After Divorce, My Biker Ex-Husband Came Crawling Back

Secret Tithe

Alie POV

"You sold her out, you arrogant, delusional bastard."

I didn’t wait for the guard to finish buzzing me in. I stormed toward the reinforced glass of the visitation booth, the click of my heels against the concrete sounding like a death knell. The air inside the detention center was suffocating—a cocktail of antiseptic, unwashed bodies, and the underlying, ozone-sharp tang of trapped shifter pheromones.

Rhett was already there. He was sitting at the table, his massive frame hunched, the orange jumpsuit doing nothing to hide the lethal, coiled energy of a man who belonged in a jungle, not a cage. When he looked up, his golden eyes didn't show surprise. They showed a terrifying, possessive familiarity.

"Lower your voice, Alie," he growled. The sound vibrated through the receiver, a low-frequency hum that settled deep in my womb, making my traitorous skin prickle. "You’re acting like a woman who’s been cornered, and that’s a dangerous look to wear in this building."

"Cornered?" I slammed my palm against the glass, ignoring the guard’s sharp intake of breath. "Elena is tied to a chair in a basement with a suppression collar fused to her throat, and you’re talking about my look? How the f**k did this happen, Rhett? You swore to me you were keeping her safe!"

He leaned forward, his face inches from the glass. The air between us was suddenly dense, charged with the psychic pressure of his Alpha aura. He wasn't just a man in a jumpsuit; he was a King stripped of his crown, and the hunger in his expression made my breath hitch.

"I didn't 'sell her out'," he spat, his voice dropping to a gravelly, intimate register. "I gave her a purpose. Elena isn't just your sister, Alie. She’s a blood-tracker. Her wolf is the sharpest thing I’ve seen in a decade. She was training for the Tithe—the Pack’s protection protocol. She knew the risks, and she chose to stand on the front lines because she knew you were too far gone in that high-rise office to do it yourself."

I felt the blood drain from my face. "Training? She’s twenty-three! You turned my baby sister into a soldier for your goddamn war?"

"I turned her into a survivor," he countered, his eyes flashing a vivid, molten gold. "In our world, you're either the hunter or the prey. There is no middle ground. And if she’s in a basement, it’s because Vane finally found the one thing I couldn't hide from him: her potential."

I gripped the phone, my knuckles white, my entire body humming with the repressed, vibrating need to scream. "He has her, Rhett. He has a countdown on her life. He wants the Iron Vow land, and he wants you to rot. He made me a deal. He wants me to tank the defense."

A shadow crossed Rhett’s face—a mixture of agonizing rage and a dark, twisted pride. He didn't answer immediately. He stared at me, his gaze dragging over my features as if he were trying to memorize them, or perhaps, as if he were trying to peel back the layers of my lies.

"Listen to me, and listen close," he whispered, his voice dangerously soft. "The land isn't the prize, Alie. It’s the vault. Beneath the compound, buried in the concrete of the old motor shop, is the Black Ledger. It contains the names of every corrupt federal official in Austin—including the ones currently holding your sister. It’s the only leverage that will force them to unlock that collar. If you want her back, you don't tank the defense. You find the Ledger, and you bring it to me."

"And if I can't find it?"

"Then you stop being the 'Ice Queen' and you start being my mate," he growled.

He leaned closer, his breath fogging the glass, his presence overwhelming. The Bond between us stretched taut, a glowing, invisible thread that hummed with our combined anxiety and desire. I felt the familiar, maddening pull—the way my body wanted to bridge the distance, the way my wolf wanted to curl up at his feet and submit.

I shoved those feelings back, locking them behind a wall of pure, crystalline rage.

"I don't need your 'protection', and I don't need your commands, Rhett. I’m going to find the Ledger, and I’m going to save Elena. But don't you dare think this makes us 'us' again. The moment she’s safe, I’m walking away from this life—and you—for good."

"We’ll see," he murmured, his gaze dropping to my lips. The intensity of his focus was like a physical weight. "You’ve always been a liar, Alessandra. But you’ve never been a good one when it comes to me."

I went to hang up, my heart a frantic, uneven mess, when he made a sudden, aggressive movement. He slammed his hand against the glass—not in anger, but with a sudden, intuitive force.

The vibration traveled through the barrier, a sharp, concussive shock that hit my own hand. It was as if he were trying to shatter the wall between us, his palm splayed against the surface, his fingers twitching in a rhythmic, desperate pattern.

In that second, the Bond flared bright, white-hot, and blinding.

I felt it. I felt the exact moment he realized the lie.

His eyes widened, the gold deepening into a dark, bruised amber. He didn't just see the anger in my expression; he felt the subtle, tell-tale spike of fear and the lingering scent of Vane’s penthouse on my skin—the smell of the Naga’s expensive, antiseptic betrayal.

He knew.

He knew I had already agreed to Vane’s deal. He knew I had already promised to lose.

"You already signed the contract with him, didn't you?" Rhett rasped, his voice a low, terrifying growl that bypassed the phone, resonating directly in the back of my mind.

I froze, my hand hovering over the receiver. My breath caught in my throat, a single, sharp intake of air that betrayed me in the silence of the booth.

Rhett didn't pull his hand away. He pressed his face against the glass, his expression shifting from rage to a dark, obsessive realization.

"I can feel the ink on your soul, Alie," he whispered, his voice trembling with a terrifying, ecstatic intensity. "You think you can play the Naga at his own game? You think you can trade my life for hers and keep your hands clean?"

I turned to leave, but his voice followed me, vibrating through the very air of the booth.

"Go ahead, play your part," he hissed, his eyes tracking my every movement with a predator’s patience. "But know this: the moment you try to betray me, you aren't just losing the case. You’re waking up a beast that hasn't eaten in five years. And God help you, Alessandra... when I get out of here, I’m not just going to take the Ledger back. I’m going to take everything you tried to hide from me."

He pressed his palm firmly against the glass, right over the spot where my heart was hammering.

"I know you’re hiding the deal, sweetheart," he breathed, a dark, dangerous smirk spreading across his face. "And I’m going to enjoy watching you struggle when you realize that Vane isn't the one pulling your strings. I am."

He leaned back, his hand finally dropping from the glass.

I stared at him, my mind reeling, the walls of the booth suddenly feeling like they were closing in. I had walked in here to get a lead, but I was walking out with a target painted on my back.

He didn't trust me. He didn't believe me. And he was already two steps ahead of my game.

I turned and fled toward the door, my heart shattered, the weight of his gaze burning a hole between my shoulder blades—a silent, possessive promise that I was never, ever going to escape the King’s cage.