Page 7 of Ruthless Obsession (Royal Bastards MC Chicago, IL Chapter)

SOPHIE

Pictures of Toby’s face are plastered all over the bulletin board. Colorful lines connect each photo to points on maps pinned beside them.

“Psycho set this up last night. Cool, huh?” Mavis says.

My eyes drift to the walls lined with all kinds of guns. The sight makes me uneasy.

“Why so many guns?” I ask.

“I’m a problem solver.”

“Oh, you get paid to make problems disappear. Damn. I didn’t know the profession paid this well.”

He shakes his head. “This house has been in my family for years. I remodeled it. I also oversee my family’s company. We’ll sit in on a board meeting later today.”

A rich boy playing biker? Is that what he is?

Doesn’t matter. My plan stays the same; watch, learn, wait, and escape when he least expects it.

He turns me toward a blank wooden wall, presses his hand against it, and it slides open. Ten surveillance monitors light up in front of us.

He steps behind me, lowering his voice near my ear. “Make yourself at home. You can roam the property later. Just know, if you try to escape, you won’t make it past the trees. Mush is out there in his doghouse.”

He points to one of the monitors. A sleek Doberman stares back at us from the screen.

“What the fuck, Mavis? You’d let the dog kill me?”

His nose glides down my neck. My body betrays me again. I’m soaked for this man, and it pisses me off. His hard dick pressed into my spine all night didn’t help. And now his hands on my hips have my pulse doing backflips.

He’s willing to kill you, Sophie.

“I’m not yours to keep,” I mutter.

His eyes flash. “Put you out of your misery? As you wish.”

He scoops me over his shoulder before I can argue.

“Wait, no!” I slap at his leather cut as he strides down the hallway and out the sliding doors.

“I fucking hate you!” I shout.

“You don’t,” he chuckles.

My heart hammers in my chest. He’s really taking me to the dog. The loud, sharp barking gets louder the closer we get.

“Mush, sit,” he commands as he sets me on my feet.

I’d appreciate the gorgeous, green backyard if I wasn’t about to become kibble.

“Mush, come.”

I freeze, knees wobbling. I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Shake,” Mavis says.

I crack one eye open. “What?”

“Don’t show him fear. Shake his paw.”

The dog stares at me with unblinking eyes. I swallow and slowly reach forward. He places his paw in my hand.

“You protect her. Understand?” Mavis says to the dog.

He pulls a treat from a bag beside the doghouse and tosses it to Mush. “Good boy.”

Turning to me, he smirks. “If anyone steps foot on this property while you’re here, Mush will tear them apart and place their body parts at your feet.”

I blink, stunned. “That’s… so sweet.”

What the hell is happening to me?

Ten minutes later, I’m browsing dresses and shoes for this so-called meeting.

The rack is filled with options—some casual, some upscale—and I spot a few I’d wear if I wasn’t his captive.

Brisa, Mavis’s stylist, knows her fashion.

Even at this ungodly hour, she looks like she stepped out of a magazine—crisp yellow blouse, tailored white slacks that hug her ankles, and those killer red stilettos.

Her French braid swings over one shoulder as she promises to bring more options later, she thinks I’d like.

She seems genuinely excited about styling me.

I hold up a royal blue, three-quarter length dress against my body. “I hope it doesn’t draw too much attention.”

“It’ll do exactly what it’s meant to,” Brisa replies. A devious smirk lifts her tanned cheeks.

“I’ve styled Mavis for five years. This is the first time I’ve dressed a woman he’s seeing.”

I don’t bother correcting her. No point. I won’t be in his world much longer. After this weekend, I’ll find a way out of Mavis’s crazy life.

∞

Standing by the oversized window that overlooks a sprawling garden, I sip on peach iced tea. It’s surprisingly delicious. Sweet, cool, calming. Not at all what I expected from a biker’s kitchen.

Then I hear it—the sharp click of dress shoes on the stairs.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

I turn, and my breath hitches. Mavis is dressed in a royal blue suit with a blue shirt, matching tie, and polished black dress shoes. His blond hair is slicked back. His look gives CEO vibes. I place a hand over my chest because it feels like the walls are closing in. This man is a walking sin.

“You look breathtaking, Sophie.”

He notices everything—my hair in long ocean waves, the flawless makeup, the jewelry, even the matching purse.

His eyes move over the form fitting dress that stops mid-calf.

The nude stilettos accentuate my toned legs.

I’d done my make up myself, like I always had for Toby’s events.

Only this time, I looked like I belonged at the boardroom table.

“Thank you,” I murmur, then catch my breath. “You clean up nice.”

I set the tea down. “I’m ready.”

Mavis slides his arm around my waist, pulling me into him. His cologne is addictive and lingers too close to the parts of me that want to betray my common sense.

“Soon, I’ll tell your twisted ex you’re mine,” he murmurs.

Then he kisses me.

It’s hard. Possessive. His lips crash into mine and I should shove him away, but I don’t. I grab the lapels of his suit instead, sliding my tongue into his mouth, moaning like I need him just to breathe.

Sanity kicks in.

I break the kiss and step back. “Shit—my lipstick.”

He arches a brow. “That’s all you have to say?”

I glance at his lips. My lipstick didn’t smudge. Transfer proof lipstick. I’d never worn it before. Good to know it really works.

“Why’d you kiss me?” I ask.

He checks his Rolex and takes my hand. “We have to go.”

Mavis taps his phone, and I hear the front door lock as we approach the chauffeured cream-colored Maybach.

Mega-rich. Probably generational wealth rich.

I slip into the soft peanut butter leather seat. Mavis settles in beside me. I slid to the other side of the car to put space between us.

“The better question,” he says, “is why did you kiss me back?”

“You’ve put me in this weird place. I mean first you kidnap me, then you promise to kill my ex-boyfriend.”

We both look at the chauffeur who peeks at us through the rearview mirror.

“Shit,” I mutter.

“It’s ok. Vanish is a RBMC. I trust he won’t repeat anything he’s heard.”

“I wouldn’t ever rat out one of my brothers,” Vanish says.”

I throw my hands in the air. “Of course, your chauffeur is one of your brothers.”

“I only attend these meetings quarterly,” Mavis says, adjusting his tie, his attention on the window.

I nod. That kiss plays on instant replay in my head.

My eyes move over his side profile. And I feel this man’s presence tugging at my heartstrings. I’ve only been with him one day. And he’s driving me insane.

You better run, Sophie before you give him your V card.

I cross my legs and eye the bar. “I need a drink,” I whisper.

His deep laugh vibrates my pussy and instantly I want to feel his hands everywhere especially between my legs.

Mavis prepares a vodka neat and places it in my hand. “Don’t worry I won’t touch you again today.”

I visibly swallow. This man is the devil. All I want to do is ride his face.

The drink settles my nerves as I mentally prepare for the board meeting.

∞

Mavis rests his hand on the small of my back, guiding me through the double doors of the spacious conference room.

He moves with confidence, greeting board members with firm handshakes and sharp nods. I stay quiet, observing as he slips seamlessly into his role. It’s hard to believe this man is both the enforcer for the Royal Bastards MC and a sharp-suited businessman—but damn, it’s sexy watching him work.

After the meeting, he casually introduces me to each board member as his girlfriend. I manage to smile through it, even though I want to elbow him in the ribs.

This man is unbelievable.

And the worst part? I know if I don’t run soon, I won’t be able to. The sexy biker is pulling me in, and I’m starting to sink.

The mansion's marble foyer welcomes us back as the afternoon sun slants through its windows. I’m still savoring the taste of the perfect crème br?lée when I remembered how Mavis's phone had buzzed against the restaurant table.

His face had hardened with each word from the caller, jaw clenching until I could almost hear his teeth grinding.

Now, stepping into the living room, my eyes catch on a familiar silhouette.

A man leaning against the mahogany bar, waiting.

“Sophie, you remember Psycho?” Mavis says coolly.

I frown. "I remember you being at my place, and Tonya mentioned you, Psycho. You're the tech guy spreading all my personal info."

He lets out a low chuckle. “You don’t come near the Royal Bastards MC without us knowing who you are. Daughter of Beverley and Antoine Sr. Your brother, Antoine Jr., is the Prez of the Chi Hellraisers MC.”

His tanned, handsome face splits into a grin. His messy blond hair looks like it’s seen a few too many fingers, and those gray eyes are sharper than they let on.

“What else do you think you know?” I ask.

“You haven’t spent your own money in two years.”

My hands ball into fists. “My boyfriend took care of me. I didn’t ask him to—he insisted.”

I glance at Mavis. “That a crime now?”

“No,” he says, voice low. “But he did it to keep you quiet. Keep you comfortable enough not to ask questions.”

My mind drifts. I remember that night at Flare, one of Toby’s clubs. It was early in our relationship.

A woman with dark eyes and an elegant dress approached.

“I’m Paris,” she’d said.

“Sophie,” I flashed a warm smile.

“He looks like he’s in love,” she added with a grin.

“We just moved in together,” I’d said shyly. “We’re happy.”

“Are you enjoying the club?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m one of the entertainers.” She glanced over her shoulder, then met my gaze.

Her smile slipped. “He’s a powerful man. And powerful men love to keep pretty things locked away.”

What the fuck did that mean?

My brows lowered. “I’m not locked away. I go to work every day.”