Vivienne's POV

I stepped out of the car, and froze immediately. This was not what I expected, at all. A huge mansion stood in front of me, covering every inch of natural light from the sky. In fact, the only source of life I was privileged to were the blinding lamps that lit up the corner of the place.

The estate was massive, with dark stone walls wrapped in ivy. Iron gates stood tall behind us, and I didn't miss the security cameras mounted at the entrance to every corner. All around us, men stood guard, their gazes sharp.

I wasn't skilled with guns or any other form of weapon, but I just knew these people could take someone out from even a far distance. Their faces showed it all.

Cold and ruthless.

I'd expected a clubhouse. A rough, gritty rough biker den. But I couldn't be any more wrong.

This wasn't just the home of a simple biker. This was the home of a king. A ruthless biker king who just happened to be my husband now.

As I took in more and more of the massive grounds, well, as far as my eyes could see that is, a slow horrible realization crept up my spine. This wasn't just wealth, this was dangerous wealth.

This kind of wealth didn't come from legitimate businesses, nor a generational inheritance. This was the kind built on blood, secrets , on power plays so ruthless that they don't just break the laws, they rewrote them.

This was Grant's world.

I felt my chest tighten, and something akin to panic clawed at my throat.

Grant's wealth wasn't even this intimidating.

"Problem?" Someone's deep baritone was all it took to knock me back to the present. It took me a while, but I figured it was just Ronan.

"You're..." I muttered, breathless. I reached deep down, but I couldn't find the balls to say what I wanted to.

He was rich, powerful, and not what I thought he was, but I didn't dare let my thoughts out.

"You thought I lived in some rundown shack," I didn't miss the amusement in twinkling in his eyes, and bursting through his voice. "Didn't you?"

I parted my lips to speak, but no words came out. Why? Because he was right. I'd expected something gritty and chaotic . Something that reeked of cigarettes and smoke, with half naked women draped over worn leather couches, while bikers shouted over the road of engines.

But this? This was cold , untouchable and too damn familiar.

The main reason I'd escaped Grant was to get away from the many things he held over my head, but right now, I just might have walked into something much more worse than I originally thought.

While I skirted deeper into my thoughts, I didn't miss Ronan's gaze on me, his eyes digging deep into my skin, like he was desperately searching for a passage into my mind.

"Come on." He let out after what seemed like forever. He gave me a five second head start, but I didn't so much as acknowledge it. Once he realized that, he climbed up the little stairs that led up to his front door.

I counted to ten, inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, before trailing after him.

If I'd thought the outside was massive, then I was wrong. So wrong.

The interiors were just as overwhelming.

The floors were marble, expensive artworks lining the walls. I didn't miss the guards pointed stares as I trailed behind Ronan. With each one we passed, they greeted accordingly.

Ronan and I didn't stop our journey in the living room. We slipped through hallways and corridors, till we arrived at the foot of a double door.

Ronan hadn't opened it yet, but I just knew what was behind it.

A bedroom, but not just any bedroom. Ronan's.

He pushed open the doors with such ease, before strolling inside. Once he was on the other side, he flattened out his palm for me. I gave him a weary look, before breezing past him and for some strange reason, it made him laugh.

At least one of us wasn't feeling miserable in all of this.

His room was nothing like I'd expected either. Pristine white walls surrounded us , bathing us in its surprisingly glittery features. Unlike the other rooms we'd passed, there were no portraits or paintings in here. In fact, his room lacked every bit of personal touch you could think of, and it made me wonder just how many times he'd actually slept in here.

"Whatever you're thinking." His voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "I don't sleep here very often."

He didn't sound the least bit remorseful. Call me crazy, but I could swear he was rather proud about the whole ordeal.

"You should get comfortable." He added, before tossing his jacket onto the couch by the side. It was black with gold studs, and while it screamed luxury, I just knew it was super soft and comfortable.

"I'm fine." I crossed my hands over my bosom. "Just peachy."

"You want a drink?" He offered again, and I fought the urge to scoff. While he waited for my response, I watched him lean back, exuding every bit of casual dominance I'd ever seen.

"I don't want anything to drink." I snapped. "I want to set some rules."

"Rules?" Ronan stilled. I had no idea what had been going through his mind, but I just knew this wasn't a part of it.

"Yes." I nodded once. I held my head high, and even though it was nothing but a facade, I really hoped he wouldn't notice it. "If we're doing this, this whole marriage thing, then we need boundaries."

He watched me for the longest moment, his expression unreadable. Just when I thought he would snap, he shrugged, before adding. "Alright then, let's hear them."

"Fine." I steadied myself. "Rule one; separate bedrooms. We'll both have..."

"Not happening." Ronan snapped, causing me to flinch slightly. I watched him arch an eyebrow, before he continued. "No fucking way."

"Excuse me?" I bit back. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not having my wife sleep in the guest room like a fucking visitor." Something about the way he said the word wife, made my blood boil. It sent a thrill down my spine, and It took everything in me to push down the shiver that threatened to wash over me. "You'll sleep in our room, and on our bed."

Our room. Our bed.

His words didn't hide the one thing Ronan thrived on, possession. It was scary, but I found it incredibly hot at the same time.

"Fine." My voice was nothing short of a low squeak, but I continued anyway. "But no unnecessary touching."

"Define unnecessary." Ronan smirked.

"You know what I mean." I let out through gritted teeth, but all it did was make his lips curved upwards.

"Sure." He hummed. "next?"

"Rule three" I coughed out the words. "In public we'll keep up with appearances. But behind closed doors, we're strangers."

"Is that all, princess?" He tilted his head to the side. "Or should I get you a pen and some paper."

"Last one." My heart hammered in my chest. The mere thought was enough to send me into a coma, but I sucked it up, before spitting out the words. "No falling in love with each other."

I'd gotten married to Grant with nothing but love in my heart. I adored him, but all he did was misuse it. Not only did he do that, he'd replaced my heart with a hollow cavity, one I wasn't looking forward to filling anytime soon. Or forever even.

This was the moment where I'd expected a reaction from Ronan, but I didn't get it. At least, it didn't come immediately.

He didn't react. Instead , his eyes drank me in, his gaze dark and knowing.

Suddenly, he was on his feet, and while I struggled to figure out what was going on, he started walking towards me.

Step by step, he inched closer and closer, while I took two steps back. The air crackled with tension, and just when I thought it was never going to end, my back came in contact with the wall. Cold and obstructive.

I was stuck.

"I have something to add, princess." His voice was low, low enough to send shivers down my spine. "I don't do love. I own you."

"No." I gasped, my breath hitching in my throat. "You don't..."

"My turn." His deep octave had anxiety swirling in the pit of my belly. "Your body belongs to me."

I gasped. I never knew it was this possible for things to go from a zero to a hundred, in just one fucking minute.

"You can have all the little rules you want sweetheart." His tone was low and steady. "But that one, that one's mine."

Without warning, Ronan pulled away from me. The moment he'd put a little bit of distance between us, I missed his signature scent wafting through my nostrils. He'd left me bare, standing flustered, furious and far too aware of the heat swirling in my belly.

Then, almost like nothing had happened, he turned away.

"Get some sleep." Dangerous Ronan was nowhere to be found anymore. In the most casual tone I'd ever heard, he threw in his last words. "We've got a party to attend tomorrow."

"Party?" My stomach dropped. "What kind of party?"

"You'll see." Ronan smirked over his shoulder. Without so much as a glance, he slicked out of the room, leaving me with just one thought.

I'd thought Grant was the devil, but here I was, balls deep in a deal with his master.

Shit, I was doomed.

Vivienne's POV

I stood in front of the vanity, still wrapped in nothing but a silly robe I hadn't bothered to tie properly. The dim golden lightning in Ronan's bedroom cast a soft glow on my bare thighs as I stared at my reflection, unmoving.

Makeup lay on top of the glossy surface, and with the dresses spread and strewn across the bed, one would think a tornado had just rocked these four walls, but I knew better. I'd tried to pick out something earlier, something that made a statement, something that matched tonight's vibes, but everything I picked was either screaming too much or not enough.

And fun fact, I didn't want to go. At all.

I didn't want to go to some party with leather clad men and hungry eyed women. I didn't want to be anywhere near a place where I was going to have to be all smiles and pretend like I belonged on Ronan's arms.

Because I didn't. I wasn't his queen. I was just a pawn, a part of a deal that I was seriously starting to regret and ...

The sound of the bedroom door swinging open was all it took to pull me back to the present. I didn't even need to turn to figure out who it was. The sound of boots pounding behind me was enough.

I kept my gaze on anything but the mirror. There was a good distance between us, and while that was slightly preferable, I wasn't ready to lock eyes with him yet. Not when I was in nothing but a thin sheet of clothes.

"Why aren't you dressed yet?" his deep commanding voice cut through the silence. "I told you to be ready by seven."

"Because I'm not going." I inhaled sharply, keeping my voice firm. I clenched my hands into fists, just grabbing the hem of my robe.

Even in a million years, I wasn't sure I was ready to be paraded like some trophy, just so Ronan could prove a point.

A wave of silence settled between us, but it was gone in the blink of an eye. The sound of his boots inching closer reached my ears, and I inhaled sharply. My spine stiffened, but I refused to move. I felt him behind me before he even touched me, his heat licking at my skin.

"Not an option, princess." his voice was dark, dripping with amusement. His breath fanned the shell of my ear, and I fought the urge to shiver. " You're my wife now, and that means showing up by my side, no matter how much you pout about it."

"I didn't agree to be some kind of decoration for your little empire." I let out sharply, but all he did was chuckle. "I'm not going."

I had no idea what I was thinking. In all honesty, I didn't even think it through. It was hard enough that Ronan's presence was suffocating, having him behind me and dangerously close too, wasn't something I was sure I could endure.

I turned, wiggling at the right angle and resting against the vanity like it could hold me up for long. In my attempt to escape him, I'd unintentionally placed myself in his line of vision. He must have read my mind, because a sly smirk made its way to his lips immediately.

Shit.

Ronan's gaze raked down the length of my robe, his eyes lingering on the undone fabric and bare skin. His lips quirked in a way I found dangerous but sexy. "And why's that, wife?"

"Because I'm not your trophy." I straightened. "I don't owe anyone who's related to you, a performance tonight."

"This marriage was never just about you and me." He took a slow step forward, before leaning in even closer. He looked like a predator cornering prey, and I hated that I knew which category I fell under. "It's about power. Territory, perception. You walking in on my arm sends a message tonight."

"I don't care about your damned message." I snapped. "Im not going to parade around like some prize."

I moved to step past him, but he was faster. In a matter of seconds, his palm slapped against the wall behind my head, caging me in place.

"You're not going?" his voice dropped to a whisper, but it didn't make the edges any less blunt. His breath kissed my cheek, so close I could almost taste it. "That's cute."

Ronan's gaze dipped, trailing lazily over my lips before flickering back to my eyes. Amusement and something dangerous dances behind his orbs, but I pushed them aside.

"Tell me." He murmured, tilting his head to the side. " Is it that you don't want to go, or you don't trust yourself around me?"

My breath caught in my throat, and my pulse scattered across my skin, but I managed to mask it all.

"You wish." I scoffed in his face. "You're delusional."

He said nothing in response. Instead, he just stared at me, his eyes drinking in every part of me. While he was enjoying every bit of the show, I refused to look at him. My skin was on fire and my insides were starting to turn to mush, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of finding out.

"Move." I blurted out, but not with the vigor I'd imagined.

"No." His response was sharp, and he leaned in closer.

"Tell you what," Ronan said, his mouth ghosting over my ear. " Let's play a game."

"What?" I blinked back in confusion. I wasn't sure which was more confusing, his suggestion or the things his scent was doing to me. He smelled accurately of smoke, whiskey and something fruity. It was a weird combination, so maybe that's why it threatened to override my senses.

"If you can stay still," he whispered. "and not react to what I do next, you can stay here."

"But if you react once," his fingers trailed lightly down the side of my neck, sending a violent shiver through me. "You're mine tonight. In every sense of the word."

"That's ridiculous." My lips parted. "That doesn't...."

"Is it?" His hands slipped into my robe, cutting me short. He brushed the bare skin of my waist so gently, I couldn't help but stutter. "Still want to play, sweetheart?"

"I'm not going anywhere." I clung to the vanity, my fingers clenching against its edges. Like that was going to change anything, I let out through gritted teeth. "I'm not going."

"You'll just have to prove it then."

His fingers trailed lower, slipping under the silk and skimming my thighs.

"Your heart's racing." He added, his voice pure sin and amusement dancing in his words. "You like this?"

"No, I don't." The lie tumbled past my lips faster than I could catch it.

Again, he dipped his head, his lips just barely grazing my collarbone. I jolted in response, a low moan bubbling at the back of my throat, and just like that, I'd lost.

"You flinched." He smiled, triumph shining in his eyes.

"That doesn't count..."

"Yes, it does, princess." He pulled away, just enough to take every inch of his body warmth with him. Without blinking, he grabbed a dress off the bed and it just happened to be the one I'd been avoiding.

It was blood red, and the perfect definition of sin.

"Put this on." He tossed the dress at me. "I'll be back in ten."

"I hate you." I glared at him.

"You'll hate me more when I show you what kind of party it is." His smile widened. "Ten minutes, or I'm dressing you myself."

And with that, he walked out, leaving the door wide open and my heart pounding like war drums in my chest.

I looked down at the dress in question

I was really going to the damn party, and deep down , a part of me already knew I wasn't coming back the same.

Vivienne's POV

I already knew this was a mistake even before he forced the words down my throat, but what did I do? I went ahead with it.

Did I regret it? Yes

Was this going to be the end of such horrible decisions? Not at all.

I was screwed.

Really.

My eyes landed on the dress still sprawled on the bed. For the next couple of seconds, I deliberated my options.

One, actually wear the dress before Ronan's ten minutes were up, or two, shred it into pieces till it was completely unwearable for the party.

While the second option sounded plausible, it didn't take me more than a second to figure out the downside. Ronan was unpredictable, and no matter how much I thought I knew about him, which was little by the way, I just knew I would never be able to outsmart him, or play him from underneath his nose.

If I tore up the dress, I wouldn't put it past him to make me go in my underwear or anything more revealing. Yes, he was crazy that way, and for some strange reason, I found it exhilarating.

I already had one leg in the blood red dress when the door creaked open beside me.

Ronan.

How had ten minutes gone by so quickly?

Shit.

I gulped, not knowing what else to do or how to react. He'd given me ten minutes, and I was nowhere near done. What was he going to do?

Drag me out like this? Give me a little more time, or was he really going to dress me up like he said?

A shudder raced down my spine at the thought, but thankfully, I didn't have to dwell on it for a second longer.

Ronan's shadow spilled into the room first, followed by the man himself. Leather and danger clung to him like a second skin, and I wouldn't be exaggerating when I said he looked untouchable. He had his signature smirk on his face, the one he always wore as a crown, and hell, it suited him really well.

His gaze locked on me in the mirror, and I couldn't bring myself to avert my gaze, no matter how hard I tried. I was half dressed and a flustered mess, with my heaving chest giving it all away.

He was having a darn good time and he didn't even bother to hide it. Like that wasn't enough, I watched his eyes darken, slow and deliberate, as he dragged them over my body.

Get a grip on yourself, woman.

"Well, well, well." He drawled. "When I said ten minutes, I wasn't expecting a show in return"

A scowl made its way to my face, and I found myself pulling up the dress faster than I intended. His eyes lit up in amusement, and I fought the urge to slap it right out of his eyes. It was a little too late for modesty, but the least he could do was to rub it in my face.

"You said ten minutes." I huffed. "You're early. Why?"

"And you're still not ready." I hated the way there was a hint to his voice, one I just couldn't place my finger on, no matter how hard I tried.

Was it anger? Irritation, or something else? Did he mean it, or was he only trying to get a rise from me as always?

Without waiting for so much as a response from me, he crossed the room like he owned it, like he owned me., before coming to stand behind me at the vanity.

Our eyes met in the mirror, and in a flash, it felt like a repeat of what had just happened some minutes ago.

I hated how my breath hitched in my throat and how breathless I felt. I hated how the heat between us refused to die down. Hated how.....

Ronan reached for the zipper at the back of my dress without asking, and that was all it took to pull me out of my thoughts.

"I can do it myself." The goal was to sound confident and show him how much I didn't need his help, but my voice betrayed me last minute.

"I know." He murmured, his voice a low whisper. "But I want to."

His words stirred something in me, something I didn't like.

His fingers brushed my bare spine as he slowly, and deliberately pulled the zipper up.

The brush of his knuckles made goosebumps erupt across my arms, and I bit my lip, refusing to give him any satisfaction of another win.

"You're shaking." He breathed against my neck. "And I wonder why."

"I'm cold." The lie tumbled past my lips in an instant.

"Liar."

I swallowed.

"You look like war in that dress, Vivienne." he leaned in, his lips ghosting over the nape of my neck. "All sharp lines and red warnings. You're definitely going to ruin lives tonight, mine included."

My knees nearly buckled, but he was quick to catch me either way. He caught my waist, fingers biting into my hips long enough to steady me, and to remind me that no matter what I told myself , he had an effect on me I couldn't fight.

Way to go, Vivienne. Way to go.

"I don't want to go." I blurted out, quieter this time. I'd been approaching the matter head on, and Ronan had been outrightly refusing.

What if I tried a different approach instead? What if all Ronan was to be submitted to? If I could get my way tonight, then maybe I would be able to work something out later in the future.

Heavy on the maybe.

"You're not going for them, princess." he turned me around to face him, his voice surprisingly soft. "You're going for me, and If anyone touches you tonight, they'll lose the hand they used."

For some strange reason, there wasn't a hint of a false promise in his voice. I knew he meant it, and it made my skin hum.

Without warning, he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. I had no idea why it happened, but for a brief second, I imagined his huge hands fisting my hair from behind while he rammed into me and.....

Vivienne, stop.

"Finish getting ready." he nodded toward the lipstick on the vanity. I'll be waiting by the bike."

He turned to leave, and had already gotten as far as the door before coming back again.

I had no idea what he had up his sleeve, but it definitely wasn't what he did next.

In two strides he was in front of me again, one hand cupping my jaw, and tilting my head up.

His lips brushed mine and I shuddered. It was barely a kiss, nothing sweet about it, It was all heat and intent, with the hint of a promise of more.

So why the hell did it make my toes curl?

"Don't keep me waiting." When he pulled back his breath was rough.

And without warning, he was gone, leaving behind the scent of leather, sin and something unspoken.

My pulse raced as I walked back to the vanity. I was dazed, but still steadied myself just enough to grab my lipstick. I reached to the dresser for a hairpin and I'd barely gotten it out when something clinked in the clutter.

I paused.

Tucked beneath a pile of bandanas and coins was a small black handgun.

My breath hitched in my throat, and I fought the urge to pass out right there and then.

It obviously wasn't mine, and I didn't want to believe that Ronan had left it there. Why would he leave a gun in my dresser?

I stared at it for a second, heart thumping like a wild drum, then slowly and almost without thinking, I closed the drawer again.

I already had too many problems on my plate, and I'd be damned if I added a fucking gun to the list.