Page 47 of Their Princess

“It wasn’t,” I said, working my jaw. “Isn’t.”

“So you wanted her pussy?”

“Fuck no.”

“Her mouth?”

“I didn’t want her at all.”

“Go get another piece of ass then,” said Sas, his one eye swollen from Rafe’s punches and the other bleary from whatever he’d done—alcohol, pot, who knew?

“It’s not about the bunnies,” I mumbled.

“Then why are you acting like a bitch?”

Sas’s smart mouth was the reason he ended up getting his ass beaten in the ring today. Was he looking for another fight? He might get it with me after I said my peace.

“It’s about Adelina,” I said.

He rolled his eyes and swung his legs off the side of the bed. “Then itisabout a bitch.”

That made me see red. “Don’t call her that.”

“Aw, you’re sweet on her.” He used a sappy falsetto and then dropped his mask into a mean glare. “Need I remind you that she’s a goddamn Mafia princess, though she acts like an ice princess. And she’s probably reporting everything back to Parisi as we speak.”

“She’s your fucking fiancé, Sas. You can’t treat her like this.”

“Is that what you came here for? To tell me to be a good little boy and grateful that someone thought I should marry a prickly cunt?” He laughed, but there was a deadly note to his tone. “You tracked me into this room and fucked Kaos in the ass like there’s no tomorrow. Fucking hypocrite. Get your head out of the clouds, Graff.”

I buckled my belt. “I’m not the one getting married.”

“Hopefully, I won’t be either.” He shrugged. “But I didn’t think you would be the one lecturing me about marriage and sanctity and shit.”

“Have a little fucking integrity, man.”

Sas laughed as he stood and grabbed the puddle of his jeans. “You sleep around and fuck everything with a pulse, Graff. You once said you could never be tied down to one old lady. You’re not mono... mononucleosis or whatever. With your commune upbringing.”

“Monogamous,” I corrected. I should’ve known he would throw that back in my face. Part of becoming a patched MCmember meant that everyone knew too much of my history. Now he used it as a weapon without understanding, the same way Adelina had thought I was in a cult.

“You never said whether you were monogamous or polyamorous,” I said. Those were two different things, but both required open communication.

Sas had barely said a word to Adelina.

“This”—I waved my hand to indicate the fuckery we just participated in—“is fucking cheating.”

“I ain’t married.”

“You will be.”

“Just on paper.”

“And when Massimo Parisi finds out you’re fucking other women?”

“It’s not part of the contract that she’s the only pussy I get for the rest of my life,” said Sas. “Or that I have to sleep with her at all.”

“But it’s in the contract that we’re partners now with the Mafia. Including her. She gets pissed and runs off, we’re all screwed,” I snapped. “What do you think the Prez will have to say about that?”

Sas glared at me. “What do you expect, Graff? I didn’t ask for this shit. Or a prickly wife.”

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