Page 26 of Their Princess

With my anger and also my curiosity fueling me, I wanted answers about this business deal. But, if I was being honest, something else drew me to him. He’d ignored the question about tesoro. I had grown up around him, but he’d left for the Marines before I graduated high school. His absence and my maturing through college changed me, made me fill in the gap that Uncle Rafe left in Catalina’s life, and mine, all because Nonna finally told him how he didn’t belong in the Parisi family.

Regardless, I had grown up fast. And now, he knew little about how much of a dog on a bone I could be.

Perhaps later, though.

For the moment, I needed to figure out how not to be a prisoner inside this bedroom. And if it would be mine, I needed to order decorations. My clothes would arrive tomorrow, per Papà’s instructions to our staff, but I couldn’t deal with the scratchy blanket and drab everything.

My comfort, however, could wait. “Rafe, you’ve gotta get me out of this room before...”

He raised his brows, waiting for me to complete the thought.

The problem and situation wasn’t so simple, though. I could help Sas out of the mess he made, but I didn’t want to anymore. I wasn’t Sas’s bitch and didn’t answer to him, but if the cartel was targeting him, they would target me too. We were to bemanandwife.

I nearly gagged.

But once we were, our marriage would be legally binding and—even if we openly hated each other—people would still think they could hurt Sas by hurting me. And vice versa. I would be forever the victim.

As I looked up at my uncle—the hero, the soldier—I recalled things from my childhood. How while he was older, he was passed around from one relative to another, no one except his mother truly wanting him there. He hadn’t had a choice then as much as I didn’t have one now, but he did have more access to my father’s dealings.

And we were both better educated now.

“Who are the people out there?” I demanded.

He blinked rapidly, his mouth hanging open. His breath scorched my forehead, sending more tingles dancing across my skin. It took him a few seconds, but then he cleared his throat and averted his gaze.

“I’ve never seen some of them before,” admitted Rafe. “But Mass did show me photos from our intelligence.”

Rolling my eyes, I scoffed. What were we, spies? Leave it to my father to always put his importance above everything else. His flesh and blood included.

“Sas took over the VP position from Angel, who decided to stay in Park Ridge,” said Rafe.

“I know that much.” I hadn’t seen the notorious Angel around, but he was already in a relationship. They needed someone who didn’t have an “old lady” to marry me, which was how I got the oh-so-lovely Sas.

Vice president.

High in the ranks, but stupid as fuck.

Did shit like the cartel happen under Angel?

“Beans handles the books,” continued Rafe, and I snorted.

I smacked the heel of my hand on my forehead. “What kind of name is that? Does everyone here go by something so on the nose?” Weren’t hardcore bikers supposed to have tough names?

Rafe continued, “He’s a numbers guy and has the glasses to prove it. I don’t think he gets much involved with the dirtier shit. Ward—” He waited to see if I recognized the name. When Iraised my brows, he continued, “Big guy at the table opposite the Rojas brothers.”

“Ah, okay.”

“Yeah, he’s the club tech guy.”

“Tech?” That was more than just rolling around on motorcycles, wasn’t it? Why would they need a tech guy? I didn’t pay too much attention to my father’s business, but Papà must’ve had one for the Mafia business too.

“Yeah, tech,” confirmed Rafe. “Then Graff was sitting at the island, sketching.”

“The tattoo artist. Belladonna. Got it.” I recognized his name, even without the sketching tidbit. Almost recalled his face too. Most of the MC looked similar as if they might be inbred, but it was likely only their clothes and tats.

Rafe sidestepped me. “I need to get back out there.”

I groaned and placed my hand on his forearm, stopping him. “Don’t leave me in here alone.”

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