Page 140 of Their Princess

Without another word, Sas swung his leg over his bike. The other bikers were getting on too, including the Prez, Graff, and Rafe.

I tried to meet Graff’s gaze, but Rafe was laughing with him. Neither of them looked at me. What the hell? Graff and Sas had taken what they wanted, and now, I was going to be left behind. Discarded like their used condom.

Taking a fistful of Sas’s T-shirt, I threw myself on the back of his bike, holding onto him before he could kick me off. Instead, he started up his bike without a word, and I tightened my grip as a rumble rippled through his chest.

Fucker was laughing at me.

“Ass!” I screamed, trying to get my voice to carry over the revving engines, but the attempt was fruitless.

Soon, Sas kicked away from the clubhouse, Wilde leading the pack as we rode out. I glanced back, realizing I hadn’t packed a thing. Then I supposed it didn’t matter, because I was going home.

Somehow, I was one of them. Included, though not welcomed. But of course, I had to be. I was Sas’s future wife. I was the Mafia princess to the Don’s den where they were headed.

I was a snitch. A spy. And that might kill me, even though I hadn’t told Papà anything about the operations here. Not much, anyway.

If my betrayal against my fiancé and his club didn’t land me dead, Sas’s cock surely would when he decided to use it on me again. And he would. I planned to make damn sure of it.

Chapter Thirty-One

SAS

Las Vegas wasn’t allthat different from LA, especially when walking into a place we didn’t belong. My boys stretched out around me as we entered the Parisi Hotel & Casino. The front entrance had so many businesspeople in their pressed suits or people with money, gold and jewels glinting.

I barked a laugh, drawing the attention of one woman who looked so uptight she might actually be walking around with a butt plug. Another parent turned a child away, and I wondered if they knew anything about the corruption that ran this place.

Wilde walked ahead, and we moved after him. But the way people gawked at us, someone watching might think we were a herd of buffalo. The black leather stuck out like a sore thumb against the plethora of middle-aged to senior gamblers looking for their next slot machine.

I checked over my shoulder at Adelina, wondering if she’d lost her clothes on our ride out to Las Vegas. Nope, she was still fully clothed.

Just to be the motherfucker they thought I was—well, maybe I actually was—I expanded my chest and strutted by with a smirk on my face.

Rafe moved away from the herd, and I almost called him back before he greeted the front-desk employee. How polite of him. I checked Adelina again, but she hadn’t moved from my side. Surprising, since I had definitely tried to throw her off my bike on a couple of those curves. Yet she had managed to hang on like she managed to stay glued to my fucking hip now.

“Is my brother in the penthouse?” asked Rafe, emphasizing his familial connection.

Near the bank of elevators, a group of suited men, some with earpieces, stood around. Capos, with one guy on the cell phone, checking us out over his shoulder. Based on that, Massimo already knew we had arrived. His guys had probably been watching us since the moment we crossed the Las Vegas city lines.

“Yes, Mr. Parisi,” said the employee at the front desk. “Let me call up and let him know you’re here.”

“He already knows.” Wilde peeled off toward the elevators.

We had left a few guys back at the bikes. We didn’t need the capos putting trackers on our rides. Hell, we already had Adelina and Rafe, and Massimo could probably locate both of them with a quick call. But knowing him, he may have chipped them like dogs.

Our own personal spies were probably sending everything back to the Mafia.

As we squeezed into the elevator, Graff and I entered last and stood shoulder-to-shoulder to block any of the capos from entering. I gave them a toothy grin as Rafe pressed the button for the top floor.

Soft piano music played overhead in the elevator. The floors clicked up.

With four large bikers in leather stuck inside the elevator, I would’ve thought the grease, sweat, and gasoline would overpower the small space. But Adelina’s soft scent filled mynose. It was subtle but overpowering to me. Like she was a magnet, my body pulled unconsciously toward her as I remembered how tight she’d been last night. How it’d felt to plow through her virginity. The way she had responded in my hands.

I fought the sensations and breathed through my mouth instead of my nose. I balled my hands into fists, keeping them at my sides so I didn’t throw her up against the elevator wall and fuck her ruthlessly.

Where had this insane need come from? I’d never been pussy whipped.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened.

Thank fuck!

---