Page 22 of Malicious Claim

Makros never made a fuss over women. He could snap his fingers and have anyone he wanted. Why was this one different? Wife? It was almost laughable.

“Relax cous,” Stefano said smoothly. “We were only talking.”

Makros slammed his fist on the desk, making Stefano pause.

“She’s not one of your little playthings. Next time you see her, you’d better turn the other way. Because if I ever catch you again...” His voice dropped down an octave to convey his seriousness. “I’ll give you a reason to cringe every time you pass a mirror.”

Stefanos gave a slow nod, understanding the conversation was over.

After a long silence, he decided to say the reason why he was there. “The club’s opening tonight. Governor’s sons will be there.”

Makros’s expression relaxed.

“Everything ready?”

“Si.”

A slow smirk spread across Makros’s face. “Then it looks like we’re about to have a hell of a night.”

He raised an invisible glass in the air. “Saluti a quello.”

Chapter Nine

The Bride Of A Beast

Leila paced around the room with her teeth bared. Wrinkled lines sprung at both sides of her face, and her hands were folded into fists. She hated it here. Makros. The Cretes. This mansion that felt like a prison yard, and the godforsaken servants that sneered at her.

They turned their nose up whenever she passed by, and it was barely a month here.

She wondered if they thought they were better than her. Especially girls like Maria who gave her menacing glances. Perhaps they hated her because they loved him, the way Maria had declared so boldly. They could keep him for all she cared.

How could anyone even love someone like him?

Him.

It was forever fuck Makros, and his stupid incredible face, that looked like a well-sculpted Greek god. It was the Greek in him. That gene, combined with the Italian ruggedness, was bound to get the girls feening. He dressed like old money which he was but an advanced ruthless version.

She suddenly paused, realizing her thoughts had taken a drastic turn.

“Why am I thinking about his stupidly perfect face,” Leila muttered, pacing the room with a dramatic limp, one hand bandaged and the other shaking in frustration. “The same face that left me in this glorified prison suite with no food, no explanation, and oh yeah, a bandaged freaking hand?!”

A voice in her head casually chimed in:“Because, honey, he’s hot.”

Another voice jumped in like it had been waiting all day. “And it looks like a walking orgasm. Let’s not forget that dick...god. That dick.”

Her eyes twitched. “No.”

“Yes,”her inner slut purred. “You saw it. That thing was long, thick, and arrogant like the rest of him. It had the audacity to swing like it knew it was the main event.”

“It was the size of a baby’s forearm,”the second voice whispered in awe.

“STOP IT!” she shouted, swatting at the air like she could physically beat the voices out of her head. “I am not thinking about his demon dick!”

“Don’t you want to suck that dick with a fast stroke?”

She paused.

“...It did have a vein,”she muttered under her breath before slapping herself. “NO!”

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