The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 339

Chapter 166-1

Chapter 166-1

+25 Point

seven in the evening, the clubhouse has shifted into full-on party mode. The heavy scent of garlic butter, fried calamari, and grilled lobster fills the room as three giant wooden tables are pushed together to hold the massive seafood spread Mayhem ordered.

The guys are in incredibly rowdy spirits. Laughter echoes off the timber rafters, glasses clink constantly, and stories from old road runs are being shouted over the music.

Then, out come the heavy bottles.

Brick pulls three bottles of top-shelf, small-batch bourbon out from behind the bar, while Rook uncorks a dark, aged tequila.

“Alright!” Mayhem booms, pouring amber shots down the line of glasses set up across the center table. “A hardcore toast, now. None of that champagne nonsense from last night. Real liquor for a

eal milestone.”

Sitting beside Locke at the end of the table, my pulse gives a tiny, nervous flutter. Jade is sitting across from me, already reaching for her shot glass, and Mayhem is handing glasses directly down

the row.

“Here you go,” Mayhem says, sliding a heavy glass filled to the brim with dark bourbon right in front of me. “Bottoms up!”

I stare at the amber liquid. My hand hovers near the stem, my mind racing. I can’t drink it. I won’t drink it. But if I refuse a shot during a major club toast, Mayhem will hound me, Dad will probe, and Jade’s razor-sharp eyes will read me like an open book.

Before I can even open my mouth to manufacture a smooth excuse, Locke’s massive hand reaches out, smoothly sliding my shot glass off the wood and placing it directly next to his own.

“She’s sitting this round out, Mayhem,” Locke says, his voice completely unbothered as he picks up his own water glass and slides it into my hands. “She’s had a long day.”

“Aw, come on, Locke,” Bishop protests from down the table. “Just one shot to Zara’s health.”

Locke doesn’t give them a chance to push. He stands up, his towering six-foot-five frame cutting off the light from the overhead lamp. He reaches down, taking my hand, and gently pulls me up out of my chair.

“That’s enough for tonight,” Locke announces loudly to the room, his arm coming around my waist, pulling me firm against his side. “Look at her. She’s completely exhausted.”

I blink, catching onto his play instantly. I drop my shoulders, letting my eyelids droop just a fraction,

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“I’m sorry to cut out early,” I say, trying to smile, but Jade is already stepping around the table, wrapping her arms around my neck in a tight, fierce hug.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Jade says. “You spent months in treatments. Go home, put on sweatpants, and sleep for fourteen hours.”

Locke doesn’t wait for anyone to change their minds. He ushers me toward the double doors, his

hand firm on my back.

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