Page 85 of Their Princess

“Let’s go.” Sas clapped his hands at the prospects. “We need to move.”

Then he held out the open brick of coke to me, but I didn’t take it. I studied him, thinning my lips together. Disgust curled in my gut. My nostrils burned, though the shit was a foot away.

“Give it a taste,” said Sas. “Learn how to tell the shit’s pure.”

I shook my head.

“Think you’re too good for this?” Sas scoffed, but fury hardened his gaze.

“Didn’t anyone tell you not to take the shit you sell?” I asked. Rule number one among the Mafia dealers.

“How would I know if it’s any good?”

“Wouldn’t you rather think straight?”

“Being straight is not my issue.” He walked back, slamming his shoulder into mine, but I managed not to move. He yelled, “Faster, bitches! Faster!”

The prospects hurried their work.

“Besides,” Sas said, looking back at me. “You gotta do a lot more than put a little on your tongue to get a good high.”

Back at the clubhouse, we pulled into the row of bikes, each of ours loaded with too much cocaine. The prospects slipped off their bikes, taking the bricks of very illegal drugs out of their saddlebags. Sas sauntered over, supervising them. He wore a smug smile, but it was too early to be this cocky.

“How the hell is this quicker than processing the shit you’ve already got in the field?” I asked.

He shrugged. “It’s not, but this is worth more than what we’ve already sent out. We can draw in a bigger fish.”

I shook my head and walked away before I said something I would regret. He was fucking insufferable.

Before I made it to the door, a white van pulled up. It had no markings, and the back windows were solid. The kind of vehicle everyone liked to label kidnapper vans. I groaned as the others started carrying the coke over to the vehicle and stacking it in the back.

“My bags are open,” I called over to the prospects. “Go ahead and empty those too.” I pushed open the door into the clubhouse only to halt in the doorway, my stomach dropping to my feet as heat raced through my veins.

Adelina leaned over the arm of a chair, her back exposed. The sides of her breasts visible. It was no more than the amount of breast she showed in her bikini, and a vision of both her breasts on full display stoked in my imagination. Kindled to life by the conversation we’d had the night before.

Would she thrash her head against the sheets when I flicked one of her nipples?

My niece. I looked away, shameful heat flooding my cheeks.

Others in the clubhouse had gathered around, and while they looked at how her body was exposed, they were more focused on Graff’s head bent over her shoulder. He had a tattoo gun buzzing against her, and he drew freestyle. But what the fuck was he drawing on Adelina’s once unmarred skin? She had been perfect like porcelain, smooth but delicate. But now she was cracked, shedding the young and vulnerable girl I once knew in favor of a far more courageous woman.

Chapter Eighteen

SAS

Rafe was lettingin the heat, and the clubhouse took forever to cool down. So I kicked him out of the way as I stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind me, and I finally saw what made Rafe pull up short.

Adelina, half-naked.

And it wasn’t even the half I wanted to see. I was sure she had good tits, and I knew that curve of her ass already.

“Graff,” I called out, and the others popped up their heads.

When they saw it was me, they backed away from Adelina sheepishly. I hadn’t fucked her yet or given her a property patch to mark her as my own, but the guys knew. She was mine, even if she wasn’t my old lady.

Yet.

Graff waited. His eyes flicked up to me as he held the tip of his tattoo gun half an inch above Adelina’s skin. “Yeah, Sas?”

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