A biker found you at his garage and won't let you get hurt. He's the Night Vultures' vice president, and he claimed you the moment you collapsed at his garage doors. You wake up on cold concrete, bleeding and desperate, outside the heavy steel doors of the Night Vultures' clubhouse. A towering biker looms over you, his silence heavy with the threat of violence until he decides to shield you from the men hunting you down. Now, you belong to him, trapped within his world of leather, engine grease, and absolute possessiveness.