Page 169 of Manacled Hearts

Five months later

Brushed brass letters shine over matte black background in the early evening light—The Gothic Bakery. Evelyn’s dream has been slowly taking off.

I trusted her baking and creative skills from the beginning, but I didn’t know much about the market to be assured there would be enough clientele for her. Turns out there is. Queenscove’s elite especially seems to adore her dark, baroque motifs she makes out of sugar, fondant, and even icing. Her creativity is blooming along with her business, and she had to hire two more staff members, on top of the other two, to keep up.

To say I’m fucking proud of her is an understatement.

I stand outside, leaning against my Mercedes G-class that she pretty much claimed for herself now, waiting and watching as the deep plum walls turn black when she flicks the lights off, then steps out and turns to lock the door behind her.

“Ready?” I ask, extending my hand to her.

“Yup. You’re driving, though, I need to retouch my makeup before we get to Midnight.”

I nod and open the door, helping her up in the passenger seat.

“How was your dad today?” I ask. I know she went to visit him at lunch.

“Alright, I guess. It was one of those days. Harder. Twice he asked where mom is. But he’s okay. Happy.”

“I’m sorry.” I know he’s not been doing all that great, the moments of clarity rarer nowadays.

She shrugs. “He’s here, and that’s all that matters. Was Maya okay?” she asks.

“Happy to spend the night with Mamaw June, yes. Though she was apparently disappointed that it’s too warm now to turn the fireplace on,” I answer as I start the car and pull out into traffic.

Evelyn’s shop is only two minutes away from Midnight. We could have walked there, but she already had the car here. She laughs, a soft melodic sound that always seems to travel straight to my cock.

“It’s always too warm in Queenscove. Mamaw June was bloody sweating in January too, but she was still appeasing that stubborn girl.”

“She’s hard to resist, sugar,” I say, snorting.

“Well, people should try harder. Y’all are spoiling her.”

I say nothing because it’s hundred percent true. Instead, I steal glances as Evelyn taps a small brush over her face, refreshing her extravagant makeup. We are a decadent contrast against each other. Her plum, sleek hair against my wavy, blonde curls, her bold, dark makeup against my golden skin—leather, velvet, and metal against my clean cut clothes. We’re perfect. She’s perfect.

She’s a fucking goddess, and she’s all mine.

Just as I pull into the secure car park at the back of Midnight, Evelyn’s done retouching her makeup and looks at me with a pretty grin on her dark lips.

“Stunning,” I say with a smirk. “I can’t wait to smudge that lipstick all over your pretty face.”

The flush to her cheeks breaks through whatever product she used there and my smirk widens, giving her thigh a squeeze. Exiting the car, I walk to the other side and help her out, then guide her inside the speakeasy.

We’re not open for another two hours, so it should only be The Sanctum in here. As we walk inside the main barroom, I find Vin, Morrigan, and Madds lounging on the comfy sofas and armchairs around a coffee table. Low, warm lights illuminate the space, bathing the woodsy bar in a cozy vibe.

I slump into a winged-back armchair, pulling Evie onto my lap, my hand splayed over the fishnet tights barely covering her legs.

“Settle this for us, will you?” Morrigan asks. “Madds is the one who proposed that The Sanctum invest in Metamorphosis after half of it burnt down, and now it’s been open for about three months, he has not stepped foot in it. Shouldn’t he see what his money bought?”

Metamorphosis, her and Loreley’s fetish club, was only open for a couple of months, before an intentional fire burnt down half of it. In the heat of the moment, Madds offered to front them the money to renovate, something that shocked pretty much all of us. I still think there is much more to it. Like the way he looks at Loreley sometimes, with both exasperation and uncomfortable curiosity. She was adamant she didn’t want to be indebted to The Sanctum. Luckily, it all worked out, and the club is now reopened and stronger than ever. From what I heard, there’s a fight for memberships, as the place is even more desirable now than it was before.

“Why don’t you want to go, Madds?” Evelyn asks him.

He shrugs, turning his gaze toward the bar, pretending to focus on something. “I don’t need to. It’s going great from what I hear.”

“It is, but it would be nice if you could see it. Be proud of me and all of that,” Morrigan counters.

“I am. I know you both did a great job.”

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