OWNED BY THE BIKER KING

Chapter 12

The rain poured heavily outside the glass windows of the luxury penthouse, blurring neon city lights into smears of blood-red and cold blue across the dark, expansive room. Inside, an oppressive silence filled the space.

A man sat completely alone near the window, his tailored silhouette blending with the shadows. One hand lazily swirled a crystal glass of amber whiskey, the ice clinking sharply against the glass.

Adrian Vale. Cold. Ruthless. Unforgiving.

And currently—in a terrifyingly foul mood.

“You still haven’t found her?” His voice was deceptively calm, smooth like velvet, but it was enough to make the hardened men standing in front of his desk break into a cold sweat.

One of his top enforcers carefully lowered his head, not daring to make eye contact. “We’ve been monitoring every transit point and security feed, sir. We are searching everywhere.”

Adrian slowly swirled the liquid again, his gaze fixed on the storm outside. “Everywhere?” he repeated softly, his tone dropping an octave.

The temperature in the room instantly plummeted.

“She disappeared too quickly after getting off the interstate bus,” another man explained nervously, his palms sweating. “It’s like... someone with immense local resources is actively hiding her from us.”

Silence. Dead, absolute silence.

Then suddenly—

CRASH!

The crystal glass shattered violently against the marble wall right beside the men. Shards of glass and dark amber liquid rained down onto the floor. The men flinched, tensing their shoulders but forcing themselves to stand perfectly still.

Adrian slowly stood up from his leather seat, his towering frame exuding a terrifying aura of quiet rage. “She ran away from me,” he muttered darkly, adjusting the French cuffs of his pitch-black shirt. His sharp, predatory eyes slowly lifted toward them. “And somehow, all of you—with all the budget and connections I provide—still failed to bring her back.”

Nobody dared to utter a single word. Everyone in the underworld knew one thing with absolute clarity: Adrian Vale was not a patient man. And when he lost his temper, lives vanished.

Slowly, Adrian walked toward his massive mahogany desk. Several high-resolution photographs of Elena were scattered across the surface. In those pictures, she was smiling. Laughing. Looking utterly happy and unbroken.

A dangerous, dark look swirled in Adrian’s eyes as his long fingers gently traced the edge of one of the photographs.

“You should have just listened to me, Elena,” he murmured quietly to the empty room.

At first, everything between them had been flawless. At least, that was what Elena had believed. Adrian had showered her with absolute luxury. Million-dollar gifts. Undivided attention. But slowly, as threats from his black-market rivals grew closer, that affection morphed into a suffocating cage of psychological control.

He decided who she could speak to. What she could wear. Where she could go. He monitored her every breath to ensure his enemies couldn't use her as leverage. And whenever Elena tried to fight back, desperate for freedom, his temper only flared out of pure, desperate obsession.

A cold silence filled the penthouse once more before the lead investigator carefully stepped forward, holding a tablet. “Sir... we did manage to find a solid lead an hour ago.”

Adrian’s sharp eyes slowly shifted toward him. “Speak.”

“The girl was last spotted by an informant near a motorcycle club hub called Hell’s Throttle.”

The atmosphere inside the penthouse instantly shifted, turning volatile.

Hell’s Throttle.

Adrian’s expression darkened into something lethal. In this part of the country, there was only one family name connected to that specific establishment strongly enough to pose a real threat to his operations.

“...Ryder Kane.”

The room felt degrees colder after that notorious name was spoken aloud.

The investigator hesitated before continuing in a low voice. “There are heavy rumors in the underground that she might be hiding somewhere deep within his personal property. Possibly the Kane family mansion.”

Silence stretched. Then suddenly—Adrian laughed softly. It wasn't an amused sound; it was a dark, chilling chuckle that echoed off the high ceiling.

“So that’s where you ran to, my clever girl...” His eyes slowly lowered back toward Elena’s photograph. Interesting. Very interesting. She had jumped straight out of his gilded cage and landed right into the territory of a wolf.

One of his men stepped forward. “Should we prepare an extraction team and raid the perimeter, sir? Or should we leave this alone for now?”

For a long moment, Adrian stayed silent, his mind calculating a hundred moves ahead. Then slowly, a faint, chilling smirk appeared across his face.

“Let her enjoy her little taste of freedom for now,” he replied calmly, leaning his hands on the desk.

The men exchanged uneasy looks, surprised by his restraint.

Adrian lowered his eyes back to the picture, his fingers brushing gently against her smiling face before continuing softly, “Sooner or later...” His grip around the paper tightened slightly, crumpling the edge. “We’ll bring her home.”

The terrifying thing about Adrian Vale wasn’t his explosive anger. It was how utterly calm and methodical he became when he wanted something back.

His smirk deepened into a razor-sharp smile. “No matter how far she runs... I’ll still find her.” His sharp eyes slowly darkened into obsidian. “Because Elena belongs to me. There’s no one who can replace her in my world.”

He straightened his posture, a cold resolve settling over him. “And I will ensure no one takes her away from me. Not even a Kane.”

Silence filled the room again as Adrian reached into his pocket and pulled out an encrypted burner phone.

The lead enforcer frowned slightly. “Sir?”

A dangerous, mocking smile slowly spread across Adrian’s face. “I think it’s time I personally introduced myself to Ryder Kane.”

Meanwhile...

Across the city, inside the smoke-filled private suite at Hell’s Throttle—

Ryder’s personal phone suddenly vibrated violently against the table. An unknown, encrypted number flashed on the screen.

Ryder’s expression immediately darkened. Slowly, deliberately, he picked up the device and pressed it to his ear.

“...Who the hell is this?” Ryder demanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous octave.

Silence stretched over the line for a few agonizing seconds.

Then—a low, smooth, and chillingly calm chuckle echoed softly from the speaker. Ryder’s eyes instantly hardened into lethal slits, his entire body locking into a defensive stance.

“Stay away from her, Kane.”

The voice on the other end sounded impossibly composed. Unbothered. Almost amused.

The atmosphere inside the room turned suffocatingly volatile. Ryder slowly stood up, his towering frame casting a massive shadow against the wall. “Who the f**k are you?” he spat out coldly.

Another quiet, mocking laugh rattled through the receiver, cutting through the static of the storm outside.

Then—

“Too late.”

Click.

The line disconnected instantly, leaving only the dull, empty drone of the dial tone.

Silence. Cold, heavy, and absolute.

For the first time, a flicker of genuine, dark unease crossed Ryder’s face. He slowly lowered the phone, his knuckles turning white.

Because somehow, against all odds—someone else knew exactly where Elena was hiding.

And the war had officially begun.

To Be Continued