I Begged Tough Bikers To Play My Sons To Save My Daughter From Him

The Tables Turn

Charles took a step back, his face paling as he looked up at the towering biker. The arrogance that usually defined his posture withered under Brody's intense glare. Still, Charles tried to weaponize his wealth and status, straightening his silk tie to regain his footing.

"Do you have any idea who I am?" Charles hissed, his voice tight. "I am a senior partner at the city's largest law firm. You are interfering with a legal custody service. Stand aside, or I will have the police here in five minutes."

Brody didn't flinch. Instead, he looked down at the manila envelope in Charles's hand, snatched it with lightning speed, and tore it in half, throwing the pieces onto the sticky diner table.

"I don't care if you're the governor," Brody rumbled. "You don't come into our house and threaten our mom. And as for the police... please, call them. We'd love to show them what we've been recording."

Brody pointed a thick, tattooed finger toward the podcast equipment on the table. The red recording light was glowing steadily. Charles's eyes widened in horror. He hadn't noticed the professional setup, nor did he realize that the microphone had captured his threats, his arrogance, and his admission of intimidation.

"You think a recording of a custody dispute matters?" Charles sneered, trying to mask his rising panic. "She has nothing. She has no family, no home of her own, and no way to support Lily. The court will see she is an unfit mother!"

That was when Brody let out a low, booming laugh. He leaned in close to Charles, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that made the lawyer shudder.

"That's where you're wrong, counselor," Brody said. "She's got us. And you're about to find out exactly how far a family will go to protect their own."