Page 83 of Bad Little Bride

“Come on now, boss. I was just talking to a friend,” he teases.

“He’s fired people for less,” Boston pipes in with a grin, but it quickly falls, and she drops her leg. “Wait, boss?” She shifts back, head yanking from me to him. “Boss?”

Nicholas swallows, swiftly looking my way, and Boston pushes to her feet.

“What do you mean, boss, Nick?”

My eyes narrow. “Nick?” I don’t realize I’m stepping closer until my chest is pressed to Boston’s shoulder. “Why is she calling you by a nickname, Nicholas?”

“He’s my friend,” she snaps, pressing against my chest.

“You don’t have friends, Boston, and I sure as hell never gave him permission to be yours.”

Those big green eyes fly to mine, and she tries to tear away, but my hand snaps out, latching onto her wrist to keep her there.

“I wasn’t trying to cause problems,” Nicholas says, backing away, only to slam into Mino, who places himself right behind him. “Fuck,” he mumbles, dropping his chin in defeat.

“Tell me,fiancée,” I hiss into her ear. “Howfriendlyare you with Mr. Galley, here?”

“That is none of your business.”

“Everything to do with you is my business. You belong to me.”

Boston’s temper flares, and a dark little shadow sparks to life in her eyes. Her chin lifts, and when she speaks, she damn near yells for everyone to hear. “For now.”

Rage, hot and swift, shoots through me like a shot of energy into the vein. My blood boils over in an instant, flushing through my entire body until I’m but bottled lava ready to blow.

She has no idea the damage she’s just caused.

I take her by the hip and throw her over my shoulder, leaving Mino to deal with the little fucking traitor, and carry her ass out.

The car is already there when I approach, my men ripping open the door so I can toss her inside.

Boston growls in anger, and when she picks herself up off the seat, turning to face me with fire in her eyes, her mouth opens to tear into me, but I beat her bratty ass, shoving my bandanabetween her lips, before yanking out a second, binding it around her face the way my men wear theirs.

She snarls against the fabric and when her hands fly up in an attempt to remove the gag, I take them both in mine, looping the seat belt around her wrists and tugging it until it locks her in place.

She kicks, and I tear her shoes off, tossing them to the floor.

I crawl over her, anger pulsing through me at an uncontrolled rate.

It’s not until I’m directly over her, hovering above her glorious fucking body, that she settles slightly, staring up at me with the promise of her wrath.

Little does she know I want it.

I want all of her. Her anger and fear. Her happy and sad. Her hard and goddamn, do I crave her softness. I’ve yet to see it, not truly, but I know it’s in there and I want to break it free with the rest of what she holds back from me.

But we’ll get to that later.

“Listen and listen well, Boston Fikile. I own you. There is nofor now, maybe,ora little bit.Every single part of you is mine. Today, tomorrow, and even when I die, you will still be mine. I’ll be the ghost at your back, Little Bride, so the sooner you come to terms with that, the better.”

Her eyes narrow, but she can’t hide the flush creeping up her neck.

She likes what she’s hearing, even if she doesn’t realize it. Or won’t admit it.

“Unfortunately, because of that little scene you just caused in there, I’m going to have to do something drastic.” Her eyes narrow further, and she wriggles around, yanking at her wrists.

I drop all my weight on her. “Stop. Pulling.” I frown down at her. “If you make so much as a mark on those perfect littlewrists, I’ll do something about it. If you stay still, no marks will be left behind.”

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