The Betrayed Mechanic Is A Secret Boss

I spent three years hiding my true identity to build my boyfriend Colin's motorcycle empire from the ground up.

But one night, he walked into our garage holding another woman in his arms, demanding I give up my bedroom because she was pregnant with his family's bloodline.

He kicked aside my tools and ordered me to be her nursemaid.

"If you can't show basic loyalty, you have one night to clear out," he told me coldly.

When I refused and packed my bags, he froze my bank accounts and laughed, claiming I'd crawl back to him once I was starving on the streets.

He didn't even notice the sharp metal shelf tearing my back open as his new woman smirked at my bleeding departure.

I had clipped my own wings to play the obedient mechanic for a man who recycled street garbage and thought he owned me.

I was disgusted with myself for playing this pathetic game for so long, sacrificing my pride for a man who couldn't even read the code I wrote for him.

So, I threw his gang's colors into a drum of waste oil and permanently deleted the million-dollar software he was about to pitch to investors.

Then, I pulled out my encrypted phone and called the President of the city's most dangerous rival biker club.

It was time to show them what happens when you cross the Global Chief of the Nocturne Syndicate.