Claimed by the Biker king

The Fall

Present time…

The town hadn’t changed.

Not really.

It still looked like something the world had forgotten. Grey skies hanging low, paint peeling from buildings that had seen better days. The streets too quiet for a place that once held everything she used to know.

Dahlia sat behind the wheel of the rental car for a moment longer than necessary. Her fingers tightening around it as she stared out at the familiar streets.

Four f*****g years, and it still felt like time had stood still in this godforsaken town.

It had felt like she was the only one who dared to leave this place.

The diner on the corner still had the same faded red booths where she and Killian had sat for hours, talking about everything and nothing. The gas station down the road still had that irritating bell that rang every time someone pulled up. Usually one of the Iron Saints rolling in on their bikes like they owned the damn place.

Fuck, maybe they did.

Her throat tightened as she forced her gaze away. This place had never been enough for her. That hadn’t changed. What had changed was everything else.

Just forty-eight hours ago she had been untouchable.

The Dahlia Moon.

A name that had been on everyone’s lips. Sold-out shows. Headlines that praised her. Fans who screamed her name like she had been something more than human.

Then it all burned down with one f*****g headline.

One mistake.

One truth she hadn’t even known she was part of.

Tears burned behind her eyes as that headline echoed through her mind.

Popstar Dahlia Moon in Secret Affair with Married Man.

The words hit harder than everything else ever had because it hadn’t been a rumor. It was real, but she hadn't know. God, she hadn’t known. The world didn’t care about that. They didn’t care about explanations or truth or the way her heart caved in when she found out at the same time as everyone else.

All they saw was a scandal.

A f*****g homewrecker who did this to prove she could take anyone’s man.

Her phone hadn’t stopped ringing. Messages had flooded in from her manager, her label, her PR team trying to do damage control on something that was now too far gone to handle.

Fans turned into critics overnight. Love turning into hate.

Dahlia had done something that felt like a last resort. She ran.

She left everything behind. The apartment. The city. The life she had fought so hard to build. She ditched her car miles away, switched to a rental and drove without a destination. Until there was only one place left, her mind could take her.

The one place she had sworn she would never return to.

Her chest tightened as she finally stepped out of her car. She pulled off her black designer sunglasses. Her heeled boots sank slightly into the gravel as she took in the sight of the weatherworn motel in front of her.

Of all places, it had to be this one.

Back then, this motel meant secrets.

Affairs.

Mistakes people didn’t want anyone else to see.

You only knew what this place meant if you grew up here.

The Iron Saints’ bikes used to pull up at this place sometimes. Men disappearing into rooms with women who weren’t theirs. Women who thought one night might turn into something more.

She had always avoided this place because being seen here would have meant something was wrong. Either she would have been f*****g someone behind Killian’s back, or he had been f*****g a woman behind hers. Either way, it would not have been good. It would have meant their relationship had not been what she thought it was.

Now she walked straight into this place. No one knew she was here, not her manager, not the press and definitely not Killian. The thought of him hit harder than expected. She quickly pushed it away as she stepped inside the motel.

The smell of old wood and cheap cleaner filled the air as the door shut behind her. Then the judgment came. Dahlia felt it before she looked up.

The old woman behind the counter didn’t try to hide it. Her eyes dragged over Dahlia slowly. Recognition settled in almost instantly.

Of course, the woman knew who she was.

This town might be forgotten by the world, but it saw everything that mattered to it.

"Look who came running back when things got tough."

The words landed exactly where they meant to. Dahlia didn’t flinch, she didn’t deny it either. She had run not because she failed but because success didn’t mean anything when the world decided to tear you apart.

“I need a room.” Her voice steady despite the storm still raging inside of her.

The woman let out a dry laugh, leaning back slightly as if she had all the time in the world, “Of course you do, honey.”

There was nothing kind or soft about the word. Dahlia stepped closer, refusing to let it get to her even when she knew exactly what this woman saw when she looked at her.

Not a star or a success story. Just a girl who left and now came crawling back.

A girl who used to belong to Killian Thorne.

Maybe that was worse than anything the headlines had said. The key hit the counter with a dull sound as the woman slid it toward her.

“Cash when you leave.” The woman said, “We don’t do tabs for people who are passing through.”

Dahlia nodded once, taking it without another word.

“Women like you always end up here.” The woman called after her as Dahlia turned to leave.

That one lingered because it felt too close to the truth. She didn’t look back, she wouldn’t give the woman that satisfaction. Dahlia stepped outside, the air cooler now. It felt heavier somehow, like the town was pressing down on her.

The walk to her room felt longer than it should have. Each step dragged up memories she had buried deep. Each breath reminded her exactly why she had left in the first place. When she finally pushed the door open, she braced herself for the worst.

But the room wasn’t. It wasn’t dirty or broken beyond repair. It was simple.

Worn but decent.

She let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding before stepping inside and locking the door behind her. For the first time in two days, everything went quiet. No cameras. No headlines. No voices tearing her apart.

Just silence.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, slowly letting herself fall back, staring at the ceiling. It hit her then. The weight of everything she had been holding in finally broke free as tears slid down her temples, disappearing into her hair.

She ran.

Left everything behind without thinking twice. Her life. Her career. Her name. All she had left was her phone and a bank card.

Somehow she ended up back here.

Her chest tightened painfully as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Things couldn’t get any worse.