Page 63 of Their Princess

“Sure, but you’ve dragged this whole club into your shit and made this about our lives, not rank,” said Rafe.

“Our lives? You’re not part of us,” I said.

“Sas!” snapped Wilde. “I don’t want to be in debt to Don Parisi any more than you do. He’s got his thumb on all the criminal underworld in the Yuma Triangle, and we’ve just partnered up with him.”

“Almost,” started Rafe. “The deal is only final when there’s a ring on Adelina’s finger.”

Wilde held up his hand. “That deal is already made. All that’s left is to sign it and seal it. Got me?” Prez’s eyes bored into me, and I tried not to squirm. His ice-blue stare was so ghostly and haunting it sent chills up my spine.

He knew I was only planning to do this on paper. Fuck. Maybesomeonehad snitched on me about my little tryst withKaos last night, and my bet was Rafe. He had already been up my ass on everything else.

“I’m not talking about the arranged marriage,” said Rafe. “My goal is to keep her safe, and this will impede her safety.”

“Take a pill, man. We’ll keep her safe.” I dismissively waved a hand in the air.

She was locked in her bedroom, after all. Alive. Safe. At least, she was this morning.

Rafe cleared his throat and looked directly at Wilde. “The loan wouldn’t be?—”

“Exactly, a loan,” I said to Rafe. “Nothing comes free with the Mafia.”

“It’s money,” snapped Rafe. “My brother’s in the business to make money. Just like this little disorganized MC here.” He indicated the room and warehouse.

The man had balls. Time to knock him off his fucking high horse.

“Maybe”—I pinned him with an angry stare—“we should call it a dowry. We’re taking her off your hands.”

“I’m surprised you know what a dowry is,” Rafe said to me, “but not the point for the moment. The bigger issue than the money and the fact that dealing the Medellín Cartel will land us in the middle of a war.”

“They’re a thousand miles away,” I argued.

Rafe took a few steps forward and leaned onto the table with both hands, locking his sights on me. “Then how the fuck did the Rojas brothers end up in this warehouse yesterday?”

I leaned back in the chair, folding my arms over my chest.

“That’s what I thought,” Rafe said. “And you need to screw your head on straight,Vice Prez. Cuz if you don’t wake up and realize you’ve got a team here that’s got your back, you’re going to end up with a bullet between those eyes.”

“That a threat, motherfucker?” I planted my hands too and slowly stood. “Try it. Probably better than being married to the Mafia.”

Bou reached into her cut and yanked out two guns. “Enough. Both of you.” She pointed one at me and the other at Rafe, who backed off with his hands in the air.

“Sit down, Sas.” She motioned with the gun toward my chair. When I obeyed, she said, “Wilde?” She tipped her head away from the table.

And the fucking bastard stepped away with her.

That pussy must be made of gold.

She stowed her guns back into her cut—something that wouldn’t even stretch around her belly at the moment. They bent their heads together like they were having a romantic conversation, but this decision wasn’t just up to them. Though I couldn’t blame Wilde for only thinking about her and the kid. She did have nice tits, and damn... Had they gotten bigger recently?

That wasn’t what our MC was built on, making babies and shit. Sure, some of the guys had old ladies and kids, but they were on their way out. No longer making names for themselves. I wasn’t ready to give up the party life yet and get old.

Wilde bobbed his head, and Bou stepped back. Their conversation severed, and the rest of us had to live with the consequences.

“What we don’t need,” began Wilde, “is to make enemies of any cartel. We might have to trust el Tigre doesn’t want to run his business into the ground.”

I threw my hands up in the air. “Trust isn’t going to stop Cazador, Acero, and el Fantasma from showing up here in a couple of days with guns blazing.”

With his cold glare on me, Wilde continued, “Beans, what else you got?”

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