Claimed By The Dark Rider

Chapter Two - Ghost Rider

ELARA

Three days after Laughlin, I became a prisoner in my own life.

Elijah enforced his restrictions with surgical precision. No rallies. No runs. No public appearances. I stayed at the clubhouse during the day, pretending to be useful in the kitchen with the other old ladies. At night, I returned to our house, where Elijah watched me with calculation in his eyes.

He was waiting. Waiting to see if my lapse in judgment would blow back on him. Waiting to see if Cole Volkov's interest was more than passing curiosity.

I was waiting too. But for different reasons.

"Coffee, sweetie?" Jenna, one of the newer old ladies, offered me a mug with a sympathetic smile. She thought I was being punished for overstepping. She had no idea I was being contained.

"Thanks." I took the mug, my eyes on the door where Elijah stood talking to his Road Captain, Marcus. Not my Marcus—the intelligence broker in Nevada. This Marcus was Elijah's enforcer, the man who made problems disappear.

They kept glancing at me. Discussing me. Deciding my fate.

My phone vibrated in my back pocket. I didn't check it. Not here, where every move was monitored.

"He'll forgive you eventually," Jenna whispered. "My old man was pissed when I talked back to one of his brothers last year. But he got over it."

I nodded, playing the role. Contrite. Obedient. Waiting for forgiveness I didn't want and hadn't asked for.

But inside, my mind was racing through contingencies. Three days without access to my network. Three days without knowing what Cole Volkov was doing. Three days of being blind while someone hunted me.

It was unacceptable.

Elijah's phone rang. He answered, his expression darkening as he listened. Then his eyes found mine across the room.

I knew that look. Something had happened.

He said something sharp to Marcus, then gestured for me to follow him. I set down the coffee and walked toward him, every step measured. Calm. Compliant.

He didn't speak until we were in his office with the door closed.

"Volkov's been asking questions." Elijah's voice was flat. "Sent one of his prospects into Tucson. Kid was poking around, asking about you specifically."

My stomach dropped, but I kept my face neutral. "What kind of questions?"

"Who you are. Where you came from. How long you've been with me." He moved closer, studying my reaction. "Why would the Dark Riders' Road Captain be investigating my old lady, Elara?"

"I don't know."

"Don't lie to me." His hand shot out, gripping my arm. Not bruising, but firm. A warning. "Those three seconds in Laughlin. What did Volkov see?"

"The same thing everyone else saw. Me stopping a kid from getting killed."

"No." Elijah pulled me closer, his face inches from mine. "Men like Volkov don't send prospects into rival territory to ask questions about some old lady who got lucky. He saw something else. Something that made him interested enough to risk pissing me off."

I held his stare, my mind calculating. How much did Cole actually know? What had his prospect learned?

"He saw me move like I had training," I said quietly. "That's all."

"Training." Elijah's laugh was harsh. "You told me you took self-defense classes in college. You didn't tell me you moved like a f*****g operator."

"I didn't think it mattered."

"It matters now." He released me, turning away. "Volkov's interest matters. Because if he thinks you're more than just my old lady, he's going to keep digging. And if he keeps digging, he's going to find things I don't want found."

There it was. The real reason for his anger. Not that I'd revealed my training, but that I'd drawn attention to his operation. To the intelligence network he thought he controlled.

The network I'd actually built.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Stay invisible. Stay here. Let this blow over." He faced me again, calculation replacing anger. "And if Volkov comes looking, you make sure he finds exactly what I tell you to show him. Nothing more."

"And what's that?"

"A woman who got scared and got lucky. A woman who's nothing more than Elijah's old lady." His smile was cold. "Can you do that, baby? Can you go back to being invisible?"

I nodded. What else could I do?

But as I left his office, I felt my phone vibrate again. Three short bursts. Emergency code.

Marcus—my Marcus—had information.

I waited until midnight. Until Elijah was asleep beside me, his breathing deep and steady. Then I slipped out of bed, grabbed my phone, and locked myself in the bathroom.

Three messages from Marcus, each worse than the last.

Volkov's prospect got picked up by Phoenix PD. Traffic stop that shouldn't have happened. Your boy Elijah made a call.

Prospect's not talking. But Volkov knows it was a setup. He's pissed.

Last intel: Dark Riders are moving. Not prospects this time. Full patch members. They're coming to Arizona.

I stared at the messages, my pulse racing. Elijah had escalated. He'd arrested Cole's prospect rather than let him gather information.

And now Cole was responding with force.

This wasn't containment anymore. This was the beginning of a war.

And I was the cause.

Another message came through: Need to talk. Secure line. Call when you can.

I glanced at the bathroom door. Elijah was a light sleeper. If he woke and found me gone, there would be questions I couldn't answer.

But I needed information more than I needed safety.

I turned on the shower to cover the sound, then dialed Marcus's encrypted line.

He answered on the first ring. "Finally. We need to talk about Volkov."

"Tell me."

"He's obsessed. After Laughlin, he started pulling every resource he had. Facial recognition, social media scraping, DMV records. He's trying to figure out who you really are."

"Has he found anything?"

"Not yet. Your cover's solid. But here's the thing—he's not looking for a threat. He's looking for you." Marcus paused. "The man's not investigating an enemy, Elara. He's hunting a woman he wants."

My breath caught. "That doesn't make sense."

"Doesn't it? You show up at Laughlin, move like a trained killer, then disappear. You're wearing another man's ring but you looked at Volkov for three seconds like you saw him. Really saw him." Marcus's voice dropped. "Men like Volkov don't get seen very often.

When they do, they don't forget it."

I closed my eyes, leaning against the bathroom counter. "What's his plan?"

"From what I'm hearing? He's going to force a meeting. Push into Iron Wolves territory until Elijah has to respond. And when Elijah brings you out to prove he's not scared—"

"Cole takes me."

"Or dies trying." Marcus exhaled. "You need to decide what you want here. Stay with Elijah and hope this blows over? Run? Or—"

"Or what?"

"Use this. Volkov wants you. That's leverage. That's an opening. You've been invisible for three years, building an empire Elijah thinks is his. Maybe it's time to stop being invisible."

The shower steam filled the bathroom, hot and suffocating. Use this. Use Cole Volkov's obsession.

It was insane. Dangerous. Exactly the kind of play that could get me killed.

But it was also an opportunity. For three years, I'd been patient. Building. Waiting for the right moment to step out of Elijah's shadow.

Maybe that moment was now.

"I need everything you have on Volkov," I said. "Weaknesses, patterns, what he values. If I'm going to use his interest, I need to know exactly who I'm dealing with."

"Already compiled. I'll send it encrypted." Marcus paused. "Elara? Be careful. Volkov's not like Elijah. He's smarter, more dangerous. And if he realizes you're playing him..."

"He won't."

"You don't know that."

"No," I agreed. "But I know how to be what men want to see. I've been doing it my whole life."

I ended the call and deleted the history. Turned off the shower. Stood in the steam and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

For three years, I'd been a ghost. Invisible. Powerless.

But ghosts could haunt. And if Cole Volkov wanted to hunt me, I'd make sure he caught exactly what I wanted him to catch.

Not Elijah's frightened old lady. Not some woman who got lucky.

Something far more dangerous.

I opened the bathroom door and slipped back into bed beside Elijah. He shifted in his sleep, one arm draping possessively across my waist.

His claim. His possession.

Not for much longer.

Because Cole Volkov was coming. And when he arrived, I'd be ready.

The ghost rider was about to become very real.