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

3

Paloma Perez.

In front of me, Elijah Vega walks into the house that he apparently owns. To be behind him is even scarier. His back is ridiculously stacked with muscle—like slabs of stone under that spandex shirt he’s wearing. As he moves, mortal lines carve at his back, in harness to the violence he's clearly capable of.

It looks like violence built a home in his body and refused to leave.

There’s a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers and he starts speaking in rapid Spanish to the security guards.

“Dónde está mi padre?”

He is asking for his father. And that father he’s asking about has to be the Don of Rosetti Falls. Which means I’m standing in the Don’s house. Oh my God! I’m standing in the house of the Don! Worse—I got here on Elijah Vega’s bike and touched his skin like some desperate girl. That is exactly what I was.

I was already running late because of that damn bar job. So, it was either walk half-naked to the bus station and lose this job, or get here half-naked and hopefully get the job.

The rich woman Pasiphae was talking about comes from his house. I wouldn't have believed this was Elijah’s house if he hadn't started speaking to the security. Wait—this must be why the security didn't stop us when we rode in on his bike.

"Hello?" Pasiphae answers her phone.

"What the hell!” I whisper-shout into the phone. “The address you gave me belongs to Elijah Vega!”

“Um—”

“Pasiphae!” I squeal, turning my head to make sure no one hears.

“You needed a job and this one pays a lot. Eva said everyone’s been turning you down because of Caden, right?”

I clutch the phone tighter. “And you thought the smartest idea was to send me to Elijah’s house? Elijah, who happens to be his best friend?”

“They’re also cousins.” she whispers.

I slap a hand to my forehead at this new confession that I have never heard before. “What? You’ve got to be lying. I was married to Caden for a year and not once did he say anything about being cousin to Elijah!”

“Caden married you without his family’s blessing, remember? Of course, he kept you in the dark.”

“And what about you? You knew they were cousins, why didn’t you tell me!?”

“I thought you knew at first… then I realized you didn’t. But by then, you were already divorcing Caden, and I just— I didn’t want to tell you. I was scared you’d get intimidated… you know, because of how Elijah is. I just wanted you to focus on the divorce.”

I don’t have a response for Pasiphae.

“Listen, they don’t know what you look like. You’re safe. Just breathe and don’t panic. You’ve got this.”

"Nothing to worry about? Elijah knows me! He’s Caden’s best friend—”

I stare ahead to see the moment where smoke leaves Elijah’s nose like a grand master. I look at his fingers as they are loaded with rings of gold and silver. They look raw as if he made them from his own power.

"Palo—"

"Miss, are you here for the job vacancy?" A security guard interrupts and I lower the phone from my ear. At the same time, using my bag to cover my split thigh.

"Uh, yes."

"Then come with me." He starts leading the way and I shove my phone into my bag, walking past the very man I’d never spoken a word to—until today, when I shamelessly asked for his help.

The security leads me to a side wing of the estate where at least fifty other girls are standing in a queue for the same position, waiting for the interview. Pasiphae said it was a domestic assistant job. Something to do with helping the woman of the house manage her closet, vintage fashion pieces, designer items. I took it as a dream because fashion is all I’ve ever wanted to study—even if I never had the time or money for college.

I’ve brought a list of credentials, minus a college degree. I have my portfolio of sketches, some hand-sewn pieces I stitched myself from old fabric, my notes on color theory and fabric cuts. I brought all the heart I have.

I wait at the end of the line, but best believe I’ve lost hope in getting this job at this point. It was supposed to pay at $5k—enough to jumpstart payments for fashion school, freedom, a fresh start.

The girls on the line look like they’ve just stepped out of fashion week. High-waisted jeans that fit like a designer glove, long trench coats cinched at the waist, and boots that scream money. Some of them are in silk dresses with structured shoulders, others in expensive crop tops with statement accessories.

And then there’s me. Wearing a worn-out cream dress with a slit that isn’t even supposed to be there. I look down at my shoes. Worn out ballet flats—they are the only pair I could grab before Caden sent me out of his place with nothing but a few bags and a mountain of brokenness.

The whispering starts.

“Is that Elijah?”

“The son of the Don? The leader of the Skull Bikers?”

“It’s him…it’s him!” one girl squeals.

Heads turn. Fingers point. I feel the air shift like something huge just walked in and it’s him, Elijah Vega for the what? Fifth time today.

He’s walking towards us with some security. That black shirt pulled over his back. Wait…I think I said that already.

“Is my hair okay?” the girl beside me blushes and I don’t answer. What could I possibly say? I just stare at her.

Elijah doesn’t even glance at the line of us—he just walks right into the doors we’re all waiting to be called into.

And that’s it comes down on me. Is he going in there… to expose me?

Back when Caden and I got married, his family didn’t attend or bless it because I was from the wrong part of the city—a girl from the slums. On my side, I didn’t care about my family knowing for all they would have done is leech off Caden, especially my father.

Elijah was our witness as we signed the marriage certificate in front of the judge. He was the only one there for us. But now… I’m here. In the family Caden kept me from.

In any moment now, Elijah is going to walk out that door—maybe with a terrifying family member beside him and point me out. Say who I am. Say what I did.

And if that happens… I’ll give up. I mean it. I really will. I’m so tired of this fight. Of Caden pulling strings behind the curtain, making sure no one hires me. Everyone in Rosetti Falls avoids trouble, so they obey him because no one wants trouble with a Skull rider. However, if Elijah decides to join in too… I’ll be done. Ruined.

Sweat rolls from my forehead to my neck and I slap a hand over to wipe furiously. I’m on the brink of tears. I’m so tired. Tired of being broken, cornered and crushed from all sides

Do I just leave? Before they come out? Do I turn and run?

I should. I take two steps—

And suddenly, the door opens.

But I keep walking. My bag thumps softly against my hip.

“Who is Paloma here?” a voice calls.

I stop breathing but I tell myself I didn’t hear it.

“Paloma?” voice calls again.

Curiosity is a cruel thing so I turn my head just enough to peek.

“Is it you?” the woman looks directly at me.

How does she know my name?

“Yes, I was just—”

“You got the job. Come with me.”

I blink. “What?”

“I said you got the job, follow me!” she starts walking away.

The girls in line start murmuring and groaning. I follow her until the door closes behind us.

“Full name?” she walks briskly ahead without turning.

“Paloma Vega.”

“Um—” I almost ask. I want to. I want to ask how she knows my name. Did Pasiphae somehow put a good word for me? This woman doesn’t feel like someone you ask things.

“I am Sydney, the head of housekeeping in the Vega Estate. As of tomorrow morning, you are to get here by 9 a.m. to work for Mrs. Flora Vega, the Don’s wife.”

“Can you speak, girl?”

“Yes. Yes.” I manage.

“She needs help with her closet and the spacing of it. She has about two hundred bags alone, shoes, jewellery, custom gowns, limited collections… It’s a job she’ll need at least three months of your services for. If she likes it, she will retain you.”

“Of course.” I nod quickly, wiping off any sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. Elijah didn’t tell them. No one knows who I am.

“You know who she is, right?” Sydney glances up at me. “God, so clueless…” she sighs. “Flora Vega is the owner of Fleurelle Atelier—you’ve heard of it?”

“Oh—” I gasp. I’ve definitely heard of it. Fleurelle Atelier. One of the most exclusive couture fashion houses in Rosetti Falls, known for dressing royals, politicians and red-carpet sirens. I once tore a magazine page with one of their silk corset gowns and pinned it above my desk.

“So…” Sydney continues. “You will be required to work late, efficiently, and effectively. If you miss these three things, you will be fired. Your base pay is $5,000 per month. Your bonus will range between $2,000 to $3,000 depending on your performance. If Mrs. Flora is pleased, she can increase it.”

I feel my knees almost give out. That money could change everything.

“I’ll print out an ID card for you. Give me your number.”

Sydney hands me her phone and I take it.

“I’ll send you a barcode. You’ll use it to get through the gates tomorrow until your ID card is ready.”

I nod, handing it back to her. It’s just a closet job and yet the estate has this level of security? It feels more like I just got clearance to a vault.

“Okay. Thank you, Sydney.” I smile.

She eyes me up and down, pausing at my thigh. “And make sure you don’t show up in that skirt again. Mrs. Flora hates bad outfits.”

I instantly drop a hand over the torn slit. “I’ll come better dressed.” I promise.

She walks away and as soon as she’s gone, I press a palm against my chest to breathe. Then I breathe again. Did I just get the job? As my eyes lift, I glance toward the grand balcony and that’s when I see Elijah. Above. He is leaning on the rail and looking straight down at me.

Our eyes lock for half a second before Sydney pulls me, almost punishingly.

“And a little warning, do not look at any of the Dons’ sons with longing. If Mrs. Flora sees so much as a glance, you will face more hate than you can handle. Especially not with Elijah. Do not look at him. Do not speak to him Not even a smile.”

Then, she lets me go.