It was supposed to be my last night as a single woman. My girlfriend and I were supposed to go shopping and she even had a surprise for me before I was off to Italy. I was so excited to hit the city for the last time. I was leaving tomorrow and wanted one last shopping trip with my Eve in our city, something we never did enough but was well appreciated. My bags were packed. My bedroom was cleared out, my bills were paid, and all my ducks were in a row. I was nervous but equally excited to start this new chapter in my life. I was ready for my flight in the morning and it was all going to play out perfectly, I was sure of it. I made a special itinerary for my morning so I was on time and knew exactly what to do, when to do so, and at what time. My passport was laying on top of my luggage and even had a plastic bag covering it so it would remain dry in case of rain. The only thing that wasn't predictable was the Seattle rain and that man. The first glance of him, simply sitting there, legs apart, hands bracing himself on the counter, and total confidence, was what drew me in. His hair was a wild mess but somehow every strand was perfectly placed to frame his Greek-god-like features. His whole persona spoke volumes but not as much as his words. I drank and danced with the man whenever he wanted and however long he said to; I swayed my hips for him and spoke my heart out to him. I was at his beck and call and was too struck for me to notice and or care. He threw me on his motorcycle and drove me to the hotel booked by my future husband to relax before the flight in the morning. He made me feel more than Matthew ever could, he made me feel alive and free. The woman I was with him felt freer than any bank account access and a man in a suit ever could. Plus I liked his leather cut more. 

I lived in Everett Washington all my life, I grew up in a small town, homeschooled all my life, and sheltered. I was so very sheltered but I didn't mind. My life was perfect. The type of perfect I craved for with lists, itineraries, and most important, rules. I loved my life, it was simple but I was never the type of woman who needed more. In Everett, the only transportation in and out of the city was by train or ferry therefore I never even left Evertt all too much. I loved my parents dearly and never wanted to cause any anger or even disappointment from them, so I was the perfect daughter. I excelled in school and would participate in as many extracurriculars as I possibly could. I was fluent in Italian and Spanish, I was a master of chess, I adored painting, and I loved to read. I was naturally very talented in the piano, horseback riding, debate, and spelling. I molded myself to be the perfect daughter, woman but more predominant a wife. I was raised to be respectful, watchful, and honest. Since I was an only child I was especially told to always tell what I am thinking and never lie. I was fairly good at this simple rule because I felt rewarded by not lying, I could almost say clean, pure, and as if I was doing right by others. Except when it came to Matthew because I could never say what I felt, or lack of feeling towards him. I dressed appropriately and spoke accordingly. I even went so far as to always be pure and innocent in the ways the rest of the world was not. Marriage was always my end goal, and one faithful day I found Matthew, my parent’s perfect suitor, plan, and business agreement. 

The day I met Matthew my life was changed, and it all started out so innocently. Mother wanted me to take a train to Seattle to relay a document to my father who worked in Seattle. She said it was urgent and to leave as soon as possible. I knew that as soon as I changed clothes, curled my hair, and put on light makeup, I was out the door. The train took almost two hours that day and then I started my walk to my father's workplace. He worked in a huge office building which he ran; they were lawyers but so much more as well. He had cops on his side of the law and knowledge no single man or company should have. He had money and power, and he was well respected. He was smart and by all means, the most cunning man I have ever known. I was right about to pull open the door when it swung open and Matthew appeared. Clean-shaven, tall, and in a suit that could only be tailored to fit him. He had kind eyes that pierced my soul and honey-kissed skin that spoke of his love in the sun. He wasn't overpowering with his muscle but enough for me to take a step back from and gasp by the stunning sight. He had pearly white teeth and dragon fruit touched lips, so pink they made his smile brighter by comparison. He was holding a phone to his ear and rings on his fingers. Once I fell from my daze I apologized as quickly as I could muster. “I am so sorry sir, I wasn’t looking where I was going! Oh, I hope you are okay?!” His smirk was as quick as the breath that left my mouth. “My apologies, dear.” His words were like silk flowing through the air, they melted my heart but what was the real icing on the cake was the pet name. Oh dear, I had fallen for the looks of this man faster than was planned. 

Oh yes, this was not my plan, but strategically planned by my father. My father's firm had been trying to expand over the last year but was having little success until an Italian "Mercato Azionario" company expressed interest in the partnership. The process was going on for the past three months, and that day it was finally settled. In my hand was the final drawn-up contract of the merging. I was supposed to deliver it to my father in order to sweeten the deal for my father’s company. It was never a mistake that he left the document at home that day but it was programmed by my father. I was the cherry on top of the secret handshake; away from the prying eyes of the partners and employees but just Matthew Russo and himself. My father arranged our marriage to not only give me a suitable husband but in case their contract fell through he would always have a tie to the company through our marriage. When I put all the pieces together I wasn’t as sad as I should have been, my father was a smart man and was not only using his resources but he would secure me a future. 

Matthew and I met every day until he would have to leave. We would chat over coffee and breakfast like old acquaintances, we would share our earliest memories with each other as if it was always right to share everything with each other. I would visit him at my father’s work while he was setting down for a few months. I would bring him a coffee if I visited early or a bottle of wine we would share if I visited later. He took me out on the perfect dates and would always order. He would take care of my every need if he saw one and he would never ask to do so. He was a very nice man, maybe a little too straightforward and businessy but if I had to give up my laughter and choices then I would, for him. We grew closer, it didn’t feel too forced but more of friends on a deadline, except we weren’t friends, he was going to be my husband, my partner, my man one day and I had to see it as such. He wanted me and made it quite clear by telling me so whenever he kissed me goodnight or saw me in the right light. I knew how he felt for me but I wasn’t sure how I saw or even felt for him. He would speak of my beauty as something only on the outside, and only skin deep. How my streaky blond hair held white in it and glowed too bright. My pale skin was strawberry-kissed with light freckles as if all the constellations left little notes of their stories. He would comment on my body in ways I never saw it as such “ … a body made for his hands, his eyes and his own…” I never saw my body as something someone else should own, but he made it feel as if I should cherish him for the type of “love and attention” he devoted to it. I knew I would have to fall in love with him, I wanted to marry, but marrying Matthew seemed forced. I wanted it though no matter the tears I shed at night to rid my brain of forced love. I knew if I wanted to marry Matthew I would have to love him, so that’s what I tried to do. He was going to leave for Italy in a few weeks and then I would have a week after he left to “get my head on straight” as my mother said and fly out to get married. 

Those last three weeks he was in Seattle were painfully fast, I never would have guessed that falling in love was harder than the movies portrayed it to be. We shared so much in common I thought it would be even easier than the books or even how history painted it to be. It was not easy but exponentially hard, the more I saw him the more I worried I couldn’t make the marriage work. Until my mother gave me a piece of advice that calmed my brain from the hurricane it was. She said, “Cassandra, you can never make love work, it is not a test you can figure out or study for. You can’t force yourself to be in love. A marriage of convenience is what I had, I was too young and far too foolish to fight back, but it happened. I fell for your father just as I know you will Matthew. You will have a bright and burning love with him once you stop trying, and trust me it will make your world whole, be patient and be ready because when it happens you will be struck dumb with it.” After that talk with new knowledge in my mind and a new look on life, I knew it would work. I needed to give it time. I was now fully ready to take Matthew as my husband and for myself to be his lawfully wedded wife. 

We enjoyed a private dinner on Matthew’s final night in Seattle, at one of Washington's most expensive restaurants. He escorted me to Canlis, where we had four-course meals and some of the finest red wine I'd ever tasted. Our conversation was lighthearted and easy, I even asked a question that was on my mind more than anything. It was during our third course of halibut, pork collar, striploin, porcini, and king trumpet when I asked “Why did you not ask to marry me or at least give me a wedding ring?” I looked into his blue eyes wantonly and hoped for a decent answer. He picked up his wine glass, took a sip and swallowed, lowered his gaze to my very naked ring finger, and quicked a smile. He set his glass down and then proceeded to get comfortable in his chair as if this conversation would last all night. “Would you rather be my fiancé or my wife?” I looked down at my bare finger and made up my answer but as soon as I looked at him, his eyes told me everything his mouth wouldn’t. I was going to answer when his eyes gleamed with knowledge of what I was going to say. I never answered his question because we both know I was made to be a wife and not a fiancé. After our dinner and dessert, he escorted me outside where he kissed me on the cheek and promised me a ring as soon as I made it to Italy in a week, and wished me a lovely evening. He called up his driver to deliver me home and then as quickly as the night he was gone. My hand was empty and not holding the hand of someone I might love, my cheek grew cold from the loss of connection, my heart grew weak and my face grew solemn. 

Day one of “getting my head on straight” I cried so hard I felt like I would use all the tissues in the house no matter how much my mother would try and comfort me. I was grieving as if I was going to die in a week, but the fact was that leaving my parents, who had been by my side for 23 years, was the death of me. I couldn't talk to my mother anymore, sitting on the living room floor with her hands wrapped in a blanket for no explicable reason, other than to talk with her only child. I couldn't go into my father's study and play chess or converse while annotating old literature. I couldn't recite previous passages from books I'd read to bring a brief grin of pride to my parents' faces anymore. But, more significantly, I wouldn't be able to isolate myself in my studio and paint my entire range of emotions and sensations. I didn't even have any energy to eat anything, and by the end of the day, I was too exhausted to pack any of my clothing or things and all that was left to do was sleep. Day two started off equally as bad. I slept in till eleven o'clock and lied in bed and stared up into oblivion. I asked questions that had no place being in my mind such as “Do I even know Matthew Russo?” or “Am I ready to be a wife and bear children for him one day?” I was ready and I did know him, I was simply scared so at 11:38 I decided I needed to pack up my belongings and prepare for my move. Day three and four I was talking to Eve on the phone non-stop, she had only met him a few times but she didn't think he could provide me with a full life of adventure and spontaneous decisions. I laughed with her and called her silly, but there was so much truth towards her words that I never gave her credit for; simply because I didn't know how much I craved those decisions, adventure, and that adrenaline rush. 

On day five I saw the home that was filled with old memories for the last time, from the etchings in the wooden door frame of my height and age. The lamp that I would tell stories around to my father in the middle of the night when mother thought I was asleep. I even stared at the refrigerator clean of any photo of me or family cards, my parents thought that my accomplishments should stand out by themselves and not demand attention over a metal box. I looked at the corner in the living room where I would hide away while my parents were busy. I walked into my art studio and took a deep inhale of all the old painting fumes that I could never get rid of no matter what cleaner I tried or my mother bought. I laid on the floor of my room remembering all of the stories that I would tell myself because I had no friends till I was 19 and that was Eve. Even with our friendship, her living in Seattle took its own toll. We planned a girl’s night out as soon as I made it to Seattle. Matthew had so graciously paid for a hotel by the airport so I wouldn't have to wake up any earlier than absolutely needed. We planned on a huge shopping spree as soon as I arrived in Seattle on Friday morning. My flight was going to be on Saturday at 8:00 a.m. I was planning on arriving at the hotel on Friday at one o’clock, then Eve would pick me up and we would shop our little hearts out. Day six came as fast as all the others and before I knew it I was hugging my parents as hard as I could, keeping all my tears at bay before the taxi drove me to the ferry. I wished my father much success in the business. My mother was less than just a fair-well wish. I hugged and kissed her cheeks as if I never would again. “I love you so much mother, and I am so nervous and excited for this new life; I will start living as soon as I arrive. I will miss you so much and constantly, and I will always be your little girl no matter the distance between us.” She cried at my declaration and swore to never let me go. But she had to and before I could rid my eyes of the burning sensation of redness of tears, I was on the ferry heading straight towards my last night as a single woman. 

I swung open the hotel door as soon as I heard the knock. Giggling as I padded towards the peephole to see one of the most gorgeous girls with the personality of fire, I have ever encountered. “Eveeee!” I screeched as I had her in a hug that had my hands wrapping around her body almost twice. “Cass! My god, you look H-O-T!” I blushed at the compliment and instantly lowered my gaze to the floor to see her in the shiniest black high heels as well as the tallest. I quickly shot my eyes up in question with a hand on my hip and eyebrow raised. “What? I can't wear high heels now?” she paused as soon as she spoke the words, a small glint in her eyes telling me more of the story. “Sooo, I am guessing we are not going shopping?” I asked in faux questioning. “Well…” she began as she stepped out of the doorway and retrieved a humongous black duffle bag hidden from the right. “I thought we could dress up, go to a club, dance, drink… you know? Have the best night ever as your last!” My internal sighing was like a nonstop brake screeching in the back of my mind. “Eve, you know I don't drink and have never even stepped foot in a bar or danced a foot in my life!” I was thinking of all the ways my parents would be disappointed in my choice of friend, and her life choices, and myself for considering her choices. “I won’t even know what to wear,” I said as a point of my lack of preparation for this. “I know, I know! See that's what the duffle bag is for, I brought you dresses, shoes, makeup, and the best part SHOOTERS!” My eyes bugged out of my head at the fact that she was caring booze so willingly. I quickly grabbed her left arm and dragged her into my room before any prying eyes could make light of her enthusiasm. “I don't know, I think-” “NO. NO, don't think Cass just feel!” I was definitely not going to love tonight as much as I officially thought but, a bar and dancing with my friend wouldn’t be the worst idea ever, right? 

We started getting ready after over two hours of catching up. As if she heard the sound of a buzzer, Eve sprang into action like a racehorse as soon as I informed her I trusted her for my makeup and outfit. She dashed into the kitchen, snatched one of the stools, carried it into the bathroom, and instructed me to sit down and close my eyes. She even went so far as to change what was under my dress for reasons I didn't think would matter but she said that my classic white was “too innocent”. Eve said as soon as she shoved scraps of material my way to “Put them on, you look good and match on the inside you feel confident and beautiful on the outside!” I rolled my eyes but was excited to feel confident. Once they were on, I hate to admit how right she was; I looked good and felt untouchable. I felt for the first time in maybe ever an all-consuming level of confidence. She quickly snatched a black mini dress and proceeded to throw it towards me. I grabbed it as it hit my front and looked as bewildered as one might look towards an extraterrestrial. She shrugged her shoulders a bit and spoke of softness and flowers as if this dress wasn't trying to seduce the devil himself. “What?! I have never seen you in anything skin tight and I know this leather will pair great with your silky blond hair! And, don't you dare take back your word of trust, you said you trust me, so d*mn well trust me.” I thought about her words and felt a shudder reach all the way to my white painted toes. I gave her a small smile and received a small encouraging one in return. “Okay, Eve. I do, I do trust you. You're right, I need to branch out more.” I quickly changed into the most expensive piece of leather I have ever put on, and stared back at the stranger in the mirror. She had a bare face, full of imperfections but to the outside world, she was flawless. She wore a dress that hugged her body like a rattlesnake constricting its scales. Her waist looked unnaturally small compared to her hips, and a pang of pride in her eyes. She had a small smile and big doe eyes full of hope and excitement for the night. Before I could open the door Eve burst in and screeched. “CASS! O-M-G! You look hot! Those over-size mom jeans you wear do you no justice! Here, have a shot, take off some of those nerves that are bubbling at your seams.” Before I knew she opened up a shooter that smelled of wildberry and watermelon and handed it to me before screaming “CHEERS! We are here for a good time, not a long time!” I smiled and welcomed the stinging vodka down my throat like an acid trail of extra confidence. Here we go Seattle!

After four and a half hours, a half-bag of Skinny Pop Popcorn, two Gatorades, and four more shots, we were finally ready to go. I don't know how much talking and laughing were in those four hours but way more than any getting ready time. It was still fairly early, only being 7:17, so we decided to drink more water to rid ourselves of most of the alcohol we consume and be ready to dance the night away. I drank a lot more water than Eve because I was not used to drinking and I already had three shots! I was feeling happy, light, and at ease with all my problems and parents’ worrying and mean faces. I had a tight black leather dress that only reached mid-thigh when I shoved it down, black high heels; not too tall because I wanted to be able to walk. Even though my mother has had me practicing in high heels since 18 and was now my shoe of choice whenever I had to make an extra grand appearance. I had my hair curled in beachy waves to give off the “soft angel persona”, I had smoky eyes to match my dress and my shoes. I had refused for her to put on any red lipstick even though she said it would bring out the red Louis Vuitton, I wouldn't allow it because I didn't like that it would leave a red rim around my cup, every time I took a sip. I was ready and feeling confident, two things that I always had to fake in my life but now came more naturally than all my giggles that spilled from my mouth as an overflowing waterfall of joy and entertainment. Eve finally stepped out of the bathroom finished with her dress and the last touches she wanted to complete before we left, even though I am pretty sure she just wanted to take a shot or two more, gosh knows she has them. She stepped out, tan skin as dark as a vanilla and chocolate milkshake, eyes popping out with the forest green eyeshadow with sparkles she used to match her dress. Her dress is the color of a forest in a book only described to be dark, beautiful, and utterly magical. Her hips swayed as she moved towards me. Hot pink lips and a smirk to tie the look in all together. Her naturally wavy hair tamed down to look like a cocky lion's mane behind her. “Eve… you look absolutely stunning.” I gave her a smile and held out my hand for her to take so we could walk out hand in hand to the taxi that she called 20 minutes ago. After turning off the lights we were waiting for the elevator to ding and I hugged her arm to me and whispered “I am so excited.” I had to whisper the statement because saying it out loud would make me blush with excitement. She kissed my cheek lightly and spoke only the truth, “You deserve this, and I am only happy to have made it happen babes.” 

30 minutes later we were stepping in the line of my first bar. The wait looked to be forever, but a small forever I would cherish! I was just about to start a conversation with Eve when a huge man and broad shoulders bumped into me. “Oh! I am so sorry sir!” I looked up to see a huge man with green eyes so sharp the emeralds froze me on the spot. “Come on, I let you in.” I must have strained a muscle in my neck. I flipped it so fast at Eve in question; she quickly patted my hand in reassurance. “Thank you so much!” I blew out a noise to her, to chastise her for her lacking a stranger danger policy. The man led us and I whisper-yelled “I am not going to follow that man once we are inside!” She mumbled in agreement; but alone and behold we followed the man to his table because he had an “important person for the blond to meet”. I held on to Eve for dear life because I was not meeting a stranger alone, let alone an important person. If I wasn't sobered up five minutes ago I sure as heck was now. We passed the bar of loitering college students with neon-colored dresses and shirts, we even passed the back corners of the club and were still following the man when we arrived at the staircase. I waited for Eve to ask the first question so I could follow up with my million, but she never asked and I never received an answer. He stood at the bottom of the stairs taking a position with his legs spread across and his arms in front to display his muscles across his chest and arms. He looked at us in question as if to ask why we stopped when his gaze zeroed in on me. “Blond, go up the stairs and have a meeting with the boss.” I gave him a huge gasp and a step backward in horrendous shock. His face spoke with no emotion, eyes not yielding to my helpless power. He leaned in as if to whisper just to me but spoke loud enough for Eve to hear. “Go, go, I have a feeling you might like him.” I thought to myself in all the worlds of how much I don't want to go and meet him, but before I spoke a word, my legs were moving up the stairs. They were strong and firm as if I wasn't making a mistake. They powered me up and past the sign of VIP, past another man that looked familiarly like the one downstairs, and straight to a double door. I didn't wait to pound my fist on the door like I normally would have, because fear was in my heart and nervousness was on my tail. I swung open the door and there sitting at the VIP bar was him. 

Eyes so light they looked as if sunshine were passing through honey. Skin is kissed effortlessly by the sun and rays. His hair a wild mess but somehow every strand was perfectly placed to frame his Greek-god-like features. A wild beard that was attached to a clean face and big lips. His jawline was like none of the college boys we passed downstairs but staring me back as a man. The first glance of him, simply sitting there, legs apart, hands bracing himself on the counter, and total confidence, was what drew me in. The second glance was that we were the only ones in the room. Fear prickled at the back of my neck like icicles falling on my rising temperature. He must have sensed my fight or flight moment kicking like a predator to his prey because the next thing I knew was a booming laugh echoing through the walls louder than the pounding music below. My smile appeared like a vixen in the night, quick as a cheetah and lingering for longer than needed. “I am so sorry for this type of introduction darling, my name is Lukas, owner of this club, and I was told that the most beautiful girl was waiting in line at my club and that simply won’t stand.” I looked around the room to come up with an answer, anything to say back; but nothing came to my mind not even a minute later when his piercing eyes must have broken me out of my questioning. “My name is Cassandra, but I go by Cass… So… I met you now, and it was truly a pleasure to meet you but I think I am going downstairs now to my friend…” I slowly started backing up with my hand behind my back so I could make a quick escape. He stood up so fast I barely even had the chance to blink before he started stalking towards me, like a bullet on a target, except, I was the target. I felt trapped, the wall to my back and a danger at my front. I never could have taken a step to move and not because I was alone but because I didn't know what his intentions were with me. Before any words could form in my mouth we were toe to toe, but he was about a foot away from me. His presence made it seem so much closer and me so much smaller. Weirdly not small as in weak but small as in I could fit perfectly in his hand. Instead of Matthew's rings, he had callous hands, scars that told stories more than just marketing. His suit was all black and not a crease in sight, even though he was just sitting down. His presence was huge, easily 6’5, and for not being a small height either it intimidated me till I met his shining eyes. 

His eyes, not danger stricken or power-hunger like Matthews might seem, but bold and soft at the same time. His velvet brown eyes were the same color as the underbelly of a great oak tree; or rich soil that spoke of the love that was put in it. So brown in the low lighting of the room screamed black back to me. “Please, have a drink with me, Cass.” He phrased it as a question but it was anything but, more of a soft demand. He leaned in, and I would be lying if I said I didn't flinch and didn't shut my eyes. I would also be lying if I said that just because my eyes were closed didn't mean that I didn't take a long inhale of his scent. Not the soft flirty scent that Matthew wears but a smoky, tobacco kiss with a hint of cedarwood aroma. I barely leaned in to take another inhale before I could stop myself, pressing my front into his already folded self. As if his gravitational pull broke my equilibrium and pulled me like a string on a puppet back to the master. ‘OMG. Did I just smell another man, compare him to Matthew? And like his smell more than Matthew’s artificial expense sent? Can you even like a smell? What am I doing? He's a stranger!’ my sub-conscience was screaming volumes at me. As if sensing my metal quarry he whispered as if it was a sentence for me to keep, “Just a drink darling, you will be with your friend before you know it.” I nodded my head before I could process a word. ‘How well do you even know Matthew Russo? He's your parents' project; you are just eye candy to him anyway.’ Right now my heart and mind were fighting too hard for me to process anymore and my sub-conscience had to kick in with its nagging voice of reason. 

Lukas’s eyes were no longer those of a tree or soil, but those of Mount Olympus' golden gates. Our drink turned into two before I realized I needed to stop and drink water for the remainder of our talk. He made me laugh and told me things that I had only imagined. Adventures I'd only read about in novels, and an epic existence I'd only seen fit to call a king's. I knew more about him than I did about myself, especially once he began making accurate predictions about my personal life. Even my parents would not have been as accurate as he was. After an hour of talking with him, I had to finally respond to Eve's voicemails and texts. She threatened to call the cops if they refused to let her up to the VIP area. I called her again, but she was too busy to answer, so I left a brief message and text thanking her for making my evening great, by choosing to come to the bar tonight. Lukas and I talked and talked and at one point I started to get sleepy when he asked me to dance. “Get up!” he demanded, “dance for me darling” he ordered with a boyish grin that he wore better than any article of clothing. We chatted for several hours in late last night and then into the morning. When I was going to text Eve, Lukas informed me that he had contacted his driver and had delivered her home many hours earlier. I thanked him profusely and was pleased to observe the beaming grin he sported just for me. That night, I never mentioned Matthew to him. However, at 5:32 p.m. I checked my phone and recalled that my dreaded flight was leaving in less than three hours. I started to panic at the thought of missing my future flight, and not just because it was important to my parents but because I knew if I didn't get on that flight for a reason less than death; I would never be forgiven. I told LukasI had to go no matter how much like acid it tasted saying it out loud, especially to him. But I did and no matter the reason I had to get on the flight, and after tonight it was all just for my parents. No longer a marriage of becoming love. Nor one of convenience, it was now only a marriage for my parents and their future ambitions. 

Lukas jumped into action and led me down the quiet stairs of the deserted nightclub to an underground parking lot. I didn't bother to question but let him take charge instead. I was quiet, expecting for his driver to take me to the hotel but when we arrived at an all-black and shiny old Harley motorcycle I stopped dead in my tracks. He must have sensed this coming because over the last almost ten hours Lukas knew me more than anyone else. He knew I would never get on death's wheels willingly, so he let me have my moment for him to change into a leather cut. I knew of his motorcycle club but when the back spoke the word of “President” I let out a gasp. He made a self chuckling noise and swung a great leg over as if he was born on the machine. “There is no way Lukas! I trust you but not with my life!” My voice echoed like a lie speaking back to me. Because I did trust him, with my life in his scared and big hands. “Darling, the looks you gave me of everything I spoke of adventure was like you were bred to have it. This is the rush you want, the dangerous decisions and choices that you yearn for even if you don’t speak them out loud. Now get that dress hiked up, and throw a leg over.” He had a hand stretched out and a smirk on his face. He was the apparent devil I was wearing this dress for. But when the devil smiles just for you, makes you laugh, and swears to water your growing seeds of adventure and danger with all the water he has to offer, is he even a devil anymore? I followed his instructions because he was my adrenaline high, regardless of how long it lasted. That awakening morning, staring over his broad shoulders and holding his narrow waist filled with rough ridges of muscles was the peak of my existence. All of my years leading up to this point had brought me to him, and I couldn't have been more grateful.

The time was 7:30 a.m., and my flight was scheduled to depart in 30 minutes, but the greatest question and future choice hanging on my shoulders prevented me from entering the airport. Marrying a man I don't love or cherish was the source of my internal conflict. Or should I seek for my own Lukas lifestyle by living a life filled with adventure and risky decisions? In one night, one man transformed my life, saved my life, and would never let me have anything less for myself. My choice was simple really because I was never a foolish girl and living a simple life for 23 years was too long. 

The rumbling sound of a Harley was the last sound of my old life and the newest sound of my life that would be filled with rule-breaking, heart chasing, adventure, and danger. I swung my leg over because someone great once said was I was bred for this lifestyle. The lifestyle of a king. THE END!