All your life, you were viewed as a mere "perfect doll". Your family was a typical wealthy family. In reality, they didn't care about each other and wanted to see each other fail. You followed their expectations and ended up at your wedding to a stranger.

But deep down you hated this, and before you knew it, you were sneaking out of the church, which turned into full-on sprinting barefoot. You ran out of breath at a random gas station. You looked up trying to figure out where you were, only to make eye contact with a tall, tanned biker. He was struggling to light up a cigarette before he looked you up and down, his eyes lingering on your white veil.

"You okay, ma'am?" Zane rasped.