In Love With My Billionaire Biker Badboy

Olivia's POV “You look like s**t, Liv!” That was the first thing Chloe Patel said to me when she stepped into my office that Wednesday morning. And she was right. Between the dark circles, wrinkled blouse, and hair that had given up on being professional somewhere around 3 AM, I didn't know which was worse. “Thank you. That's exactly what a woman wants to hear at six in the morning,” I replied as I sipped my fourth coffee of the morning. "It's what every friend needs to hear when she's been living in her office for three days,” Chloe said as she dropped into a chair, “Please tell me you at least went home to shower,” “I have a shower here,” I said “That’s depressing,” “It's efficient. Why are you here?” “You sent me a text at 2 AM that just said 'Brooklyn bikers' followed by seven knife emojis. I figured that warranted a fitness check,” I winced. I had no memory of sending that, “I was researching,” “You were spiraling,” Chloe leaned forward, “Tell me, what's going on?” Before I could answer, my desk phone buzzed. Harlord Sterling’s voice came through the speaker, “Miss Chen, my office, now,” The line went dead. Chloe scoffed, "It's true what people say. Harlord thinks pleasantries are for people who aren't billing eight hundred hours,” I said nothing as I grabbed my coat and began heading out of my office, “I'll text you later,” “You'd better. And lay off the coffee. You're vibrating.” *** “Tell me, Miss Chen. What do you think happens to law firms that don't close deals?” Oh s**t. I was sitting in Harlord’s office, looking everywhere but at him. “They lose clients,” I said carefully. “They lose clients, revenue, and reputation. They lose everything,” Harlord said, his voice a little too quiet, “Do you know how many clients this firm has closed in the last quarter?” My mouth went dry, “I –” “Three. We used to close the same number of deals each month. The Henderson merger? Dead. Westside acquisition? Same. The tech startup everyone wanted? They went with a firm that charged half our rate,” “I didn't realise…” “Of course you didn't realize. You've been too busy not closing deals,” Harlord pulled out a folder and threw it across the desk at me, “It has been six months since you brought anything significant. The other partners see you as a liability. They're saying maybe we made a mistake putting you on partner track.” My nails dug into my palms, “Give me another chance,” “Oh, I'm going to,” He slid another document across the desk, “The Iron Wolves Motorcycle Club. Brooklyn. They own a garage and bar sitting on a piece of real estate worth thirty million dollars. Our client wants to develop it into luxury condos. The club is refusing to sell.” My eyes scanned the documents, hitting the bottom of the page. Developer: Caldwell Development Group CEO: Ethan Caldwell The room tilted. No. No, no, no— “Problem?” How could it be? Ethan, my ex-boyfriend of all people? “No,” I sounded strangled, “No problem,” “Good, because this is your last shot. You close this deal, you make partner. You fail, you're out,” My heart was pounding so hard, I could literally hear it. “I have five partners breathing down my neck about our numbers. I have a firm that's bleeding money and a reputation that's circling the drain. I need a win, Miss Chen,” Of course he did. And I needed to save my career. And it wasn't just about Harlord. No one wanted to be associated with a lawyer who couldn't close deals. "You have a meeting with the Iron Wolves this afternoon. Two o'clock." Harold walked to the window, hands clasped behind his back. "I don't care how you do it. Charm them. Threaten them. Find their weak spots and squeeze. Whatever it takes.” "And if they still won't sell?” Harlord turned around slowly with a smile that was all teeth. "Then you make them want to sell. Or you make staying so painful that they have no choice.” He said, “I mean, it's not like it's hard. All you have to do is get signatures on a contract.” I stood on shaking legs. "I'll handle it.” “You'd better. Just so you know, you walk out of my office today and fail me? There are three junior associates downstairs who would murder for your position,” I swallowed. This must really be the end for me. He dismissed me with a wave of his hand like I was some disgusting insect. I made it halfway down the hall before I had to lean against the wall, breathing hard. Was the universe against me or something? I was going to have to work with Ethan. The same man who'd cheated on me without remorse, who'd looked into my eyes and said, ‘I'm sorry, but you're married to your job,’ not me while his mistress was still in their bed. The flashbacks assaulted me before I could help it. The humiliation. The broken engagement. The whispers at the firm. The pitying looks. The year I'd spent clawing my way back to something resembling normal. And now Harold wanted me to work with him. My phone buzzed as a text from an unknown number came in. Looking forward to working together again, Liv. Let's grab lunch soon. —E I stared at the message feeling nauseous, then I deleted it, straightened my jacket, and walked back to my office. I had a meeting to prepare for. The drive to Brooklyn felt like traveling to another country. I parked my Mercedes in front of the Iron Wolves garage and stared at the building with its neon beer advertisement. This was supposed to be demolished? For luxury condos? I could see the community around me. And then I realized this was not just property. It was someone's neighborhood. But I pushed the thought away. This was not the time to feel guilty. I was here to close a deal. Looking at my reflection in the rear-view mirror, I reapplied my lipstick and then practiced a smile. “You've got this,” I muttered, “They're just bikers. Hell, you've faced down CEOs. How hard could this be?” But even I knew the answer to that. Bikers were not the easiest people to deal with. I let out a sigh, grabbed my suitcase, and stepped out of the car. As I walked to the garage, I could already hear the rumble of motorcycles and the sound of male laughter. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and pushed the door open. Time to meet the Iron Wolves.