Her brows shoot up, slow and unconvinced. “Passing by the club, which is on an empty industrial estate, at five in the morning?”
Fuck.I should’ve expected that. Eden’s logic is a powerhouse on a good day, and she’s running at full speed now. “Sketchy, I know, but—” I shrug like it’s nothing, even though my pulse hasn’t settled since I left them.
“Kade…” Her voice dips, quiet but firm. “Is everything okay?” She’s watching me like she can see straight through my skin, right to the truth I’m burying. That worry in her eyes aches. Makes me want to climb into bed, pull her into my chest, and pretend nothing outside this room exists.
I don’t answer her. Not with words.
Instead, I climb onto the bed and pounce, bracing my hands on either side of her head as I use my weight to pin her down. She lets out a startled breath, eyes widening just before my mouth brushes her jaw.
“Now,” I murmur, lowering my voice to that place that always makes her melt, “I was about to show my ol’ lady her birthday surprise.”
The tension in her shoulders loosens—justenough. The distraction hits exactly where I need it to. She giggles, the sound soft and pretty as my lips trail down her throat.
I nudge the duvet aside, kissing a slow path down her collarbone, her chest, her stomach. Her fingers slide into my hair, tugging gently, her breath catching as I move lower.
CHAPTER TWO
EDEN
Breakfast is where the real chaos begins.
I barely make it into the dining room before the entire club explodes—party poppers, whistles, things that absolutely should not be this loud when you’ve had two hours of sleep. Everyone yellshappy birthdayand fires confetti in my direction. My hangover screams, but I force a smile and instinctively hide behind Kade’s broad back.
“Happy birthday, Queenie,” he murmurs, pulling me around to stand in front of him.
I glance at the room, and my heart swells. This club, these people, they’re my whole world. One by one, they hug me, shove gifts into my arms, and make a fuss until Maggie claps her hands and orders everyone to sit.
“Thirty is a big one,” she announces as she places a three-tier cake down in front of me. The candles flicker like something out of a film.
“Did you make this?” I gasp.
She nods proudly. Of course she did. Maggie’s practically raised twenty bikers—no wonder she can bake like a pro.
“You’re going to have the best day,” Fern declares, looping her arm through mine. “We’re starting with shopping.”
I groan. I hate shopping with a passion, but Fern immediately bribes me with the promise of a cocktail lunch, so I let it slide.
Fern became my best friend the day I met Kade. I’d stumbled into the club tattoo shop drunk, demanding he cover up my cheating ex’s name. He was about to close, but I begged—and he told me he never could resist a girl who begs. After that, we were inseparable. I fell fast, stupidly fast, and he brought me to the club that same night to meet his father and his “brothers.”
Back then, I genuinely thought all twenty of them were blood-related. I learned quickly whatbrotherhoodreally meant, and I loved it. I didn’t have a bad childhood—not compared to some of the women tied to The Satan Kings MC, but I lost my mum at eighteen to cancer, and with no dad around, it was just me and my younger sister Martha. I became her carer overnight.
So, seeing a place where people looked out for each other like this, I got pulled in hard.
Since then, Martha and I have become part of their tight-knit family, and I honestly can’t imagine life without them. They’ve given us what we always craved. Love. Security. A place where we’re accepted.
Fern, the VP’s old lady, is my ride-or-die. Then there’s Maddie, who’s with Stacks, our Sergeant at Arms. Lucy, Kade’s younger sister. Darcie and Orla, who floated in like lost souls and somehow stuck like glue.
And then there are the other women—the club girls. The brothers call them whores, which I hate, but it’s the truth of the lifestyle. Most of them are a nightmare, and I steer clear, but a couple of them? Jet and Nymph? I adore them. Jet with her ink-black hair and quiet stare. Nymph, a literal goddess, apparently in and out of the bedroom. They’re strong and beautiful, but if you heard even half their pasts, they’d break the toughest heart in the club.
I let the girls drag me around the shops. Kade shoved a wad of cash into my hand this morning to “treat myself,” but honestly, there’s nothing I need. Fern, however, is determined I buy something scandalous. When she shoves a deep-red lace bodysuit at me, I roll my eyes and remind her it’smybirthday, so technically I shouldn’t be treatingKade.
Still, it’s cute. And it’ll drive him absolutely insane. So into the bag it goes.
We’re rushing to catch up with the others, who went ahead to grab a table at the cocktail bar, when someone calls my name.
Not my real name.Queenie.
The nickname Kade gave me the night he covered my ex’s name with a Queen of Hearts card. My whole body goes cold, it feels wrong coming from anyone but Kade. And when I turn, there they are.The two men from last night. This time with a cluster of older teenagers trailing behind them like guard dogs, with hoods up, eyes sharp, expressions blank and intimidating. I swallow my panic, because as scared as I am, I can’t show that. They’ll feed off it.
