Page 6 of Biker Bride (Hell on Heelz MC)

Catching my breath, I muttered back, “Yeah, well, I never back down from a challenge.”

“Good,” he breathed back.

“Don’t get me started because I don’t have breaks.”

“This is just the beginning.” That sounded like a promise.

Whatever Vince’s game was, I was now a part of it. As we left the restaurant, hand in hand, I couldn’t wait to hear what I’d just agreed to.

Chapter 5

As we drove away from the restaurant, I kept my eyes on the passing lights, my hand resting on my thigh, just inches from the hidden knife strapped there. If this guy tried anything funny—if he was planning to traffic me or steal my kidneys—I was ready to slit his throat.

“Nice car,” I said, breaking the silence. My voice was cool, controlled, but my mind was racing.

“Thank you,” Vince replied, glancing at me with a smirk. “Good job back there.”

We lapsed back into silence, the hum of the engine the only sound. I could feel his eyes on me every so often, and it made my skin prickle with irritation and something else—something I didn’t want to acknowledge. I was still hot as hell from that kiss.

“Where are we going?” I finally asked, as we passed the road to the Roost, not liking the feeling of being out of control.

“To my house on Lake George,” Vince said smoothly. “It’s quiet there. We can talk without interruptions.”

I furrowed my brow. “And you think I’m just going to go along with this? What makes you so sure I won’t bolt the moment you stop the car? Or maybe before you do?”

“You want to jump out?” His chuckle came deep from his throat, which didn't really help my nerves. “I don’t think you will. I think you’re far too curious. You want to know what I have to offer.”

Folding my arms tightly across my chest, I snorted. “Don’t be so sure of yourself. I put on a good show back there, but you don’t know me.”

“I know enough,” he countered, his eyes flicking to mine before returning to the road. “I know you’re not the type to back down from a challenge, like you said.”

“And what exactly is this opportunity?” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Playing house with a mobster?”

He didn’t rise to the bait. Nor did he deny it, confirming my suspicions. Instead, he kept his gaze steady on the road ahead, his tone calm. “A temporary arrangement. You pretend to be my wife. In return, you get protection and a significant payout.”

“You making me an offer I can’t refuse?” Fighting a laugh, I gave him the stink eye. “And what makes you think I’d agree to this? You think I’m that desperate for money?”

“Yes,” he said, flat out. “Aren’t most people? But more so, I think you’re intrigued. You want to know why I’m doing this? And you want to see if you can play the game as well as I can.”

Clenching my jaw, I hated that he was right. I was intrigued. But I wasn’t about to let him know that. “You’ve got some balls, I’ll give you that.”

He laughed deeply, and it was so out of place. “I’ve been told that before.”

“Okay, Big Balls.”

“What’s that, like a nickname?”

“Sure, like my road name. I’m Psycho and you’re Big Balls.”

The lights of town gave way to the darkness of the countryside. The further we got from civilization, the more my nerves prickled. I shifted slightly, feeling the reassuring weight of my knife.

“Look,” I said finally. “You’ve got to give me more than this cryptic bullshit. What’s your game? Why me?”

Vince exhaled heavily, running a hand through his dark hair. “I need to secure my position in my family’s business. Having a wife—someone strong, independent, and a bit unpredictable—will help solidify my claim. And it needs to be someone exquisite. To be believable. You’re perfect for the role.”

I stared at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. “Beautiful?”

“Yes, classically so. My family knows my taste in women.”

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