Midnight (The Devil’s House MC: West Virginia #8)

Chapter Four

TIME WAS SLIPPING away like sand through my fingers, and my desperation grew with each passing moment. This Saturday, I would be walking down the aisle, trapped in a gown that felt more like a shroud. As I stepped out of the dress shop and into the car, the last fitting of my wedding dress clung to me, a tangible reminder of the unwanted future looming over me. The very air seemed to thicken with dread, suffocating my hopes and dreams.

“Snap out of it, Hadleigh,” my mother hissed, her voice a sharp whisper meant only for my ears. Despite her discretion, the driver glanced at us briefly in the rearview mirror. His name was Micheal, and there was no point in whispering. He knew the intricate web of our household’s dramas.

I couldn’t contain my frustration. “So, I’m supposed to smile and dance while being shackled into this nightmare?” I retorted, the bitterness in my voice sharp.

My mother exhaled, a sound heavy with both impatience and a weary resignation. “Don’t think of it like you’re being forced into it,” she began, her hand reaching for mine as if to anchor me to this grim reality. “It’s about the life it brings—wealth, influence, lineage.”

“And what about love?” The word hung between us, fragile and forlorn.

With a scoff, my mother replied, “Love? A child’s fairy tale. Men are faithful only until the next pretty young thing catches their eye. Even your precious lover would turn his back on you for someone else. Believe me, I’ve seen enough to know that love is nothing more than a lure used by men to trap you.”

The image of Kaven, possibly with someone else, twisted in my stomach like a knife. He had every reason to move on; after all, I vanished from his life without a word.

“Hadleigh,” my mother continued, her tone softening but her words cutting deeper, “perhaps it was a mistake to let you believe you could lead a different life, to let you dream so freely. I thought a taste of freedom might sweeten what was to come. But this—this is our world, our duty. No amount of dreaming can alter that.”

“Why not Lizzie then? If it’s just about alliances?” I shot back, desperate for any escape.

“Because you are the favorite, the mirror image of your grandfather in both looks and spirit. To him, this marriage is not a sentence but a crowning gift, entrusting you to the most powerful man he knows. He believes it’s an act of love.”

I slumped back against the leather seat, resigned. My mother, bound so tightly to these archaic ideals, couldn’t see beyond the gilded cage.

As we arrived home, Samuel Flavio’s imposing SUV greeted us. “Behave like the lady you are meant to be, Hadleigh,” my mother cautioned as we stepped out of the car.

Inside, we learned Samuel awaited us on the patio. My heart sank further, but my curiosity peaked. Samuel never spent time with me that wasn’t planned out by our families, and as he rose to greet us, I eyed him suspiciously. “I thought I’d take Hadleigh out for lunch,” he announced unexpectedly, a tight smile playing on his lips. What was this sudden change?

“Oh, of course,” my mother replied, nudging me with a look that brooked no argument.

Masking my distaste for him with a practiced smile, more curious than anything, I agreed. “Yes, I’d love to.”

What was Samuel up to? And could this unexpected outing offer a glimpse of hope, or was it just wishful thinking, and this was only another link in my chains?

IN THE SECLUDED corner of the upscale restaurant Velvet Vine that he owned, the silence between Samuel and me stretched like an insurmountable chasm. The plush velvet booth embraced us, but its comfort seemed meaningless under the weight of our unspoken tension. With each clink of the silverware, the atmosphere grew more suffocating, a testament to the gravity of our situation.

Samuel’s icy gaze met mine, his silence during the ride a foreboding message: “We’ll talk at the restaurant.” No further explanation, just that tantalizing promise hanging in the air, leaving me simmering with frustration and curiosity.

Unable to contain my mounting impatience any longer, I finally broke the silence. “Why drag me here if you’re just going to sit in silence?” My voice carried a sharp edge, slicing through the quiet like a knife.

His response was a low mutter, his jaw clenched with determination. “God, I hope this works.”

“What did you say?” I demanded, leaning in closer, desperate to catch every word.

“Listen, Hadleigh,” he began, his voice dripping with urgency. His eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart race. “Neither of us wants this marriage, but breaking off our contract could ignite a war between our families.” He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. “But I think I’ve found a way out—a plan so risky it must stay between us. Do you understand? No one else can know.”

“A way out?” Hope flickered in my chest, mingling with the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

“Yes,” he pressed on, his voice barely above a whisper. “Do you understand? There can be no leaks.”

His desperation mirrored my own. “I won’t tell a soul, I swear,” I breathed out, sealing our pact with a promise.

Leaning even closer, Samuel’s voice dropped to a mere murmur. “We’ll proceed with the wedding, play every part perfectly. But just before the ceremony, here’s the twist.” My eyes widened as he unfolded the audacious scheme, its daring nature sending a thrilling shiver down my spine. “It will appear that our enemies orchestrated the disruption, allowing us both to escape this fate without suspicion.”

“And the men involved in the escape—are they reliable?” I asked, my voice trembling ever so slightly, not from fear but from the sheer audacity of our plan.

“They’re my brother and his crew,” Samuel reassured me, his confidence unshakable. “They’ll protect you. No harm will come to you.”

“Then I’m in,” I declared without a second thought, my resolve steeling like a sword. “I’ll do anything to avoid marrying you.”

A laugh escaped Samuel’s lips, momentarily easing the severity of the moment. “You’re not easy on my ego,” he said, a hint of relief lacing his laughter. In that instant, it became clear that he, too, longed to be free, to make a life most likely with the woman at his penthouse.

Agreeing to his dangerous plan, we shared a conspiratorial smile, our burden lightened by the shared secret. The stakes were high, but so were our hopes of getting out of this marriage. In that quiet corner of his restaurant, under the soft lighting and amidst the weight of our family's expectations, we forged a bond that would defy tradition and set us both free, and I couldn’t wait until it happened.