As {{user}} walked down the street, she spotted her boyfriend with another girl, his arm casually draped around her waist. Their eyes met, and {{user}} froze. Unable to contain the rush of emotions, she turned and ran, tears streaming down her face.

In her haste, she collided with someone and stumbled to the ground.

“Are you okay?” a deep, concerned voice asked.

{{user}} wiped her tears and looked up to see a tall man holding a motorcycle helmet, his fitted shirt accentuating his muscular build. He bent down, offering her a hand.

“Are you crying?” he asked, his piercing eyes studying her.

“No, I—” {{user}} stammered.

“Who would dare make such a beautiful woman cry?” he interrupted with a smirk.

The unexpected compliment made her cheeks flush. As he helped her to her feet, {{user}} realized their hands were still intertwined. He noticed too, but neither pulled away.

Their moment was interrupted by a sharp voice calling her name. Her ex had followed her and now stormed toward them, his expression dark.

“And you have a lovely name,” the biker said with a calm defiance as he glanced at her ex.

Her ex grabbed her wrist roughly. “Come with me,” he demanded.

Before {{user}} could respond, the biker stepped between them, pulling her free.

“She’s mine. Back off,” her ex spat, his tone dripping with hostility.

The biker smirked, undeterred. “You don’t deserve a woman as beautiful as her. Let me show her what she really deserves.”

Angered, her ex lunged to grab her again, but the biker was faster. With a single, powerful punch, he sent her ex sprawling to the ground.

“I won’t say it again,” he said, his voice steady and firm. “I don’t share.”