MY BIKER ALPHA

CHAPTER 9: THE SMILE THAT WASN’T FRIENDLY

The room never truly returned to normal after that.

Even when conversations restarted, they did so unevenly—like people forcing themselves back into motion after something important had shifted in the air.

Emily could feel it.

Every glance that slid her way was heavier than before.

Not curiosity anymore.

Recognition.

And something worse.

Recalculation.

She stayed close to Pierce without thinking about it. Not clinging, not dependent—just naturally matching his pace as they moved through the ballroom.

That alone was enough to keep the whispers alive.

Pierce Jackson didn’t move through crowds.

Crowds moved around him.

But tonight, he was moving with someone.

Emily noticed a man nearly stepping into their path and instantly stopping when Pierce’s gaze flicked toward him.

“Do you always break people like that just with a look?” she murmured.

Pierce didn’t even slow down.

“Only the ones who deserve it.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

Emily huffed a small laugh despite herself.

The sound softened his expression again, just slightly.

And again, she didn’t notice the effect she had on him.

Not fully.

Not yet.

They stopped near a wide glass wall overlooking the city skyline. The lights outside shimmered like scattered fire across darkness.

For a moment, it almost felt peaceful.

Emily exhaled slowly.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “I think I understand the situation now.”

Pierce glanced at her.

“That’s rare.”

She ignored him.

“You’re the guest of honor. Everyone here is either trying to impress you, benefit from you, or marry you.”

A pause.

Pierce looked mildly offended.

“Not all of them are trying to marry me.”

Emily gave him a flat look.

“Pierce.”

“…Most of them.”

“Better.”

A faint smirk appeared on his lips.

Emily crossed her arms.

“And I am apparently the person standing next to you while that chaos happens.”

“Yes.”

“That feels like a dangerous position.”

“It is.”

She turned her head sharply toward him.

“You’re not supposed to agree with that part.”

Pierce’s gaze stayed forward.

“You handle it well.”

That made her pause.

“…That’s your version of reassurance?”

“It’s accurate.”

Emily shook her head slowly.

“You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been told.”

She was about to respond when a voice cut in from behind them.

“Pierce.”

The tone alone was enough to shift the atmosphere.

Emily turned.

Sophia Argent stood a few steps away.

But she wasn’t alone anymore.

Two other elite guests hovered slightly behind her—clearly watching, clearly listening, clearly hoping this interaction would be useful later.

Sophia wore her perfect smile again.

But this time, it had edges.

“I didn’t expect you to ignore so many important introductions,” she said lightly.

Pierce didn’t turn fully.

“I didn’t ignore them. I declined.”

Sophia’s smile tightened.

“Of course.”

Her eyes drifted to Emily.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

“Emily,” she said sweetly, “you look… different tonight.”

Emily met her gaze evenly.

“I usually do when I’m not being compared to you.”

A flicker.

Just a flicker.

Sophia’s smile twitched.

Pierce glanced at Emily then—subtle, approving.

Sophia noticed that too.

Her expression tightened further.

“I suppose you’ve been very… busy lately,” she continued. “It’s unusual to see you attending events like this.”

Emily shrugged slightly.

“I was invited.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Emily tilted her head.

“I know.”

Silence followed.

A controlled, strained silence.

Sophia exhaled softly, as though patient.

Then she took a step closer.

“Pierce,” she said again, softer now, “there are many people here who would love a moment of your attention. My father included. This gala was organized specifically for you after all.”

Pierce finally turned slightly.

Not fully.

Just enough.

“I’m aware.”

Sophia’s confidence returned instantly.

“Then perhaps you’d allow me to introduce you properly to the board members. They’ve been waiting all night.”

Before Pierce could respond—

Emily spoke.

“I think he’s fine.”

Both siblings looked at her.

Emily didn’t move.

Didn’t raise her voice.

Just continued calmly.

“He doesn’t need a tour guide.”

Sophia blinked.

“…Excuse me?”

Emily shrugged.

“He heard you. He just doesn’t want it.”

A pause.

Then—

A faint sound.

Pierce.

Almost laughing.

Sophia’s face tightened immediately.

That reaction alone was worse than rejection.

Because it wasn’t dismissal.

It was preference.

And it wasn’t directed at her.

Sophia’s gaze sharpened.

“Emily,” she said carefully, “you’re speaking quite freely tonight.”

Emily met her eyes.

“I usually do when I’m not being interrupted.”

Another flicker.

This time sharper.

Sophia’s control slipped for half a second.

Then she recovered.

“Of course,” she said smoothly. “I simply didn’t realize you had become so… close to Mr. Jackson.”

Pierce answered before Emily could.

“We are.”

Two words.

Clean.

Final.

Sophia froze.

Emily looked up at him quickly.

Not because she didn’t like the answer.

But because she didn’t expect it to be said out loud.

Pierce didn’t look at her.

But his presence shifted slightly closer anyway.

Sophia saw it.

And for the first time that night, something in her expression broke past politeness.

Not fully.

But enough.

Enough to show jealousy.

Pure.

Unfiltered.

And dangerous.

Because Emily Argent wasn’t supposed to be the one standing there.

But she was.

And worse—

She wasn’t even trying.

Across the ballroom, the golden-eyed man watched the exchange from a distance.

Still hidden.

Still calm.

But now…

He stopped smiling.

“Too close,” he murmured quietly.

Then he tilted his head slightly.

As if reassessing everything he thought he knew.

And for the first time

Emily Argent became a problem worth paying attention to.