Chapter 10

Mia

Since spending all of his money didn’t even make him flinch in the slightest, I knew I had to think of a different strategy. Surely, a man like him wouldn’t care about my small attempts at making him pay. If he and I were just an illusion of a marriage, then why even try? And I can’t stop thinking about the notes he keeps leaving on his pillow with his sweet words. It’s so confusing. Damn it, why does he have to be so…so kind all of a sudden? And why does his absence annoy me that much? Isn’t marriage supposed to be all smooth sailing? Ares and I are too different, this will never work.

Focus, Mia, focus.

I could still escape, find my way back to Kiara and save her from an arranged marriage as well. Chicago is an eight-hour drive away, which is way too long. I’d need to stop somewhere in between to find shelter. Indianapolis maybe? I do have some friends there. Acquaintances, I mean. Perhaps they could help me without telling my father. Not sure about that, not really sure I can trust anyone not to tell on my father or Ares. After all, they are the ones owning those cities. Indianapolis is right at the end of the Raven Sons territory, so technically safe.

Technically, because it’s owned by my father, and my face is quite recognizable there, but I’ll find a way. I can take a bit of cash with me and be untraceable, that’s a good idea. Then I’d find Kiara, explain the whole shebang to her and we would leave to, well, Canada? Mexico? Anywhere we wouldn’t have to be the little pawn of my father anymore.

I had been thinking about this for a week now. It’s impossible to escape during the day. The house is watched by the Raven Sons and I’m accompanied for each outing. So night it is. Only I know Ares sleeps with one eye open, just like any man in his position should. Since he’s getting home sooner lately, I won’t be able to pack a bag. Too obvious. I’ll just take what I’ve got on me and buy what I’ll need on the way. I’m a princess when I want but I don’t have issues with going full Tomb Raider as well. That’s a misconception about femininity, people always assume we’re dumb and superficial. They don’t see that just because you like cute things doesn’t mean you can’t live without them. They’re a plus, little cherries on the cake.

I look around the living room where I’ve set my work laptop after a video call with a client and sigh.

Gotta say it’s a pretty place.

I’ll miss it.

And maybe it’s not the only thing I will miss.

But there’s no point in staying. Ares and I are too different and I can’t live with a man who purposefully hurts me just to observe my reactions.

“Would you like some tea, Mrs Malone?” asks Maria, always so discreet and anticipating my needs.

“That would be great. Thank you, Maria.” I’m grateful for her kindness after I gave her the list of things I like to eat, which Ares asked me to write. I was really embarrassed to have to detail exactly how I wanted them to steam-cook the vegetables and remove as many carbs as possible but honestly, it’s a relief. Eating has been easier since. She disappears five minutes before coming back with a wood tray, green tea, coconut chia pudding, and an apple cut into a flower shape. I can tell the cook is trying really hard to do something with the small list I gave him. Never been in a place with such kind people.

I mean, they’re not all kind.

One of them is still getting under my skin.

But it soon will be over.

“Here,” Maria says before fidgeting in front of me. I’m sat in my work clothes, a tight turquoise dress with big golden loops on my ears and coral lipstick. It doesn’t really match the whole cabin vibe of the home but somehow I enjoy the contrast.

“Are you okay, Mrs Malone?” She joins her hands in front of her as if she’s truly worried.

Can she tell I’m about to escape tonight? Did I do anything to betray my plan?

“Yes, of course, just a bit tired,” I make up on the spot before watching her nod and move away. I drink my tea, listen to the latest pop songs I’ve downloaded, and then head to the bathroom to take a shower. It’s been a long day of video calls with clients and so much online shopping for them that my eyes are sore from watching screens all day. Between going out with Shadows and Ash for my matcha latte and talking to my clients, my social cup is full. I let the hot water ripple on me. Burning, just how I like it. Just enough to make my skin tingle, making it barely tolerable.

Always one foot too close to the cliff.

Always trying to reach my limits.

I close my eyes and let the burn sink into my skin, blooming into red shapes decorating my flesh. I grab my cinnamon shower gel just beside Ares’s all-in-one men's thing. How can he only use one product and smell so…so, damn it, so good.

Don’t think about him.

Not here.

Not now.

One sniff can’t hurt, right?

Just as I’m about to open his bottle and act like a teenager having a stupid, stupid crush, voices break me out of my daze.

Strange, I didn’t know we were expecting anyone.

Maria would have told me. The voices get clearer as I slide the door and enter our bedroom with my towel on. It sounds like a man and a woman are talking; only I know Maria's soft tone, and this is not it. I don’t even bother getting dressed and walk quietly to the stairs with my towel still on.

Well, I’m technically in my house, why wouldn’t I be able to get downstairs in a towel? It’s not like I’m butt-naked parading around the house. The towel goes to my thighs.

Words are muffled in the living room. It’s hard to hear from the entryway but Ares’s deep tone is impossible to mistake.

“...handsome, I was in the neighborhood and—” a familiar voice says. Focusing on its dripping honey tone, I gasp silently.

Carolina. What is she doing here?

Feeling bold, I glance at them from the entryway, hiding behind the wall of the stairs. Talk about making stupid decisions.

How about eavesdropping half-naked on your fake husband and a man-eater?

“...it’s a good idea, you probably should—” Ares says but I don’t catch all of it.

Is he asking her to stay? Perhaps he’s looking for a replacement already?

Hissing a breath, I pull the towel tighter around me, as if it could somehow protect my heart from whatever flirting banter is happening in there.

“...couldn’t say goodbye properly last time I—” she says, and I swallow hard, hearing fabric fall on the floor. Taking one last dangerous glance, hoping to not get seen, I trip on my toes and fall on the floor, my towel still, thank god, tucked around me.

Only I don’t get up right away, struck by the view of Carolina’s bare back in front of me, her blouse resting on the beige rug as if she was only starting to strip for Ares.

“Fuck, Mia,” he curses, rushing toward me but I get out of my haze, stumble and get up as quickly as I can and run toward our room. Ares doesn’t even have the time to get to me before I lock our door.

“Mia, open this door.” His tone is serious and commanding, surely the one he usually uses with his men. I don’t say anything, struck by the sight of Carolina’s nakedness and also by the reaction I had. I shouldn’t have cared about what happened downstairs. I really shouldn’t have. And yet, when I saw it, it felt like a million daggers piercing my heart, each sinking deeper as I witnessed my husband’s betrayal unfold right before my eyes. I step back into the room until my gaze reaches the mirror facing our bed.

You did it, Mia.

You fell for the bastard.

You made a mess.

Now how the hell are you going to deal with it?

Ares

Maria called me today, which was too fucking unusual for me to not pick up. She said Mia looked tired and sad. I’ve never cared about anyone’s feelings but knowing that my wife isn’t smiling and snapping at me with her usual wit doesn’t sit right with me. She’s still mad at me, but sad? Nah, that won’t do.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, gather the last contracts we’ve signed with the Mexican Cartel, take my Glock in my holster, and get out of the club. It’s six, way too fucking early to be home. I never get there this soon, actually.

Married to my work, that’s what Vox always says.

Well, married to Mia is more accurate now.

I spent the whole drive thinking about her. About what I should do to make her smile again. I took a chance on marrying the girl, but my guts rarely deceive me, and honestly, even with the whole attitude and panic attacks, I know I’m in fucking deep. I kind of like those things about her actually. Not the panic attacks, I mean. I’ve been working on finding a specialist to work with her on that. Doc told me the guy was the fucking best in his field and I wouldn’t want anything less for my little tornado. Hell, I’ll even come with her to her appointments if she wants me to.

I know I’m falling hard for the girl but why would I even deny it when it’s the fucking truth? It’s hard to get past the last woman before her, not because I fell for her too, but because the bitter taste of betrayal still lingers in my mouth. I get that Mia isn’t like her, especially since I saw how vulnerable she is when she’s with me compared to the perfect facade she displays for others. I can only assume she does that ‘cause she learned to adapt when she lived in her home in Chicago with her fucking neglectful parents. In a way, her being sassy with me is the biggest compliment she could ever give me. It means she knows I’ll never try to hurt her like her parents did. Means she’s safe to be herself around me.

I don’t want to repeat the past, yet I don’t fucking know how. Mia’s different. She’s a firework but I don’t know if she could fall for a control freak like me. And I don’t even know if I could trust her fully, or if I would always expect her to betray me one way or another.

I’m thirty-two, head of a massive MC club, feared by so many, and yet, this tiny redhead is rocking my world more than anything ever has. Vox was right, she’s my match.

I want her.

Not just now.

I want to keep her.

Always.

And I will, but it won’t be a fucking happy ending if she doesn’t want me back too.

Parking inside my garage beside other bikes, I remove my helmet and rush to the entryway, eager to find my woman. I’ve never been known to be the one who cheers up people. I guess it’s fair for someone with a psychotic reputation but I’ll do it for her if she needs me too. Perhaps I can buy her more wool or fucking needles to do the crochet stuff she likes to do in bed at night. I reach the door and an out-of-breath Maria greets me.

What’s wrong?

“Sir, I’m so sorry. There’s a lady waiting for you in the—”

I frown. “How did she get in?” My right hand instinctively grabs my gun in my holster. The whole house is protected by the Raven Sons. I have men making turns all around my property days and nights, and I added a few more since Mia moved in. Nobody can enter unless they’ve been invited or are family.

“It’s the lady from the other night, she said she had forgotten her jacket, she, um, she insisted on waiting for you,” she says, her hands trembling.

Fuck.

What is my sister’s friend doing here?

Can’t she take a fucking hint?

I nod once. “It’s alright for this time, Maria. But no more surprise visitors from now on,” I command her with no anger ‘cause she’s a good housekeeper, and knowing Carolina, I bet she couldn’t find a way to get rid of her.

“Yes, sir.” She nods, embarrassment painted on her face.

“Where’s Mrs Malone?” I ask as I give her my cut.

She swallows nervously. “Upstairs, sir.”

I nod, both of us knowing that Mia can’t see her in there. That’s what you pay good staff for. Little mistakes can be changed, but discretion, loyalty, and understanding of dynamics are priceless.

I walk to our living room, warm tones making it inviting with the wood molding and the modern cream sofas. I notice a laptop and a pink notebook are on one of the armchairs. Mia must have put her workstation here this afternoon. I like imagining my woman laid here in her tight clothes. What I would give to stay here and watch her all day with her glittery pen. It’s making me want to punch something as I imagine her chewing the damn thing in her full lips while she daydreams.

Focus.

First, get rid of Carolina.

Second, find Mia.

“Carolina,” I say with a dry and cold tone I reserve for fuckers who usually end up in my basement at the club.

“Hi, handsome,” she replies with a sultry, raspy voice.

Fuck no.

“I was in the neighborhood and I thought why not drop by and say hi.” She angles her face to gawk at me shamelessly. She reminds me of someone, her manners similar to the woman who used to live here years ago.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, you probably should go.” It’s Vanessa’s friend, telling her to get the fuck out isn’t probably the best idea. My sister would lose her shit over it.

“I couldn’t properly say goodbye last time I was here and I wanted to show you something,” she says as she unbuttons her shirt, her chest naked underneath as she lets the fabric fall on the rug.

What in the actual fuck?

I’ll deal with Vaness’ later.

Can’t say I didn’t try the easy way.

“The fuck you think you’re doing?” I grunt, unaffected by her attempts at seducing me. “The only reason I’m not throwing you away is because you know my sister, but let's make one thing clear, whatever shit you think is happening between us,” I tilt my head to the side as a slight sound echoes behind her, “isn’t happening. You’ve met my wife? Think I need anything more?”

She gasps, her jaw falling down, her eyes filled with anger.

Fuck her. The sooner she gets out, the sooner I’ll make sure Mia won’t find her naked in our home. Don’t want my little tornado to think I’d give a second of attention to this woman.

Right when I’m about to stride upstairs to find my Mia, I hear a fucking cute curse right before watching my delicious little wife trip on the floor of the entryway like a deer caught in plain sight.

Eavesdropping.

Wouldn’t have expected anything less.

I swallow a grin ‘cause there’s no fucking way I’m smiling in front of this woman standing here and rush to Mia, expecting to help her. But she storms to the stairs and beats me to it, shutting our door and locking it so fast I don’t have time to open it.

Shit.

Did she hear all of our conversation? If she only got a glimpse then she’s perhaps making things up in her head. Why did she even listen in the first place?

Could Mia be… jealous ?

Knocking less aggressively on the door, I try to calm myself.

“Mia, princess, open the door.”

Let me fix this.

Please.