Snake’s eyes hardened at Emma’s words, the revelation striking a chord deep within him. His rough exterior belied a set of principles and a code that he and his fellow bikers lived by—protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves, especially from abuse of power. The room, already steeped in tension, became electrified with a new resolve.
The Iron Wolves MC had a reputation, one forged on the fires of loyalty and justice, albeit their own brand of it. Snake stood, towering over the tiny girl, and addressed his brothers. “Alright, you heard Emma. Gear up. We’re riding out.”
