Page 9 of Savage Kingdom

“I’ve been trained to look like a lady, fuck like a whore, and think like the devil. So tell me, why do you think fucking you would be anything special?” She raised her brow in defiance. “I’ve had hundreds of men—” Her finger came to my chin, tipping it up, forcing me to look her in the eyes. “—and, handsome, you wouldn’t even make the top ten.”

Most men would find this insulting—hell, emasculating—but not me. I took it as a challenge. I smirked at her, getting lost in her stormy eyes. I put both my hands to her waist and ground her against my hard-on. Her pouty lips opened in surprise, but she made no sound. Good, because I didn’t like to share her with anyone.

“I’d fuck you so hard, Petal, your pussy would weep for me, and me only. I’d tear you up, marking you as mine, because the next time you see me, you’d be fighting back a moan.”

Her breathing became shallow, and she was speechless, which I took as a good sign. Her weight was still on my dick, and I wanted nothing more than to sink in her wet heat.

“In your dreams,” she whispered as she got off me.

“All the time, love.” I took another drag of my smoke before I asked her a question that was nagging me. “What business do you have being here? We both know you could have gone with the fucking pale demon when he left.”

She cocked her head, her eyes guarded. “You still don’t like him, huh?”

The first time I met him, I fought the urge to kill him. I sat across from him and watched as he tried to undermine Daphne. It was a beauty to watch her stand up to him. If I could do it all over again, I would have killed him in that meeting.

“He treats you like shit. Anyone else, you wouldn’t hesitate to maim them, but with him, you hold yourself back. You don’t bow to anyone; why should you for that prick?”

Something in her face changed. Dare I say it, even went soft, almost angelic, except she carried death in her veins instead of life. She swallowed, and when she spoke again, her voice was hoarse, making her Russian accent stronger.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Sight.”

I took one last drag of my cigarette, then threw it on the floor and finished putting it out with the bottom of my boot.

“One day, Petal, you’re going to back yourself into a corner, and you’re going to wish I was there to fucking save you.”

As soon as I was out of the tent, I threw my head back, frustrated. Daphne was like the Great Wall of China. Her walls went on forever. Patting my chest, I felt the object I carried around my neck. I didn’t know why Daphne was hunting imperial objects, but I made sure the road would lead back to me. With that thought in mind, I went in search of Rivera.

“Tu gringo,” Sergio’s wheezy voice rang to my left.

“I’m British.” I grinned.

The stupid arsehole waved his hand. “Potato or tomato, same shit.”

Somehow, I managed not to kill him. Some people like Daphne, Bastian, and Falcon conducted their business through the dark web, but not me. People only reached me by word of mouth, and they got one of my satellite phones. When Sergio called, I had almost dismissed it until he mentioned the Estacados. I knew Daphne wasn’t at the fight in NY just to track a hit; she was there for intel.

Stealing one of only two women in that family line was risky but a fucking challenge on its own. The girl was rebellious and always sneaking off. I was quite the charmer until I wasn’t. I took her with hopes of finding Daphne.

Now here we all were, and tensions were fucking high.

“Listen.” Sergio grabbed my shoulder. “Rivera and I have to go handle some business. I want you to stay here and keep an eye on things for me.” He winked at me. “Rivera is leaving his son, but we both know the boy is still a little green, and frankly, I don’t trust the Russian whore.”

“If anyone has a chance in hell to keep her in check, it’s me.” I clapped his back and left for my tent, feeling lighter since I’d arrived at this godforsaken place.

Daphne could choose to bend, or I would make her break.

Change was inevitable.Two things were guaranteed in life. One, time would wait for no one, and two, death was the only sure thing we all had. I’d been dealing with the punches life had been handing me my whole life, but every so often, they worked in my favor.

When Sergio and Rivera announced that they were going out, I delayed my trip to Italy. Whenever men lied to me, I pretended like I believed them.

Bastian was in my tent, his eyes boring into the back of my head while I tried to think of what to do. Before either one of us could speak, my satellite phone rang. I debated not answering because I wasn’t in the mood for Damian’s bullshit. Then thinking of him made me think of Gideon.

You don’t bow to anyone. Why should you for that prick?

A part of me wondered what Gideon would think of me if he knew the truth. Kinda ironic that I looked like purity when I was made of the blackest sins.

“Hello?”

“Is it Damian?” Bas whispered, sounding closer.

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