JOIN THE RIDE OR BE MINE

THE LATE NIGHT FILE

I never should have gone up to the 60th floor that night.

My heels echoed too loudly on the marble as I clutched the thick merger folder against my chest like a shield. It was almost midnight, and Bistros Global Tower felt like a glittering tomb. I told myself I was just being a good assistant. Mr. Bistros had demanded the file, and when Lance Bistros demanded something, you delivered it.

But the moment the private elevator doors opened into his penthouse office, I knew I had made a terrible mistake.

The lights were dimmed low. Ravenport’s skyline sparkled beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass like scattered diamonds. The air smelled of whiskey, expensive cologne… and something unmistakably rough — leather and motor oil.

“Mr. Bistros?” My voice came out smaller than I wanted. “I brought the documents you asked for.”

A low, dangerous chuckle rolled out from the shadows near the back elevator — the one that led straight down to the private garage.

Then he stepped into the light.

Lance “Unicorn” Bistros.

My boss looked nothing like the cold, impeccably suited billionaire I worked for every day. The bespoke Tom Ford was gone. In its place were black leather pants hugging powerful thighs, scuffed motorcycle boots, and a worn leather cut that hung open over a tight black shirt. The patches on his chest were unmistakable: President and Black Unicorn MC.

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I felt dizzy.

He wasn’t alone. Two huge, tattooed men in similar cuts stood behind him, watching me with dark amusement.

Lance’s icy blue eyes pinned me in place. A slow, predatory smile curved his lips as he stalked forward. “Eliona Sunshine Rossi. Always so obedient.”

I backed up instinctively until my hips bumped into the edge of his massive mahogany desk. “I’m sorry — I didn’t mean to… I’ll just leave the file here and go—”

“Stay.”

The command was soft, but it cracked through the air like a whip. He stopped barely a foot away, towering over me at 6’4”. Heat radiated from his body. Up close, I could see the dark ink crawling up his neck and the faint scar that sliced through one eyebrow.

“You saw something you weren’t supposed to see, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and rough. One large hand reached out and brushed a strand of my long dark hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered, tracing down the side of my neck.

I shivered violently.

“I won’t tell anyone,” I whispered, barely able to breathe. “Please, Mr. Bistros… this isn’t my business.”

He stepped closer until our bodies almost touched. His hand slid lower, palm settling possessively on my waist, fingers digging into the curve of my hip through my pencil skirt.

“Oh, but it is now.” His breath brushed my lips. “You walked into my world, Eliona. And I don’t let curious little good girls walk back out untouched.”

Before I could respond, his mouth claimed mine.

The kiss was fierce, demanding, and devastating. He tasted like whiskey and sin. His tongue swept inside, stroking mine with raw hunger as he pulled me flush against his hard body. One hand fisted in my hair, tilting my head exactly how he wanted while the other hand roamed down my back, cupping my ass and squeezing hard.

I moaned into his mouth — a helpless, traitorous sound.

He growled in response and lifted me effortlessly onto the desk, stepping between my spread thighs. The folder scattered to the floor, pages fluttering everywhere. His mouth never left mine as he kissed me deeper, hotter, more possessively. His hands slid up my thighs, pushing my tight skirt higher until the lace tops of my stockings were exposed.

“f**k, you’re soft,” he rasped against my lips. His fingers traced the edge of my panties, teasing but not going further. He rocked his hips forward, letting me feel the massive, hard length of him pressing against my core through our clothes. The friction made me whimper.

He broke the kiss only to trail his mouth down my neck, sucking and biting hard enough to leave marks. One hand slipped under my blouse, palming my breast through my bra, thumb flicking over my stiff n****e.

“So responsive,” he growled, pinching lightly until I gasped. “You’ve been hiding this body under those proper little outfits every day, driving me insane.”

I was trembling, aching, soaked between my thighs. My hands clutched at his leather cut, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

Lance kissed me again — slower this time, deeper, like he was savoring me. His hand continued its torment, stroking my inner thighs, brushing teasingly over my soaked panties, pressing the fabric against my c**t until I was panting and grinding against his fingers like I had no shame left.

But he never took them off. He never went further than heavy petting and wicked touches.

Just as I felt myself spiraling toward something dangerous, he pulled back slightly. His eyes were dark with lust, lips swollen from our kisses.

“Last chance, Sunshine,” he said, voice rough as gravel. His thumb kept circling my c**t through the drenched lace, keeping me right on the edge. “You can try to run… or you can admit you’re already mine.”

My lips parted to answer — I didn’t even know what I was going to say — when the private elevator dinged again.

Heavy footsteps approached.

Lance smirked against my mouth, still stroking me slowly, mercilessly.

“Too late to run now, baby. My brothers just got here… and they’re about to see exactly who their President has decided to claim.”