Page 17

CHAPTER 17

RAVEN

I ’m sprawled on the couch, my feet propped up on the coffee table, when Madison bursts in from her room, a bag of chips in one hand and her phone in the other. She plops down next to me, crunching loudly.

“So,” she starts, her voice dripping with faux casualness, “how was the Hellfire Club ? Give me all the juicy details. Did they have, like, a literal fire pit? Or was it more metaphorical? Because I’m picturing Dante’s Inferno but with champagne and leather whips.”

I laugh despite myself, tucking my legs under me. “No fire pit. Just a lot of rich people doing things they’d never admit to in public. Honestly, it was… weirdly classy. Marble floors, columns, murals of naked gods. And yeah, a dungeon. Complete with spectators.”

Madison’s eyes widen, and she leans in closer. “Dungeon? As in… dungeon dungeon? With chains and stuff?”

“Chains, whips, St. Andrew’s crosses—the whole nine yards,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant, but my cheeks burn just thinking about it. “It was… intense.”

“Intense? Girl, you’re underselling it. I would’ve died. Or at least passed out from sheer excitement,” Madison says, popping another chip into her mouth. “So, did you and Kirk, y’know… join in on the fun? Or were you too busy playing detective?”

I groan, running a hand through my hair. “We didn’t join in . We were there to figure out what Giscard’s up to, not role-play as BDSM enthusiasts.”

Madison raises an eyebrow. “But you’re not denying that you thought about it.”

“I’m not not denying it,” I mutter, which makes her cackle.

“Okay, but seriously,” she says, her tone shifting to something softer. “How are you feeling about Kirk? Like, for real. I saw the way you looked at him when he picked you up. You’re not fooling anyone with that ‘it’s just a fake engagement’ act.”

I bite my lip, staring at the wall. My chest tightens, and I can’t quite find the words. Madison knows me too well. She’s seen me through every heartbreak, every bad decision, every time I swore off men forever. But Kirk… he’s different. And that terrifies me.

“I don’t know, Maddy,” I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper. “He’s… not like anyone else. But I can’t—I can’t let myself fall for him. Not again. Not after everything.”

Madison reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Hey, I get it. Trust me, I do. But maybe this time it’s different. Maybe he’s different.”

Before I can respond, my phone buzzes on the table. I pick it up, and my stomach does a backflip when I see Kirk’s name on the screen. I swipe to answer.

“Hey,” I say, trying to sound casual.

“Raven,” his deep voice rumbles through the phone, sending a shiver down my spine. “I was wondering if I could pick you up for dinner tonight. I… need to talk to you.”

My heart skips a beat. “I… yeah. I guess. I mean, we are engaged,” I add with a weak laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

There’s a pause on the other end, and I can almost feel the weight of whatever he’s not saying. “Good. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up before I can reply. I stare at the phone, my stomach in knots.

“Well?” Madison asks, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“He wants to take me to dinner,” I say, my voice shaky. “To talk.”

Madison whistles low. “Sounds serious. You good?”

I nod, but I’m not sure I believe it myself. My head’s a mess, and my heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest. Whatever Kirk wants to talk about, I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it. And I definitely don’t know if I’m ready to admit, even to myself, how much he’s already gotten under my skin.

I’m standing on the sidewalk outside my apartment building, fidgeting with the strap of my bag, when the sleek silver Aston Martin pulls up. The engine purrs like a contented panther, and I roll my eyes. Of course, Kirk would drive something that screams look at me . The door swings open, and there he is—Kirk Stevens, billionaire industrialist, alien warrior, and the man who’s been screwing with my head since the moment I met him.

He steps out of the car, all confidence and sharp angles, and my stomach does a little flip. He’s wearing that stupidly perfect suit again, the one that makes him look like he stepped out of a magazine. His golden eyes lock onto mine, and before I can even think to say hello, he’s pulling me into a kiss that’s just soft enough to make me forget, for a second, why I’m so mad at him.

“Hi,” he says when he finally pulls back, his voice low and warm.

I blink up at him, my heart racing. “Hi. Uh, what was that for?”

He smirks, his hand still on my waist. “Just keeping up appearances. You never know who’s watching.”

“Right,” I mutter, though the heat in my cheeks says otherwise. I slide into the passenger seat, and he closes the door behind me with a solid thunk. The interior smells like leather and something faintly metallic—alien tech, probably. I lean back, trying to calm my nerves, as he gets behind the wheel and peels away from the curb.

We drive in silence for a while, the city lights blurring past. I’m about to break the quiet with some sarcastic remark when he pulls up to a chic little fusion restaurant in Soho. The name— Nebula —is spelled out in glowing letters above the door.

“This your place?” I ask as he steps out and opens my door.

“One of them,” he says, offering me his hand. I take it, trying to ignore the way his fingers feel against mine. “I thought we could talk somewhere private.”

Inside, the restaurant is all sleek lines and soft lighting. The hostess gives Kirk a knowing smile and leads us to a secluded booth in the back, away from prying eyes. The table is already set with plates of food I didn’t order—sushi, noodles, some kind of curry that smells amazing.

I slide into the booth, eyeing him warily. “Okay, spill. What’s going on? You’re being even more mysterious than usual, and that’s saying something.”

He sits across from me, his expression serious. “Giscard’s plans are worse than we thought.”

“Worse than a secret alien sex dungeon?” I quip, but the look on his face shuts me up. “Okay, what is it?”

“He’s building a space station,” Kirk says, his voice low. “A refuge for the elite when the catastrophe hits.”

I freeze, a piece of sushi halfway to my mouth. “Catastrophe? What catastrophe?”

“The one that’s going to wipe out civilization as we know it,” he says, like he’s talking about the weather. “Giscard’s planning to trigger it, and his little Ark ship is the only way off this rock.”

I gape at him, my stomach churning. “Space stations? A catastrophe that’s going to wipe out civilization as we know it? And Giscard really is a shape-shifting alien after all?” My voice pitches higher with every word. “Wow. That’s… a lot.”

“I’m afraid I’m not done,” Kirk says, leaning closer. “We need to get married by the end of the week if we want a chance to stop him.”

I almost drop my chopsticks. “Married? As in, married married?”

He nods, his golden eyes boring into mine. “It’s the only way I can get on that Ark ship and stop this before it starts.”

I sit back, trying to process what he’s saying. My mind is racing, but all I can focus on is the way he’s looking at me—like I’m the only thing that matters in the entire galaxy.

“Kirk,” I say slowly, “do you even hear yourself right now? This is insane.”

“I know,” he says, reaching across the table to take my hand. “But it’s the only way. And… I need you, Raven. I can’t do this without you.”

This is insane. Absolutely insane. But then again, so is everything else that’s happened since I met him. And somehow, looking into his eyes, it doesn’t feel like a question.

It feels like the only thing that makes sense.

But then it hits me. If we’re going to pull this off—if we’re going to convince Giscard that Kirk Stevens and Raven Silver are the real deal—there’s one glaring problem we haven’t addressed. I lean forward, my chopsticks hovering over a piece of sushi I’ve completely forgotten about.

“All right, if we’re doing this, we’re going to have to do it right,” I say, my voice steady. “I mean, Giscard is going to want to make sure that we’re being authentic, isn’t he? Even if he’s not on the guest list?”

Karc chuckles, the sound low and rumbling. “I’m more than willing to open my wallet and spend on a lavish wedding.”

I give him a look, one that says don’t be an idiot . “Don’t be stupid. I’m not talking about that. It’s a fake wedding anyway.” I pause, biting my lip. “What I mean is our families. We need to meet each other’s families.”

The words hang in the air, and I can feel the dread creeping in. My parents. God, my parents . Just the thought of introducing Karc to them makes me want to crawl under the table and hide. I shudder, and it’s not because of the restaurant’s air conditioning.

“And believe me,” I add, my voice dropping to a mutter, “I wish I was an orphan right about now.”

Karc raises an eyebrow, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. “Why would you say such a thing?”

I sigh, leaning back in the booth and crossing my arms. “My parents are… let’s just say unsophisticated. Unkind people might call them hillbillies.”

His lips twitch, and for a second, I think he’s going to laugh. But then he leans forward, his expression serious. “Raven, I’m sure I’ll get along with your parents just fine.”

I snort, shaking my head. “Famous last words,” I warn him. “You’ve met Giscard’s kind of rich and sleazy. You’re about to meet my kind of rich and sleazy. Trust me, it’s a whole different level of awkward.”

His hand reaches across the table, his fingers brushing against mine. The contact is light, but it’s enough to make my heart skip a beat. “I’m not worried,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “If they’re your family, they can’t be all bad.”

I give him a wry smile. “Oh, they’re bad,” I mutter. “But hey, if you survive dinner with the Silvers, you can probably handle anything Giscard throws at you.”