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.”
“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. The kitchen 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.
Vince watched me over the rim of his glass, his eyes dark and unreadable. “I promise you, Sybil, this will be worth your while.”
“Why do you keep calling me that? It’s Psycho.”
“Not if you’re going to be my bride,” he remarked.
I locked eyes with him, feeling the same burn as the whiskey in my belly. “You’d better be right, Vince. Because if you’re not, you’ll regret ever crossing paths with me.”
He smiled, a hint of challenge in his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Psycho.”
As we sat down to discuss the details of his proposal, I couldn't shake off the notion that I was stepping into a game I didn't fully grasp. But one thing was certain—I wasn’t about to let Vince get the upper hand.