Page 7 of Biker Bride (Hell on Heelz MC)

“And what happens when this little charade is over?”

“You walk away with a hefty payout and no strings attached,” he said simply. “No one will bother you. You’ll be protected. You’ll be free to go back to your life.”

I mulled over his words, weighing my options. It sounded too good to be true. The allure of money, sure, but it was the thrill of the unknown that was hardest to resist. “How much?”

Vince shrugged. “A million.”

“Fuck, that’ll barely buy a house these days.”

“Okay, a million and a house of your choice.”

I gulped. “What if I want a house worth ten million?”

“We pull this off, the sky’s the limit.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then it’s your loss. I’ll find someone else. But I think you’ll say yes.”

My frustration was boiling over. I wanted to say yes, to be reckless and jump in feet first without looking or thinking, but Vince being so sure of it was fucking it all up. Stealing all my fun. “You’re awfully sure of yourself, Big Balls.”

Vince flashed a smile, a slow, confident grin that made my blood simmer.

We drove the rest of the way in silence, as I thought of everything a million dollars would buy. As we neared his house, I tried to psych myself up for what was about to happen. I wasn’t about to let my guard down, but I couldn’t deny the rush hitting me. And if Vince thought he could outsmart me, he was in for a big surprise.

The car rolled to a stop in front of a very large, modern house overlooking Lake George. The water was still, reflecting the moonlight perfectly. Vince stepped out and casually went around to open my door, his moves all smooth and deliberate.

“Welcome to my home,” he said, offering me his hand. I ignored it, stepping out of the car on my own. He didn’t seem fazed, just smiled and led the way to the oversized front door.

“What kind of company are you expecting, an elephant?”

“I didn’t design the house. I just built it when I bought these eighty acres.”

“That’s a big plot. Why do you need so much?” Maybe he had a lot of dead bodies to bury. Suddenly I started thinking of serial killers. Weren’t they handsome and charming?

“For one thing, I needed room for a helipad.”

“I’ve stolen a guy’s car before but never a helicopter,” I remarked as he punched in a code that opened the door and turned all the lights on.

“I’m not worried. The pilot has the keys on him.”

I followed him inside, my eyes scanning the surroundings, taking in the luxurious decor and the strategic placement of windows and doors. I needed to know every exit, every possible escape route.

The place was massive, with an open floor plan that cried money and taste. The floors were polished marble, gleaming under the soft, recessed lighting. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered an unobstructed view of the lake that glowed under the full moon.

The living room was modern with cool furniture in neutral colors. There was this huge couch in the middle of the room, with a fancy wood table that resembled something from a museum. The fireplace had a massive flat-screen TV on the wall. I’m not talking eighty inches, more like one twenty. It was insane.

On the right, the kitchen was like a chef's dream, all stainless steel and granite. The island in the center was big enough to host an army, and the appliances were gleaming. Thekitchen looked straight out of a cooking show, not a mobster's house.

In the dining area next to the kitchen, there was a long, elegant table with high-backed chairs. I spied a chandelier I could hang from. Yeah, I kinda felt out of place. This was a far cry from the Roost.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Vince said, gesturing to the living room. “I’ll get us something to drink.”

I nodded, but I didn’t sit. Instead, I wandered around the room, my fingers brushing over the expensive furniture and artwork.

Vince returned with two glasses of whiskey, handing one to me. “To new beginnings,” he said, raising his glass.

I clinked mine against his, the sound sharp and clear in the quiet room. “To whatever the hell this is,” I muttered before taking a sip.

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