Page 18 of Mafia Princess

“Not a problem,” I reply, keeping my eyes to the front.

“Are we home?” The one in the thigh-high boots whines.

“We are. Here, let me help you,” Maya says quietly.

“The others can go, but you’re staying,” I command, my voice dripping with authority.

I can feel her eyes against my skin as the silence fills the air. I know she’s about to mouth off and get out anyway, so I beat her to it. I open my door and peel out of my seat, to stand outside her door in a matter of seconds.

“The rest of you leave. Me and my soon-to-be fiancé have some matters to discuss.” I wait until the three have stepped out of the back.

“I’m not discussing anything with you.” Maya extends her tanned leg to try to get out.

I reach down, grab a hold of her ankle, just above a tattoo of a delicate honey bee, and push her back in. Holding back a smirk, I seat myself next to her and slam the door shut. “You’re not going anywhere.”

She scoots as far away from me as humanly possible in the small space. Her anger brews behind her dark eyes, like a hurricane roaring in from the sea. I hear the doors lock. Thank you, Alfred. He takes off, leaving the others on the curb with their mouths hanging open.

“Are you for real?” Maya looks out the back window as the silhouettes of her friends become smaller and smaller.

“What were you hoping to achieve with murdering the two men at The Russian Lady?” I stare at her, knowing all too well she won’t answer my questions. I press the button to close the divider to give us some privacy.

“I only planned on killing one of them. Summer shot the other one.” She shrugs her shoulder with zero care in the world. She knows no one can touch her so it doesn’t matter if she confesses to me or not.

“Why?”

Her eyes widen. “Why not?”

I cast my gaze over her, taking note of the tattoos on show, that peek out from under her slinky dress, which has ridden up to show off her slender tanned legs. Her dark hair cascades in loose waves over her shoulder to her waist. She is a sight to behold. Pity that her foul mouth doesn’t match her beauty.

“Hasn’t your papa told you it’s rude to stare?” She throws my words back in my face.

“I do as I please.” I rub my chin, contemplating how I’m going to deal with her.

“News flash, so do I.” Defiant as ever.

“Not anymore, Principessa. You’re on my watch now. I say jump. you say how high.”

That has got her tongue-tied. She stares at me, her hostility rolling off her and crashing into my black heart like a tidal wave. Good. I’m glad I make her mad. Better she’s mad at me than anything else.

“I don’t just jump for anyone, Milan.” She spits my name like it has left a bad taste in her mouth.

“About that. Your little fuck buddy,” I pause, taking in her shocked expression at my knowledge of their silly escapade. “How attached to him are you?” I stretch my arm out across the backrest so it comes in contact with her shoulder. She doesn’t move away from my touch, and I feel a buzz of admiration. We may just be a match yet.

“What about him?” She shoots me a look I cannot decode.

My jaw clenches. “You’re not to fuck him until our engagement night.”

“Excuse me?” She twists in her seat to get a better look at the devil sitting next to her.

“Do not fuck him until our engagement night,” I say it slowly to let it sink in better this time.

“You can’t tell me who I can and can’t fuck.”

“I just did. If you touch him between now and next Saturday, I will mince him up and feed him to your beloved dogs.”

“What happens after our engagement night?” She shoots me an amused look, obviously thinking I’m bluffing.

“You can only fuck him while I watch.”

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