My Mafia Brother’s Car Framed Me? Chapter 01

My Mafia Brother’s Car Framed Me? Chapter 01

The Iron Raven MC weekend pack clawed its way up a gravel incline in the Catskills.

Behind me, Hailey, the club’s only other female biker, pushed her heavy bike hard to catch up. She was riding an abnormally massive black adventure motorcycle.

Her front wheel wobbled violently on the loose gravel, smelling like burnt clutch and desperation.

“Vivienne, swap with me!” she screamed over the comms. “This brute’s too heavy. If I stall out again, I’m going down!”

I opened my mouth to reply when a cool, unfamiliar female voice cut through my helmet communicator.

Vivienne, don’t swap with her.

That bike was stolen from the Lucchesi family’s private garage. She dumped it last night. The steering stem is cracked, and the clutch and chain are shot.

She isn’t asking for help. She wants you to take the fall for wrecking the bike, and she wants you to crash on the descent.

My brows furrowed instantly. I shot a look back at Hailey.

Before patching into Iron Raven, she was just a small-time Queens accountant riding a clunking second-hand runner.

How could she suddenly pull up on such an expensive, custom machine?

The voice in the comms spoke up again.

Your boyfriend will catch up in a minute.

He’ll bring up the club orders and the Prez’s authority to force the swap. Once the bike breaks down completely, he’ll have the brothers testify that you destroyed it.

A bitter laugh almost escaped my throat.

My boyfriend, Theo Anderson, was the Prez of the Iron Raven MC’s New York chapter. Why would he conspire with Hailey to set me up?

Someone had to be hacking the frequency to pull a sick prank.

Seconds later, an engine roared behind us.

Theo pulled up beside us on his bike and motioned for me to slow down.

“Why haven’t you two swapped yet?” His voice sounded through the open channel. “The road captain took the main pack ahead. Keep stalling, and we’ll lose the formation.”

He turned to me, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Vivienne, swap bikes with Hailey. Now.”

His reasoning matched the warning down to the exact word.

My fingers froze on the clutch lever. The throttle I had just let off was now gripped tightly in my hand.

They wanted to use me as a scapegoat?

They probably never considered why Vivienne Vale—the girl they treated as a broke, part-time riding amateur—could spot a Lucchesi family crest with a single glance.

Tires chewed through gravel, transmitting engine vibrations directly up my spine.

Wind screamed past both sides of my visor. Grade, throttle, clutch, and balance fused into a razor-thin margin.

The closer I pushed toward the brink of losing control, the clearer my head became.

I loved backroad riding not just for the speed, but because out on these mountain tracks, every decision belonged solely to me.

I had hidden my identity and joined the Iron Raven MC under my mother’s maiden name, wanting to earn my colors through raw skill.

Yet in a club obsessed with hierarchy and background, I spent a whole year enduring prospect tests only to be dismissed as a girl playing biker.

The Iron Raven MC had only two full-patch female members. Hailey was the other one.

Right now, she stared at me eagerly, waiting for me to take over a bike ready to fail at any second.

“Not happening.”

I dropped two cold words, kicked down a gear, rolled on the throttle, and shot right past her.

The icy wind slammed into my helmet, sharpening my focus.

I had deliberately glanced at that black bike earlier. The logo was taped over with layers of duct tape, and the tank edges were caked in mud to make it look like a customized beat-up ride.

But I could never mistake the small obsidian raven emblem hidden beneath the handlebars, or the custom carbon-fiber weave under the seat.

That was my brother Damian Lucchesi’s absolute favorite custom motorcycle.

The only one of its kind in the world.

The final warnings from the communicator echoed in my head.

Theo and Hailey have been sleeping together for a long time.

Hailey is pregnant with his child. She snuck the bike out last night to show off. After crashing it, they decided to pin the blame on you.

“Vivienne, stop being so selfish!” Hailey screamed from behind, her voice cracked with desperation.

“I can’t handle this bike! You’re the best rider here—helping me through this section won’t kill you!”