Someone calls out, “To Hades!”
Hades rubs the small of my back. “Welcome to the Underworld.”
Cheers and more well-wishes follow suit, all while I try not to be affected by his touch.
The music comes back on, and the party seems to get wilder, as we watch from the throne. We stay like this until my bottom aches.
“Can we leave now?”
He nods, motioning for me to stand. There’s a round of rowdy catcalls that leaves my face burning. They clearly have ideas as to what they think is about to happen.
Hades leads me up the stairway to the end of the hall. He unlocks the door and steps aside so I can enter. The room is large and spacious, and even has a mini kitchen. When the door closes, I realize the room must also be soundproof. Smoke doesn’t linger in the air here, and the space is clean. His large bed is even made, with decorative pillows atop it. Did he do this for me?
Before I can ask, he points to a door.
“That’s the bathroom. Closet is over there.”
I cross the room to the closet. Inside, his clothes hang on one side and mine on the other, like we’re a real couple that’s lived together for a while. My fiancé and I don’t even share a closet. I let out a small laugh. Since I’m married, I guess that makes him my ex-fiancé…
I touch one of the shirts. Each item in here is something I’d wear in my day-to-day life.
“How long have you been planning this?”
He’s leaning against the doorframe. “A while. I thought your old man would’ve told you by now.”
“Maybe he thought you weren’t serious.”
He moves into the closet, which seemed so spacious moments ago.
“I’m a man of my word.”
I don’t doubt that. Suddenly he’s too close.
Swallowing, I say, “Whatever. Just go. I’d like to change and go to sleep.”
He starts to say something, but shakes his head. “Fine. Don’t leave this room, Princess. Not unless I’m with you.”
“Afraid I’ll run?”
“More worried what the groupies will do if they catch you alone. I mean it. This isn’t a movie set, and these people aren’t paid to be around you.”
His words sting, but he’s not wrong. My agent pays people to be around me, to feed into my all-American girl persona. Hard to be America’s darling when your anxiety makes it impossible to be around large groups of people.
“Just go.”
And, to my dismay, he does.
5
Hades doesn’t come back until the next day. I slept like crap, not knowing what to expect. Would he come for me? Would someone else try to get in? Was I even safe here? All things I don’t have answers to.
When he enters, his dark hair is wet, as if he’s showered. He wears faded jeans and a black t-shirt that do little to hide his muscular frame. He looks good, and I hate that I notice.
“Like what you see?”
I meet his gaze, finding a smirk on his lips.
“Just wondering how a thug can afford designer jeans.”
“Maybe I stole them.” He looks me up and down. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
I look down at the yellow sundress. It’s not designer, but it’s comfortable. “Yeah. Is there something wrong with it?”
“No.” He swallows. “Looks nice with your dark hair.”
I think he just paid me a compliment.
“Thank you.”
He motions for me to follow. “Come on. There’s something we need to do.”
The clubhouse is quiet right now, a stark contrast to how it was a few hours ago. The music stopped as the sun rose, and I was finally able to go to sleep. Hades leads me downstairs, to a locked door and takes me into his office.
“What are we doing?”
“Sit. We’re giving your father a call. A friendly reminder—you’re doing this to save his ass. Convince him that you’re okay with your choice.”
I nod my understanding, and he pulls a burner phone from the top drawer, dialing. Putting the call on speakerphone, he sets the phone between us.
“Hello? Kinsley?”
My voice cracks, but I pull myself together. “Dad. It’s me.”
“Honey, where are you? Are you okay?”
“Dad, I’m fine.”
“Tell me where you are. I’ll come and get you.”
Closing my eyes, I say, “I…I know what you did.”
His breath hitches. “I swear to god I’ll find a way out of this.”
“It’s okay, Dad. It’s only for six months. I’m fine. I promise.”
“I’ll make some calls. I’ll—”
Hades reaches over, taking the phone. “You’ll do what we agreed, Senator. You have forty-eight hours.”
He ends the call, tossing his phone onto the desk.
Gathering my courage, I say, “I need to call my fiancé.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I need the world to believe we’re madly in love. Calling that prick won’t do anything to help my cause. Besides, he probably won’t take your call after seeing this.”
He turns the laptop so I can see the screen. The top story on the gossip website is a photo of me and Hades on the motorcycle. My eyes are closed, and my cheek is against his back as we turn a corner. To the world, it appears I’m content. No one would ever guess that I was really terrified when the photo was snapped.
The headline says it all: Breaking News: Hollywood Royalty, Kinsley Hamilton, Marries Mystery Man in Secret Wedding. Details to Come.
When I look up, Hades is smiling.
“Now the world knows.”
6
Two months fly by in a blur as I settle into a new routine. It’s strange knowing no one misses me—well, no one except for my dad. But he’s upheld his end of the agreement with Hades, and the Feds are no longer looking into the club. I’ve also gotten a crash course at life in a motorcycle club. These people are crude and wild, saying and doing as they please. It’s pure chaos, but it’s also freeing. At the center is Hades, who’s truly like a god amongst them, where his word goes above all others. There’s only one man who holds more power than Hades, serving as the ruler of all of the clubs across the country, but he’s in Savannah and only intervenes as a last measure.
Hades comes into our room, as he does every morning. I’ve given up trying to figure out where he goes each night. There are plenty of women here who would share their bed with him, and they make sure to point it out when he’s not with me. Well, good riddance. Except, as much as I want to hate him I don’t. And the thought of him with another woman makes me want to hit something. Maybe even him.
“Morning, Princess.”
“Morning.” I put the book I’m reading aside. “Late night?”
I don’t miss the dark smudges under his eyes. He sits in the chair across from me, stretching his long legs with a sigh.
“Something like that. Had a run-in with another club.”
“Is that bad?”
“It’s not good. We took care of it. Just hope they got the message.”