Chapter 18
I wore my wedding dress, the silk and lace hugging me tightly as if it were a part of me. The dress was a fucking masterpiece, with delicate lace appliques on the bodice and trailing down the skirt. The sweetheart neckline framed my collarbones, and the fitted silhouette hugged my curves in all the right places, flaring out into a graceful train that pooled around my feet. The intricate beading caught the light, sparkling like tiny stars against the creamy fabric. It was a dress made for fairy tales, for real love stories, not for the charade Vince and I were pulling off.
But as I stood there, staring at myself in the mirror, a knot tightened in my stomach. The dress symbolized the lie we were living, the elaborate ruse. Each stitch, each bead, felt like a thread binding me to this deception. My reflection looked like a bride ready to embark on a lifelong journey of love and commitment, but beneath the surface, I was a biker chick thrust into a world that wasn't mine, pretending to be something I wasn't for reasons that were becoming murkier by the day.
Money. I’d wanted the money and the thrill. Money was evil and the rush of excitement was a monkey on my back. I tried to shake off the feeling, telling myself it didn’t matter. This wasn’t real. It was just a job, a role to play. When I averted my gaze from the mirror, the dress's weight bore down on me, serving as a glaring reminder of the intricate lies we had spun.
The staff bustled around the mansion, preparing for the big day. Vivian was at the helm, barking orders and ensuring every detail was perfect. I had no say in any of it, and I told myself I didn’t care. It wasn’t real, after all. Just a means to an end.
But as I watched the decorations go up and the preparations unfold, something inside me twisted. The magnitude of the farce we were about to perform hit me hard. Everyone would be there, believing in this fairy tale. Maybe a small part of me wanted it to be real.
When the last of the staff left the room, I couldn’t take anymore pretending. I grabbed a vase from the table and hurled it at the large mirror, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room. The cracks spread across the mirror, distorting my reflection. Maybe I did care more than I wanted to admit.
Vince and I were supposed to get our marriage license. I went to find him, and as I neared his father’s study, I overheard a conversation.
“Harold can’t trust Vince to take the lead,” Vince’s cousin said to his sister, Claire. “Marco had secured the biggest club in the state to do our bidding, the bikers in Miami, and I was Marco's right-hand guy. Vince knows their plan was to run the other motorcycle clubs out of the state, all the one percenters, and he brings a biker bitch home to marry. When those bitches killed Marco. It’s a slap in Harold’s face. A fucking challenge to us all. Vince has gone crazy. If Grandpa had his wits, he’d strike Vince’s name off his will.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Vince’s sister and his cousin were talking about my club, about our territory. They were planning to control the bikers in Florida, and Vince was supposed to be in on it. Was that why he chose me? To use me as part of their scheme?
I found Vince in our room, his back turned to me. I stormed in, fury coursing through me. "We have to go get our marriage license," I snapped.
Vince turned to look at me, surprise flickering in his eyes at my tone. “Alright, let’s go.”
We got into the car, and the silence between us was so thick I wanted to cut it. Cut someone. I felt for my knife but of course I didn’t have it. Vince had convinced me I was safe with him. And of course, I’d been loving what he did with my knife.
Fuck, I’d been so stupid.
As we drove towards the courthouse, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Why did you bring me here, Vince?” I demanded, my voice raising with anger. “Was it just to use me? To make a fool out of me and my club?”
Vince glanced over at me, looking confused. “What are you talking about?”
“I heard your cousin, Rob,” I hissed. “Talking about how you’re supposed to take the lead, how Marco had secured the biggest biker club in the state to do your dirty work. You brought me here as part of some plan, didn’t you? To control the bikers in Florida?”
Vince’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything. The silence spoke volumes.
“Answer me!” I screamed, my hands balled up. “Is that why you chose me? To include me in some scheme?"
Vince finally spoke, his voice low and strained. “It’s not like that, Sybil.”
“Then what is it like?” I demanded. “Tell me the truth, Vince. Because right now, it feels like I’ve been played one too many times.”
He hit the wheel. "I was unaware of Marco's plans until recently. I swear. I’m out of the loop. Why do you think everyone in my family is against me taking over? Do you think I would’ve brought my cousin’s murderer here if I’d have known?”
“The Heelz didn’t kill Marco,” I said, unsure if that was entirely true or not.
Vince brushed that part off. “Sybil, I brought you here because I needed someone strong, someone who could handle this life. I recognized you when I saw you, yes. But that was all chance. I was looking for a biker chick, not some wilting flower. That’s why I went to the auction to begin with. But I chose you because I recognized something in you that I understood I needed.”
His words sounded so genuine, but I wasn’t ready to forgive just yet. “Then why didn’t you tell me right away? Why did you keep me in the dark?”
“I didn’t know how to,” he admitted. “I was afraid you’d run off.”
“Why because I’m crazy?”
“No.”
“When did you find out?” I asked something that had been weighing on me for a while.
“After the auction, I googled you. I asked around town.”
The anger in me simmered, but I couldn’t ignore the hurt and betrayal I felt. “You knew all along, who I was and how I am.” I stared out the window, watching the scenery blur past, my mind racing. I realized that in the thrill of everything, I hadn’t asked enough questions. Something about all of this felt off, and I needed answers yesterday.
“Why are we going to the courthouse if the marriage is fake?” I started with the obvious.
Vince looked put out. “Because the marriage isn’t fake, Sybil. It’s real.”
I blinked, stunned. “What do you mean it’s real? This is a fake marriage.”
“In terms of us pretending to be in love, but for all legal purposes, it’s real.”
Okay, that’s not what he said in the beginning. “What about afterwards?”
“Like I said, you can go back to your life.”
“Do we get a divorce or an annulment?” I asked.
“The marriage is real,” he repeated, his tone firm. "Afterward, you can resume your normal life, but we will remain legally married.”
I freaked out when he said that. “You mean to tell me that I’m actually marrying you? For real? And I’m supposed to stay legally married to you?”
Vince nodded, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Yes. I never lied about that part, Sybil.”
I felt a surge of anger and betrayal. “So, I just get a house and a million bucks for marrying you and staying your wife? That’s it? Fuck that, I’ll just take half!”
“Do it,” he countered.
“I can’t marry you for real,” I shouted.
“We agreed to this,” Vince argued, his voice soaring. “You knew what you were getting into. You signed your name on the dotted line.”
“Bullshit!” I shot back. “I thought this was a sham! I didn’t realize I was actually signing up to be your wife forever. Is this why your proposal didn’t work on the other women?”
His jaw tightened, and he stared straight ahead. “I didn’t love those other women.”
Refusing to acknowledge his words, I couldn’t handle the emotions swirling around inside me. “Let me out of the car,” I demanded, my voice shaking with fury.
“No,” Vince said, his tone final. “We’re going to the courthouse.”
"I said set me free!" I screamed, reaching for the door handle.
Vince kept driving, his eyes focused on the road. “Stop it, Sybil. You’re not thinking clearly.”
But I wasn’t going to listen. I yanked the door open, the wind whipping through the car.
“Sybil! What the hell are you doing?” he shouted, his features revealing both his anger and worry.
My chest heaved as I couldn’t think straight. “I’m not going through with this, Vince. I’m not your fucking pawn!”
His eyes pleaded. “Please, Sybil, just listen to me. You’re not going to jump. You’re not that crazy.”
“Want to bet,” I screeched. “You lied to me. You used me. I’m done.”
Without a second thought, I jumped out, rolling onto the pavement as the car screeched to a halt behind me. Pain shot through my body as I tumbled across the road, but I didn’t care. I scrambled to my feet, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Vince sprung out of the car, running towards me.
With that, I turned and started walking away, my mind made up. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I couldn’t stay with Vince. Not after this.
I kept walking, ignoring the pain shooting through my body. I didn’t care. I was done with Vince and his lies. But I could hear him running behind me, getting closer with each step.
“Sybil, stop!” he shouted, desperation lacing his voice.
I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. But he caught up to me, grabbing my arm and forcing me to face him.
“Let go of me,” I hissed, trying to yank my arm free.
“Please, just listen,” he pleaded. “You can go home. Just let me call an ambulance and get you checked out first. You’re hurt.”
I glared at him, but the pain was becoming unbearable. “Fine. But after that, I’m gone.”
Vince pulled out his phone and called for an ambulance, his panicked eyes never leaving mine. Within minutes, the wail of sirens filled the air, and the EMTs arrived, rushing towards us.
"She leaped out of the car," Vince explained to them. “I need you to check her for injuries.”
The EMTs moved quickly, assessing my condition. They insisted I get into the ambulance, and I reluctantly agreed, but only after I made it clear I didn’t want Vince with me.
“I don’t want him anywhere near me,” I told them, my voice firm.
One of the EMTs nodded, and they guided me into the ambulance, leaving Vince outside. As they began to work on me, I overheard Vince talking to the other paramedics.
“She takes lithium and Seroquel,” he said, his voice low but clear. “Make sure she has them.”
My heart sank. I hadn't realized he was aware of my medication. But then it hit me—of course, he knew. He knew about everything from the beginning. He knew about my past, my struggles, my crazy. He’d taken advantage of me, used my vulnerability against me.
Lying on the stretcher, I felt a wave of anger and betrayal wash over me. His words of love, his promises—they were all just another manipulation. Another way to control me.
As the ambulance sped towards the hospital, I stared up at the ceiling, my head a mess. Vince’s face flashed in my mind, the memory of his touch, his kiss. It had all felt so real, so intense. But now, it was tainted with the knowledge of his deceit.
I had to get out. I had to find a way to escape this twisted game he was playing. And this time, I wouldn’t let him catch me.