Biker's Sin: Stole His Best Friend's EX!

4

Elijah Vega.

“I bet the girls were hot.” Sergio tosses a grape into his mouth.

My brothers and I are deep in our daily dose of morning discussions before the city wakes up and starts needing us. We all run my father’s empire, Vega Holdings—a chain of businesses stretching from skyscraper hotels to jet lines that fly ghosts in and out of countries. Resorts for the sickeningly rich. Supermarts, shipping docks, private planes. We don’t have competition—we are the competition.

Rodrigo, our eldest, handles the buttoned-up side of the business. Stiff suits, press conferences, investors, the image we sell to the world—he eats that nine-to-five and shakes hands for breakfast. He’s the polished one. Always has been.

Sergio? He is second child in designer loafers. He’s knee-deep in our middlemen, oversees client relations, traders and handles the parts we don’t want touching Rodrigo’s designer suits.

And me? I am the one with his boots on the ground. I handle the distribution wing. I’m the one at the factories when engines don’t roar right. I’m the one checking manifests at the docks at 2 AM. Making sure our jet services reach its accurate point, the same with our import shipments—the parts of the business that keep this house rich and quiet.

While Rodrigo’s making PowerPoint slides, I’m making sure nothing bleeds into the media.

Right now, Sergio is grinning about the interviews my mother held yesterday for her new fashion assistant. The one I made sure Paloma got.

“You know the rules.” Rodrigo mutters without lifting his eyes from the newspaper. “Just like they’re not allowed to flirt with us, we’re not allowed to flirt with them. Try it, and Dad will have you kicked out without your last name.”

Of course he says that. Rodrigo bleeds by the book. The book he wrote.

I puff out smoke from the cigar I lit after my run, shirtless, waiting for the butler to finish pressing my shirt. That’s when Rebekah struts in.

Our brat sister. Tennis skirt, racket in hand, designer sunglasses she doesn’t need indoors. She gives us that spoiled glare she’s mastered since birth.

“Look at this scum.” she scoffs. “Talking about girls before breakfast like it’s your only contribution to the family.”

“Come on, give me a break!”

“No, give your stick a break and let it rest from your insatiable hunger for women.” Rebekah snaps at him.

“Oh, don’t be jealous. You wish a couple of men were talking about you—”

“If that couple of men are anything like you boys, I’d shoot myself with Dad’s gun.” she smiles sweetly and drops onto the couch like the queen of insults. “I wonder who the lucky girl is to be Mom’s assistant. But I heard Sydney chose very quickly.”

Of course, she chose fast. I told her who to pick.

“Sergio, you know how strict our parents are. Don’t break the rules.” Rodrigo says, not even bothering to look at me that because he doesn’t need to. I don’t usually break house rules. Outside though? I live by my own. But in here, I’ve always followed them—until now.

This time, I bent the rules because I couldn’t help it. She looked ruined. Crushed from whatever sick games Caden’s been playing. I didn’t know he was dragging her through hell. I didn’t know he was making it impossible for her to find her feet again. That bloody i***t. It’s pathetic calling him a friend.

“Sir.” Sid the butler says, handing over my pressed shirt.

“Thanks, Sid.”

Rebekah turns suddenly at me. “I heard Caden still hasn’t gotten over his divorce.”

I arch a brow. “What? From whom did you hear that?"

“From Alex…” she pouts, proud of her little scoop like she just cracked the news wide open.

“And how exactly did you extract that information from him?” I put my cigarette down and let it burn between my fingers as I start buttoning up my shirt.

“I rubbed his back a bit.”

Disgust. “Rebekah—”

“Caden won’t tell us anything about her because he’s embarrassed.” She rises to her feet. “His parents don’t care as long as he signed the divorce papers. And you won’t say a thing either.”

She turns to face me fully. “What’s her name, at least?”

“I don’t know.” I lie.

Because in that same breath, Sydney enters the room—with the angel behind her.

Paloma.

It’s her first day. She looks nothing like a woman crushed by a failed marriage. Her hair is parted the same as yesterday but glossier now, darker against the ivory of her scalp. She’s in a navy-blue dress, white buttons lining her torso, cinched perfectly at her waist like the designer cared about the architecture of seduction. It cinches at the diameter of her waist, making it clear there’s a difference before her salient hips.

It holds a form I never dared to believe it did. When she was Caden’s, I trained myself not to look too long. It was wrong then. But now…

Now it’s impossible not to.

So here I am, staring.

The dress stops at her knees. Simple. Cotton. Modest. Paired with black-soled flats. Her ears bear a pair of pink studs; her fingers, no ring—good. There is nothing flashy about her and that is what makes it worse. The subtlety. She doesn’t try to tempt—and somehow that’s the most tempting thing of all.

I don’t even realize how quiet my brothers have gone until she tucks her hair behind her ear.

“These are the children of the Don,” Sydney clears her throat. “Rodrigo, the eldest. Sergio, second. Elijah, third. And Rebekah, the last child.”

Paloma steps forward—just a little. Enough to make the room pause again.

“A pleasure to meet you all. I’m Paloma.” Her voice is soft. Too soft. Like cream melting over skin. Doe-eyed, landing on me for the briefest second. Lashes too long, cheeks dusted peach.

Those lips. They're some contradiction of innocence and sin, like she was made to destroy peace in the most polite way possible.

“She’s so pale… yet so beautiful.” Rebekah says aloud—sounding out the thought that’s been clawing through my mind.

“Uh—”

Yeah. That about sums it up.

“It’s a compliment.” Rebekah tells a clearly confused Paloma.

“Oh, thank you, Miss Rebekah.” a small smile.

Sydney motions for her to follow. "Come on."

But of course, Rebekah still has something to say.

"Wait." Her eyes rake over Paloma like she’s inspecting a new toy. "You’re the prettiest one so far. Are you the daughter of some aristocrat?"

"Uh, no, ma’am."

“Drop the formals. You can call me Rebekah.” my sister smiles.

“Okay—"

“Did you get Botox for your skin or is it dermaplaning? What do—are you wearing makeup, fake freckles—”

“Uh…” Paloma clutches her bag. Again, she looks distressed.

“Rebekah, she didn’t get the job to be your new friend. Leave the girl alone.” I resume the cigarette to my lip.

“Of course.” Rebekah scoffs, and Paloma walks away with Sydney to meet my mother. I’m not worried—my mother is a sweet soul. She’s better than my father, the Don.

The second she’s out of earshot, Sergio exhales like he’s been holding his breath.

“She is drop-dead! Like some model—how is it possible that she’s real?”

Now, I hate the fact that he’s looking at her. But if I don’t stand a chance with Paloma, then Sergio? He has none. Still, I hate it.

I glance at Rodrigo too—he’s looking at her retreating figure.

“Are you all mad?” I snap.

“What’s your deal?” Rebekah eyes me.

“Nothing. We have work to do and we’re idling by.” Another lie.

“And when did you become the insufferable worker?” Sergio laughs.

I don’t answer his question. This is the part where I walk out—but not far, I wait in the hall, leaning against the wall with one leg up. I wait just long enough to see Sydney when she comes out.

“Sir?”

“Thank you for yesterday, Sydney.” I take out cigarette.

“Of course, sir but I do not like keeping things from Mrs. Flora. You know how I feel about that.”

I exhale. Of course, I know. The woman is practically my mother’s diary. She’s never been the type to hide secrets from her, not since I was a boy.

“I’m just helping her the girl. I happen to know she’s… sort of struggling.”

“Do you have s****l relations with her?” Sydney asks, with all the sternness buried in her white hair.

“No.” I look her in the eye.

“Will you have s****l relations with her?”

“Goodness, me… no.” I lie. For the third time today.