The Banker Biker (18+)

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**18+ Mature Sexual Content** Ride or Die Biker Book #2 What's the purpose of life? That was the question that was haunting me. I grew up with a loving family and a fuck ton of ambition. I started working on Wall Street as an Investment Banker by the time I turned 23. So how do I go from a big roller to a Biker Club 7 years later? Among other things...there was this woman...and her connection to my past truly shows me that the world works in mysterious ways...

Romance / Action
J. Writing
4.8 8 reviews
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

A/N: This is MATURE 18+ Text. It is the second book of the Ride or Die Series following "The Dark Rider"; however it can be read as a standalone as the stories are separate and there are no spoilers in regards to book #1. In addition, it's the first book I am writing predominately written from a male POV, but of course, I have to include my signature female protagonist ;). Enjoy xoxo


"For fuck's sake!" I slam my fist on the desk of my office. Another corporate douchebag trying to swindle our bank out of millions of dollars. These fuckers think they can rule the world because they have money. Well so be it because so do I. I've been working at the top Wall Street bank since I graduated when I was almost 23 years old, and have been here for almost a decade - enough to ensure I make enough money to never let a piece of shit dictate what I do -- client or not.

I rein in my anger and think of a strategic plan to handle the M&A (Mergers & Acquisitions) that could earn me another $20 million in bonus money if it goes to plan and if this pesky little shit of a client on the other side stops being a thorn in my side.

I smile internally, already formulating a plan, licking my lips at the anticipation as it forms -- knowing I'm about to royally fuck him, hard.

I draft up the documents before sending my secretary off to deliver them to the team. It's late. 10PM. Time to go home after this exhausting day.

I grab my suit jacket from the closet and head out. Deciding to walk today instead of taking the corporate car. I take a detour, needing the extra time to ease my mind. It's Friday night and I spot a liquor store on my way, heading over to grab a bottle to ease away my stress when I hear some muffled screaming in the distance.

I turn quickly and see a homeless guy getting beat up by 6 thugs. Fuck. I realize too late that I'm in the wrong part of town. But I cannot walk away. No time like the present to test out those boxing classes I've been taking... I think to myself

I rush over. "Six guys against one? Do you pussies go get your hair and nails done together too?"

One of the guys -- who I'm assuming is their leader, smirks. "Walk along Suit. Wouldn't want to get blood on that pretty outfit of yours".

I smile back as I walk over to him and immediately swing a fist to his face. Total knockout bitch. Before I realize what is happening, the rest of the guys jump me, but my anger at the situation, and my already pissed off state at my deal at work earlier today has my blood boiling. One-two punch, kick, chokehold, blood oozing out of my knuckles before I stop and realize what I've done. Shit. I was a monster.

I look at the older guy in the corner and offer my hand to help him up.

"T-Thank you"

I nod, getting ready to walk away before he grips my arm.

"Wait", he stammers out while I raise my brow at him.

"I need to repay you".

I shake my head no, but he continues. "You don't know who I am and where I come from, but I can guarantee you that one day the time will come when I can repay you. Please."

I look at him a bit perplexed...odd that he would say something like that. I ponder, but reach into my wallet for a $50 and my business card. He could technically report me for beating these thugs up, but I highly doubt it, and he has no proof. I hand over the money and the card.

I nod and turn to walk before he shouts again, "Michael. Trust me when I say; I'll be good on my word of paying you back. Thank you"

"It's Mick" I state, giving a slight nod of the head in response before I turn to head to the liquor more than ever I realize that I really need that fucking drink.


I wake up with the blinding lights shooting through my penthouse window, before I remember the events of last night, and easily feel the strong hangover I have from drinking an entire bottle of hell. Pain in my hands feel like I've put them through the shredder as I look down and see dried blood on my knuckles.

What a fucking week. I get out of bed to take a quick shower and eat breakfast before deciding to head to the gym to work out -- skipping my boxing class for now given the state of my hands.

I step out of the lobby before my doorman stops me. "Mr. Ellington. You have a guest waiting for you in the common area"

I turn and see a grizzly looking figure that looks totally out of place with his tattoos and mc cut on, leaning on a chair worth as much as his motorcycle, I assume.

I walk over and he stands up with his hand outstretched. "The name's Vick. I have a proposition for you"

I glance around before turning again, "Are you sure you have the right guy?" I ask, before he responds.

"You're the same guy that took down six motherfuckers last night in the alley are you not?"

I stiffen - wondering where this is going before he speaks up, "I want you to train with us. You fight like a beast and I've never seen anything like it. Was frankly surprised when a Suit throws a punch like that and my mc could use your skillset"

I think...before I decide to bite and see where this takes us. "Why would I do that?"

Vick takes a look, before responding, "Two reasons. One - you don't have to be involved in any extra club shit if you don't want. We'll just be happy you're training us. And Two - given your background after a little snooping around, we'll give you our club money to manage at your bank. Can't tell me Wall Street vamps don't like extra money to play with and I'm sure your boss will be thrilled with a few million dollars of clean money - hard cash - coming your way."

I smile inside...clean is anything I would describe what an mc does. But, his proposition gives me another idea. I want to manage their money myself and escape this hell hole of a job. Fifteen-hour workdays for almost a decade of my life is enough and starting my own asset management company, being my own boss, could be much easier when I already have a few million in the piggy bank.

I look at him, extending my hand to shake his-- "You have a deal Vick. Although, I have no proper training. Just a few boxing classes and gym time so you may be barking up the wrong tree"

Vick looks up with a smirk on his face before responding, "With how fucked up you left those assholes and that rage I saw in your eyes last night, you're going to be a fucking natural"

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