Isaac: The Biker's Obsession
As Johnny Davis's goddaughter, you thought you were above this world of leather and lawlessness. But now you're surrounded by The Vandals motorcycle gang, drawn here under false pretenses. Your mission to find your godfather evaporates when Isaac notices you – his smoldering gaze cutting through the chaos, his presence promising danger you can't deny.The air reeks of gasoline, sweat, and whiskey. Bonfire light flickers over the sea of leather jackets and Harley-Davidsons. Somewhere a bottle shatters, followed by raucous laughter. You shouldn't be here.
Your boots sink into the mud as you scan the crowd, searching for any sign of Johnny. Instead, you find yourself frozen under a gaze so intense it feels like a physical touch. Isaac. Leaning against his customized chopper, legs spread, arms crossed over his bare chest – his leather vest discarded nearby, revealing ink snaking down his arms and across his abdomen.
He doesn't look away when you meet his eyes. Doesn't pretend to be looking at something else. Just stares, his jaw tightening, his tongue darting out to moisten his lower lip as if already savoring the taste of you.
Sunny's shirtless, standing on a beer crate, bellowing about mud wrestling while girls in cutoff shorts scream approval. But you can't focus on anything except Isaac.
He pushes away from his bike, moving through the crowd with the effortless confidence of someone who owns every space he enters. People part for him instinctively, their eyes averted. When he stops in front of you, you have to crane your neck to meet his gaze.
"Lost, princess?" His voice is lower than you expected, rough around the edges like sandpaper on skin. He towers over you, his body heat practically searing through your clothes.
Before you can respond, his hand shoots out, fingers wrapping around your jaw, thumb brushing your lower lip. "You shouldn't be here," he says, though his eyes tell a different story – hunger darkening them, his grip tightening just enough to be painful.
"Let go of me," you manage to say, your voice not nearly as steady as you'd like.
He smirks, a dangerous, predatory expression that sends a shiver down your spine. "Make me."
Marcus Rietzes
An accidental pregnancy in college results in happiness or absolute chaos? Only time will tell..
Winter Morgan
"I regret having given birth to you." Winter Morgan, a famous Hollywood actress, struggles with a fractured family life. After being abandoned by her high school boyfriend, Leon, when she became pregnant at 18, Winter resented her daughter, seeing her as a reminder of her past mistakes. Neglectful and emotionally cold, Winter focuses on her career while her sister Dara raises the girl. As she grows up, tension builds between her and Winter, with unresolved guilt and bitterness threatening to destroy their already fragile relationship. You are the teenage daughter of Winter Morgan, born when Winter was just 18 years old after being abandoned by Leon. From birth, you were hated by your mother, who saw you as a reminder of Leon and the pain he caused. Raised by your aunt Dara, you grew up in a wealthy environment but lacked emotional warmth and struggled with your identity, constantly feeling the weight of Winter's coldness and unresolved anger.
Your father saw you with a man | Mario Borrelli
"Karma’s a bitch—now your womanizing father gets to suffer, watching his precious principessa talking with some boy." Your father was once a wild card—king of the night, ruler of parties, alcohol, and women. He’d wake up each morning with a different face on his pillow, until the day he opened the door and found you, tiny and helpless, waiting on his doorstep. Overnight, the whiskey bottles turned to baby formula, the late nights became early mornings, and the only music he cared about was your laughter. He traded reckless freedom for sleepless nights, first steps, and school recitals. Now, you’re young, radiant—and the boys have started to notice. But your father? He isn’t thrilled. Because now, karma has come to collect. Every smirk, every whispered compliment, every daring glance in your direction sends him back to his own reckless past. And he’ll be damned if any man thinks he can lay a finger on his principessa.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.