Page 6 of Their Princess

He didn’t faze me, though. “Business deal, Father. I have no say at all. You’re just one powerful man passing me to”—I hesitated, unable to call Sas powerful—“another man. I’m just a pawn in your game.”

My father raised his hand to me, and I jutted out my chin, waiting. Let the fucker do it. I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Instead of striking, he curled his open hand and pressed it down to his side, a sly smile spreading across his face. “I knew I should’ve brought Catalina.”

I hissed in a breath, and my jaw gaped open. “You wouldn’t dare. She’s sixteen.”

These men could hit me and yell at me, calling everything terrible in the dictionary, and I wouldn’t break. I wasn’t their bitch. But if he brought Catalina, she would never survive.

Rafe stepped between my father and me, acting like my personal shield, and he said something to Papà I didn’t hear. But quickly, I realized it wasn’t to protect me.

All eyes in the shop had shifted to the doors, and everyone stilled for a split second. Then I was sprawled out on the ground, a heavy body on top of me.

Adrenaline flushed through me, hot and quick, but everything was dark.

And dirty.

And loud—shouts and gunfire.

I blinked and peeled back my hair, trying to see through the haze. Then came another pop, more like a boom. It rattled my heart. With a small screech, I ducked my head, placing my arms over it.

Gunshots.

Who the fuck was shooting? Why?

“Stay down,” growled the man on top of me, and then the weight peeled off my body.

Whoever had thrown me to the ground, their boots scraped against the floor.

I tried to turn my head to see, but another round of gunshot sliced through the shop. Air whizzed by me, ruffling my skirt and sizzling the back of my thighs. Something, somewhere, shattered.

Were they shooting at me? I was in a room with a motorcycle club and the Mafia, so why the hell would they shoot at me?

More gunshots echoed in the shop, some from behind me. They were everywhere now. Rafe, the capos and the MC were all shooting toward where the original gunshots were fired. I didn’t know where the hell that was. But bullets rained down all around me, and I was laying in the middle of it all like a fucking chicken for slaughter. Fuck that!

Taking a deep gasoline- and oil-scented breath, I pushed to my feet, now hating the heels.Thanks, Mom.

I needed to run, but where was safe?

“Stay down!” yelled Rafe from somewhere in the shadows.

The fuck I was.

“Adelina!” yelled Rafe.

I sprinted through the door in the back into a kitchenette. The door swooshed behind me, but I kept moving toward the back door and yanked it inward.

Fuck the Mafia and MC.

Fuck this marriage contract.

Let them slaughter each other. Maybe then I would be free. I ran out into the daylight, immediately blinded again. My heels dug into the sand, and I was sinking. I kicked up dirt as I tried to sprint along the side of the building, ducking my head as another round of gunshots loosed inside the shop.

My shoes were pointless. I dropped to my knees and slipped them off, holding them by the heels in one hand. Crawling, I scrambled beside the building, trying to find shadows to hide in. I shot a look backward, but no one was following, so I slumped against the stone. Sweat beaded down from my temples and into my already blinded eyes. Tears leaked from the corners. I hated to cry, but sue a girl for being scared. I hugged my knees to my chest. The rocks cut into my ass, and when I looked down at my hand, one of the sharp rocks had drawn blood.

A man whistled at me. “Come here, little slut!”

Was I going to be everyone’s whore today?

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