a flutter in my chest as I anticipated the next course of action and what it would reveal.