CHAPTER 3 - Possessive Claims

EVA

"You are not taking me to my father's house."

I watched the streets pass by through the truck window, recognizing the route. Albert was driving toward Steel Vipers territory, not Crimson Reapers.

"No," he said, hands tight on the wheel. "You are staying with me tonight."

"Excuse me?" I twisted in my seat. "I did not agree to that."

"Someone just threw a brick through a window with a death threat. You think I am letting you sleep alone?"

"We are not married yet. I am not your property yet."

His jaw clenched. "This is not about property. This is about keeping you alive."

"My father's house has a dozen Reapers guarding it at any given time. I will be fine."

"Your father's house is predictable. Anyone watching knows that is where you will go." He took a sharp turn. "The clubhouse has better security, and nobody expects you there."

"The Steel Vipers clubhouse?" My voice rose. "Are you insane? Those men hate me. I am a Reaper by blood."

"They will hate you less after we are married."

"Oh, well that is comforting."

He pulled into the compound, gates closing behind us with a metallic clang that sounded like a cell door. The clubhouse was a sprawling building covered in Vipers insignia, motorcycles lined up like soldiers. Men stopped what they were doing to stare as Albert parked.

"Stay close to me," he said, killing the engine. "Do not talk to anyone unless I tell you to."

"I am not a child—"

"Eva." He turned those gray eyes on me. "These men have been at war with your family for three years. Some of them lost brothers. They are only tolerating this marriage because Knox ordered it. Do not test them."

Something cold settled in my stomach. "If they hate me so much, why am I here?"

"Because I protect what is mine." He got out of the truck.

What is mine. Like I was a possession he had already claimed.

I followed him inside, feeling every eye track my movement. The clubhouse smelled like beer and smoke and motor oil. Women in tight clothes draped over bikers, music pounding from somewhere deeper in the building.

A massive man with a shaved head blocked our path. Tattoos covered every inch of visible skin, and his eyes were flat and cold.

"You brought her here?" His voice was gravel and rust. "The princess?"

"She is under my protection, Jacks," Albert said. "Anyone touches her, they answer to me."

Jacks looked me up and down like I was something he scraped off his boot. "Knox know about this?"

"He will."

Another biker appeared, younger, maybe late twenties with a cruel smile. "Damn, Ghost. Could not wait three more days? Had to bring your new toy home early?"

Albert moved so fast I barely saw it. He had the younger man pinned against the wall, forearm across his throat.

"You want to repeat that?" Albert's voice was death.

The biker's face went red. "No... no, man... I was just..."

"She is not a toy. She is not entertainment. She is going to be my wife, which means she is family." Albert pressed harder. "Disrespect her again and I will rip out your tongue. Understand?"

The biker nodded frantically.

Albert released him, turned back to me. "This way."

He led me down a hallway, up stairs, to a door at the end. His room, I realized as he unlocked it. Private quarters away from the chaos below.

The space was surprisingly clean. A bed, a desk, weapons mounted on the wall. No personality, no photos, nothing that made it feel like someone actually lived here.

"You can have the bed," he said, locking the door behind us. "I will take the floor."

I stood in the middle of the room, arms wrapped around myself. "This is insane. All of this."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it is true!" I spun on him. "Three days ago I was planning my escape. I had money saved, applications submitted, a whole life mapped out. Now I am standing in my enemy's bedroom, promised to a man who just choked someone for calling me a toy."

"He was out of line."

"You almost killed him!"

"I was making a point." Albert pulled off his leather cut, hung it carefully. "They need to understand you are not to be touched."

"Why? Why do you even care? You made it clear this marriage means nothing to you."

He was quiet for a long moment. Then: "It means you do not get hurt on my watch. That is the deal."

"The deal," I repeated. "Right. Business arrangement. How could I forget?"

I moved to the window, looked out at the compound. Armed guards patrolled the perimeter. This place was a fortress.

And I was trapped inside it.

"Your father called," Albert said behind me. "Twenty times. You should probably answer."

"I have nothing to say to him."

"Eva—"

"He is dying and he did not tell me!" I whirled around. "Instead of spending his last months actually being my father, he arranged for me to be traded like livestock. So no, I do not want to talk to him."

"He loves you."

"He has a hell of a way of showing it."

My phone buzzed. I pulled it out, saw a text from an unknown number.

*Pretty dress for a pretty corpse. See you at the wedding... if you make it that far.*

An image loaded below the text. My stomach turned to ice.

It was a photo of me. Taken tonight. Through the window of this room.

Someone had followed us here. Someone was watching right now.

"Albert," I whispered, holding out the phone.

He read the message, and his whole body went rigid. He crossed to the window in two strides, yanked the curtains closed.

"Stay away from the window." He was on his phone. "Jacks. We have got a breach. Someone is watching the compound... Yes, now... Get everyone on patrol. Nobody gets in or out."

He grabbed a gun from the desk drawer, checked the chamber.

"What is happening?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Someone wants you dead before the wedding." He looked at me, and for the first time I saw something besides cold control. Fear. "Which means someone does not want this alliance to happen."

"The cartel?"

"Maybe. Or someone inside the clubs who wants the war to continue." He moved closer. "Eva, I need you to tell me the truth. Is there anyone in the Reapers who would want to sabotage this marriage?"

"I... I do not know. Maybe. Some of the old guard hate the idea of peace."

"Names."

"I do not have names! I am not exactly included in club business!"

His phone rang. He answered, listened, his face going darker with each second.

"Understood." He hung up. "They found a sniper nest two hundred yards out. Professional setup. Whoever this is, they are not playing games."

My legs felt weak. I sat on the edge of the bed.

"Someone tried to kill me," I said, the reality finally sinking in. "Someone actually wants me dead."

Albert knelt in front of me, forcing me to meet his eyes.

"Listen to me. I am not letting that happen. You are staying here, in this room, under guard until the wedding. After that, you do not go anywhere without me. Understood?"

"You cannot protect me every second—"

"Watch me." His hands gripped my knees, possessive and fierce. "You are mine to protect now, Eva. And I do not lose what is mine."

There it was again. That word. Mine.

Like he had already claimed me.

My phone buzzed with another message.

*Two days, princess. Tick tock.*