The Lawless Biker Alpha and the Fearless Lawyer

The bass pounded through my chest like a second heartbeat, and I wanted to murder my sister.

“You’re twenty-seven, not seventy,” Sofia hissed, her manicured nails digging into my wrist as she dragged me past Eclipse’s velvet rope. “When’s the last time you did something that wasn’t work related?”

Never. And I liked it that way.

Eclipse was everything I despised about Ravenwood’s elite—excess wrapped in designer labels and called sophistication. The air was thick with expensive perfume, desperation, and something darker that made my skin prickle with unease. Politicians’ wives snorted cocaine off Hermès clutches while tech moguls bought bottles worth more than my rent, and everyone pretended this was normal.

“I should be reviewing the Morrison files,” I muttered, but Sofia’s grip was iron.

“The files will still be there tomorrow. Tonight, you’re going to remember what it feels like to be human.”

If only she knew how human I felt right now—pulse racing, palms sweating, every nerve ending alive in ways that had nothing to do with the music.

“There.” Sofia’s voice dropped to something reverent. “Corner booth. That’s him.”

I followed her gaze and forgot how to breathe.

He commanded the space like gravity itself bent around him. Sprawled across black leather with the lazy confidence of a king, all sharp angles and dangerous curves. His hair fell in midnight waves past his shoulders, and even in the club’s strobing lights, I could see the network of scars mapping his olive skin like a roadmap of violence.

Beautiful didn’t cover it. This man was devastating.

“Kane Drax,” Sofia breathed. “President of the Iron Fang MC.”

My throat went dry. I knew that name—had seen it in case files, heard it whispered in courthouse hallways. Criminal. Dangerous. Everything I’d built my career to fight against.

So why was my body melting like I was seventeen again?

“He’s a criminal,” I said, but my voice came out breathy instead of disgusted.

“He’s gorgeous.” Sofia’s elbow found my ribs. “Just watch.”

A brunette in a dress that cost more than my car approached his table, moving like liquid sex. She was perfect in that artificial way money could buy—sculpted features, enhanced curves, practiced seduction. When she leaned down to whisper in his ear, his laugh was dark honey that made my thighs clench involuntarily.

*What the hell is wrong with me?*

He crooked one finger—barely a movement—and she straddled his lap without hesitation.

My breath caught.

Kane’s hands settled on her hips with casual ownership, and she began to move against him in a rhythm that had nothing to do with the music. Slow. Deliberate. Obscene. The jumpsuit should have hidden the evidence of his arousal, but I could see the hard ridge straining against the denim as she ground against him.

I should look away. Should grab Sofia and leave before—

Kane’s head fell back against the leather, and a sound escaped him that wasn’t quite human. A growl that vibrated through the air and straight into my