Page 23 of Biker Bride (Hell on Heelz MC)

I plastered on a bright smile, hiding my shock. "Victoria Blackwell? Yeah, I remember her. She was quite the character."

Claire laughed, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Yeah, Vince had posters of her in his room. It's hilarious to think about now."

I turned my attention back to my food, my head about to explode. Vince knew all along. He knew who I really was, even if he didn't know the full story. All this time, I thought he was being distant because he'd found out I was crazy, but it turned out he had some secrets of his own.

I glanced at Vince, who finally looked up, meeting my eyes. There was a flicker of something in his gaze—guilt, maybe? Or regret? Either way, he had some explaining to do.

I smiled sweetly at him, feeling the weight of this new information. "Small world, huh?" I said, my voice light and airy.

Vince forced a smile, but his eyes couldn't hide the tension. "Yeah, small world."

The rest of brunch passed in a blur, the idle chatter and clinking of silverware a background noise to the whirlwind of thoughts in my head. Vince had known about my past, and he'd kept it from me. As we finished eating, I leaned back in my chair, trying to process everything.

"Excuse me," I said, standing up. "I need some air."

As I stepped outside, the cool breeze hit my face, completely different from the heat simmering inside me. I paced the garden, my mind replaying the conversation over and over. Vince had some serious explaining to do, and I wasn't going to let him off the hook.

Chapter 16

I stayed in the garden, trying to escape the suffocating atmosphere of Vince's family. I could still hear Melissa's snide remarks and Claire's condescending tone echoing in my mind. I needed a break, some air to clear my head. But then I felt his presence behind me, his footsteps soft but unmistakable. I turned around, and there he was—Vince, in his suit, looking at me with those intense, blue eyes.

"Sybil," he uttered, his voice hoarse.

Before I could react, he grabbed me, his lips crashing onto mine. His kiss was desperate, almost punishing. For a moment, I melted into him, feeling the heat between us, but then I remembered everything. I pulled away, pushing him back.

"What the hell, Vince?" I spat, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "What are you doing?"

He didn't answer, just grabbed my wrist and pulled me deeper into the garden, towards the labyrinth. I labored to resist, but he was too strong, his grip like iron. We entered the maze, the tall hedges towering over us. My heart beat in my chest, with a blend of fury and something else—something I didn't want to admit.

"Let me go," I demanded, yanking my arm, but he held on tighter.

Finally, he stopped, turning to face me. His eyes were wild, his chest heaving. "I can't," he growled. "I've tried to stay away from you, but I can't."

I glared at him, my pulse racing. "Why? What's changed?"

His expression softened, and he stepped closer. "I knew about your past, Sybil. I knew who you were before you told me. And when you finally confessed, I didn't know how to handle it. I was falling for you, and it terrified me.

I stared at him, shock and confusion battling inside me. "Falling for me? Vince, this was supposed to be an act. A business arrangement."

"I know," he admitted, his voice pained. "But somewhere along the way, it became real for me. And that's not what you signed up for."

Anger flared in me, and I took a step back. "So you decided to pull away? Treat me like a stranger? You think that makes it better?"

With a clamped jaw, he wagged his head. "I thought it would make things easier, but it didn't. It just made everything worse."

We stood there, the silence growing. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Why did you bring other women here, Vince? Was it just to make Melissa jealous?"

He hesitated, his eyes flickering with something I couldn't read. "Yes," he admitted. "But it's different with you. This is different."

"Different how?" I demanded, my voice rising. "Why did they leave, Vince? What happened to them?"

He shook his head, his expression guarded. "Let's not talk about that."

"No," I insisted, stepping closer, putting my hands on his chest. I felt his heart thumping under my fingers. "I want to know. What happened to them?"

His eyes hardened, and he grabbed my shoulders, pulling me against him. "They couldn't handle it," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "They couldn't handle me. But you... you're different. You can."

Before I could respond, he kissed me again, his lips demanding, and I couldn't help but reply in kind. The anger and confusion melted away, replaced by a fierce desire. We stumbled deeper into the labyrinth, our hands tearing at each other's clothes, the urgency between us escalating.

---