Barely.
Thank-fucking-Christ.
But watching her fight, seeing her suffer, it drove home what I already knew.
Money was a curse.
It hadn’t saved my parents.
It hadn’t prevented Queenie’s cancer.
It was just this massive weight I carried, this fortune Ineverwanted, this identity I resented.
When Queenie was in recovery, I joined the Las Vegas Defiance MC. The club became my salvation. My escape from being Damon Blackwell, billionaire CEO.
With my brothers, I was just Nitro.
No money, no expectations, no legacy weighing me down.
I started driving Uber for the same reason—to feel normal.
Every fare, every conversation, it grounded me. Reminded me that beneath the fortune, I was a man. A man who wanted to be loved for who he was, not what he had.
That’s why I haven’t told Marley the truth.
With her, I’m just Nitro—a biker who drives Uber and cares about his grandmother.
She doesn’t see dollar signs.
She sees me.
The real me.
The version that feels true.
But I know I can’t keep this secret forever. Eventually, I’ll have to tell Marley about Damon Blackwell. About the billions and the business empire.
I’ll have to show her the side of myself I resent most.
The side that only exists because my parents died.
I feel as if I spend hours staring out into the Vegas night, drinking whiskey, dwelling on the lies I tell myself, and the lies I’m telling Marley—or more to the fact, the truth I’m not telling her.
Suddenly, my phone buzzes.
Marley:Made it back home to bed. Sage is fine… she just had a manicure disaster and needed to vent… still can’t believe you might have found a way out of Derek hell for me. You’re kind of amazing, you know that?
A smile tugs at my lips despite the heaviness in my chest.
Me:Just taking care of my girl.
Marley:Your girl, huh?
Me:Got a problem with that, Small Town?
Marley:Not even a little bit. Night, City Boy.
Me:Night, baby.
