Page 95 of The Merciless King

Gianna sits quietly in the passenger seat as I drive the Ferrari through the dark streets back to Scarsdale.

Behind us, her guards follow us, and I wish they would fuck off. I wish I could have her to myself for a few hours and just be me.

Braxton Ashford.

I wish I could tell her that I didn’t mean what I said. That being with her, despite the situation, and having her in my arms are some of the happiest moments of my life.

It makes no sense.

But looking into her eyes, I see love.

I see hope.

I see a future with a woman I could love.

I wish for a lot of damn things, but none of them are possible. Ten minutes later, something in me snaps.

I pull off the side of the road and Gianna gasps. “What are you doing? Braxton.”

“Stay in the car.” I order her and climb out.

I stride to the black SUV and James rolls down the window.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I need you two to fuck off!” I demand. “I need an hour alone with my fucking date. Go.”

James shakes his head.

I pull my gun out of the back of my pants and point it at his head.

“Either you do it or her father does.” James shrugs, unperturbed.

Fuck these gangsters. I want to kill them all.

“I’m happy to do it.” I warn him.

“Jesus.” Guard number two—I don’t know his name—grunts.

I heard Gianna’s door open and James glares harder at me. I put myself in his shoes. He’s right. He can’t just show up at the Baldassare estate without her, so I need to get creative.

“Park a block away and she will message you when we are near. One hour.” I pull my gun away. But not completely.

“You going to kill her?” he asks point blank.

“No, I’m going to fuck her, and I don’t want you perverts watching.”

Guard Two makes some groaning noises in the passenger seat while James shakes his head.

“No one wants her more alive than me.” I glance at the Ferrari and watch as she climbs out. “Gianna, get back in the damn car!”

“Fine,” James says. “One hour. You hurt her. I will kill you.”

“One hour,” I say, tucking the gun away, ignoring his threat. He wouldn’t be able to kill me if he tried.

He has no idea I’m a US Marine.

Although a bullet in the back of my head isn’t something I could stop.

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