Page 1 of Tempting the President (Oro Nero MC)

THE RUMBLE COMES FIRST : a velvet-dark sound that vibrates through the gleaming marble floors of Caffeinated Pages.

I freeze with my hand on the espresso machine, listening. Some girls get excited about boy bands or movie stars. Me? I recognize custom motorcycle engines the way other people recognize voices.

My heart does a little flip-flop of excitement, just like it does whenever I crack open a new MC romance.

It’s a quarter before six in the morning, nearly two hours before opening, and I’m alone in the silent cafe. The sun hasn’t even properly risen, just painted a whisper of pink across the Manhattan skyline visible through our floor-to-ceiling windows.

But I know what this means.

The four cornerstone members of Oro Nero are about to emerge from the private underground garage of Midnight Tower.

My pulse quickens as I adjust the blinds just enough to see without being obvious.

I can’t help the romantic flutter in my chest. They’re exactly like the heroes in my favorite books come to life!

The massive steel gate rises with deliberate slowness, revealing the private exit reserved exclusively for the tower’s most elite residents.

First comes Gianluca Argentu. Consigliere del Territorio , and someone I’ve secretly nicknamed... The Shadow.

His midnight-black Afxisi Phantom glides onto the street with predatory grace.

Even from this distance, the pristine Italian suit beneath his leather jacket is unmistakable.

The distinctive engine barely whispers—a masterpiece of Andreus Economou’s engineering genius.

I’ve served him exactly four times: black espresso, no sugar, consumed while standing.

Never a word beyond “thank you,” yet somehow his silence feels more significant than most people’s conversations.

In my head, I’ve already paired him with someone equally mysterious but with a secret soft heart; I’m thinking his perfect romantic match would be someone unexpected who could coax a smile from those stoic lips.

A crimson Afxisi Maverick roars out next, engine deliberately gunned to shatter the morning quiet.

Stefano Gold. The Rogue.

He makes that unnecessary engine rev seem like a personal statement.

The Financial Times called him “the venture capital world’s most beautiful disaster.

” He specializes in fund ventures no one else will touch, and succeeds when everyone predicts failure.

His coffee order changes weekly, always the most complex thing on our menu, plus something that isn’t.

The black leather seats with hand-stitched gold thread—Andreus’ signature detail—somehow perfectly match his unpredictable personality.

He’s the hero who needs a woman strong enough to match his unpredictability but gentle enough to heal whatever shadows haunt him.

I’ve already written their love story in my head during slow afternoons.

The third bike emerges more smoothly. A custom matte-gray Afxisi Sentinel, its power delivery system tuned to perfect precision.

Jamie Ferros. Consigliere di Guerra. The Guardian.

My heart skips a beat, just like it does every time I see him. Ruthless military practicality in every movement as he guides his bike into formation, and it’s also just how he likes his coffee: Americano, black, with a splash of cold water so he can drink it immediately.

Among them, he’s the only one who’s almost..

.good. But not quite. A man can’t be part of a club like Oro Nero and still have his hands unstained by blood and betrayal.

I know this from all the books I’ve read.

But I also know the romance rule: the more guarded the hero, the more beautiful the love story when he finally falls.

Not that I’m imagining myself as his heroine—okay, maybe a little during my night school study breaks—but a girl can dream, can’t she?

And then finally, the one who rules them all...Patrizio Steele.

His black-and-gold Afxisi Sovereign doesn’t just emerge; it commands the street the moment its front wheel touches asphalt.

The custom machine costs more than what I’ll make in three years of barista shifts and night school tuition combined.

The waiting list for an Afxisi custom is three years long, unless you have connections.

And clearly, El Presidente has the ultimate connection.

Its distinctive engine note was rumored to be personally designed by Andreus himself for an unnamed special client, both elegant and threatening, like a panther’s growl dressed in Armani.

I’ve seen Mr. Steele in action plenty of times.

Business-wise, that is. I’ve seen him reduce CEOs to stammering with a single raised eyebrow, and when Forbes put him on their cover last year, their headline read simply: “The Man Who Never Loses.” Classic alpha behavior straight from the pages of my favorite novels!

His coffee order: double espresso with exactly one cube of raw sugar that he adds himself, never allowing anyone else to prepare it completely.

They form up in seamless formation—Stefano and Gianluca flanking, Jamie covering the rear, Patrizio leading—and accelerate away into the awakening city.

I exhale slowly, returning to my espresso machine with a dreamy sigh.

In just about every MC romance I’ve read, everything changes when the President claims his First Lady. The entire club shifts, becomes something more than the sum of its dangerous parts. The hardcore alpha finally meets the woman who makes him vulnerable in all the right ways.

I can’t help wondering what kind of woman would capture El Presidente’s attention.

Maybe someone like Andy in The Old Guard, that immortal warrior who always leads her team into battle, fearless and unstoppable. Or Cipher from Fast and Furious, who can drive as dangerously as any man in the crew. Or Furiosa from Mad Max...

Wait a minute.

Why do I keep imagining El Presidente with someone like Charlize Theron?