Page 69 of Their Princess

“No fucking way,” barked Sas.

“Excuse me for having style,” she snapped.

“Youareexcused,” said Sas, beaming.

Adelina balled her hand into a fist, about to throw a punch. Rafe wasn’t here to keep her from starting a fight or finish it for her. I had witnessed what Sas did to her last night, but that was only a start. He wouldn’t hesitate to pick up right where he left off when Rafe shoved his gun under his jaw.

This would not end well, so I rushed forward before she could throw her punch. Plus, she would probably hurt herself in the process, and we couldn’t have that.

Sas flared his eyes at me, like I was the problem. He was the one acting like a dick, specifically by picking a fight with a tiny woman.

And for what purpose?

I literally had no idea why he wanted to irritate her so badly. Unless...

No, not possible. She couldn’t have annoyed him enough to make him start to see her as something more than he claimed. But I’d never seen Sas engage with someone so hard.

While her effort missed the mark, Adelina had given it her best to fit in with the MC. But somehow, I didn’t think that was why I got the blunt end of Sas’s ire.

“We got a problem, Graff?” he asked, sounding oddly like Rafe. Like he was a captain in the military instead of a VP in a motorcycle club.

“No, sir,” I said.

And winced.

We’d never called him sir before.

His eyes narrowed on me, but I wasn’t giving him lip. Adelina had done enough of that for the both of us.

Sas stared at me for a long moment before turning back to Adelina and snarling at her.

Her hands relaxed, so she no longer looked like she was about to throw a punch. Also, I no longer believed she actually intended to hit anyone. She just clenched her fists when she was frustrated and then she would stomp her foot like a toddler having a tantrum.

Little princess, indeed.

“You’re not coming with us,” Sas said, stepping around her.

I hoped she would let it go, but she turned on her heel, stalking after him. “Yes, I am.”

“Not dressed like that,” he said over his shoulder.

“She’s not wrong,” said Beans to Teller in a low voice. “Sas the ass.”

Teller made a small affirmative noise, but the two fighting didn’t seem to notice the comments from the sideline critics.

“You’re not letting me go because you don’t like my style?” she asked. “Would you prefer I wear nothing? How whorish would that be for you?”

He spun on his heel toward her, moving like a flash of light, and then reached for her neck. I couldn’t get there fast enough. He fisted her hair, but again, she didn’t flinch. It was like she was staring down the barrel of the gun, but it didn’t faze her. In fact, her lips curved upward, and her eyes narrowed on him.

“What?” she asked almost breathlessly. “You seem to think I am a whore, so I might as well give it a go.”

“No,” growled Sas. “You are mine.”

I took another step closer, hanging off to the side of his body.

Then Sas gave her a wicked grin. “My whore.”

She snorted. “Your whore. Your bitch. Whatever. This isn’t about my style. You just don’t want me riding with you. Or in your business.”

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