Page 97 of Bitter Prince
I flicked him an annoyed look. “What are you going to do when you have to get married?”
“I’ll fuck her, then leave her,” he remarked dryly. “I don’t need all that love bullshit.”
I didn’t answer him. No matter what I said, he’d have a comeback. That was who Dante was when he got something into his thick skull.
Returning our attention to the upcoming asshole, our gazes locked on the same door the girls had come through earlier tonight, but the feeling was entirely different. A few hours ago, we waited with worry. This time, we waited with rage.
He was a man six feet under the moment he laid his hands on my cinnamon girl. Under no circumstance would I ever allow a man who touched her to live. No way, no how.
And there he was. Ruffled blond hair. Light brown eyes. Six feet tall. And a smirk that told me he hadn’t learned his lesson—that he’d dare to grope more girls.
“Dietrich, here.” I waved him over.
“Fun’s about to start,” Dante muttered under his breath, grinning viciously. The smirk on the blond prick faded, probably recognizing a slightly crazy person when he saw one. Except he was wrong. Dante was lots crazy.
Dietrich’s eyes bounced between Dante and me, his light brows furrowed, not recognizing us. With hesitant steps, he hobbled over, and I relished the slash across his forehead. Probably the result of the beer bottle. He was also sporting a black eye, courtesy of Reina’s punch.
But that would be nothing compared to what was coming his way.
* * *
We pulled up to a villa an hour’s drive from Saint-Tropez, courtesy of Kingston, the Omertà Ghost. Why did he have a villa in southern France? No fucking idea.
Dante swerved left and right, jerking the wheel as he drove down the gravel road. A body slammed inside the trunk with each turn of Dante’s wheel, and each time he smiled wider. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t as well. Dietrich, soon to beDeadtrich, would pray for it by the time we were done with him.
Once we pulled up in front of the villa, I climbed out the passenger side, went around to the trunk, and opened it. Our captive was looking slightly more beat up, but not enough. It wouldn’t be enough until he was dead and gone.
We stopped outside the villa, and I walked up the main path, Dante at my back. Just as we approached the basement door where Kingston kept all his gear, he appeared in the doorway.
I guessed he wanted in on the lesson. Or should I say session?
“Ghost.” I greeted him with a tilt of my chin.
“Bitter prince.”
I let out a sardonic breath as realization slammed into me. I hadn’t felt very bitter since crossing paths with Reina again. Since I felt her lips on me.
“We’re ready for some fun,” Dante announced, dragging Dietrich by his blond hair.
Kingston folded his arms in front of him. “What did he do?”
“Groped my girl,” I hissed. “Refused to accept her ‘no’ as an answer.” I saved his even bigger offense for last. “And he intended to deliver her to Perez Cortes.”
Kingston’s cold expression turned to stone. The whole underworld knew what Perez Cortes did to women. He moved aside, letting me pass. We all hated bullies, but assholes who didn’t understand a simple “no” fell into a completely different category.
My eyes scanned the staircase that led downstairs. Once in the concrete room, Dante dumped the body in a heap on the ground. Dietrich’s head snapped up, his eyes slightly dazed. His face was red as fuck, and the twat was sweating, drops dripping down his mottled skin and crashing onto the cold, gray floor beneath our feet. Fear flashed in those light browns, but it wasn’t nearly enough.
I glanced at my brother behind me and gave him a short nod—get fucking ready to play.
I didn’t move as Dante’s rage filled the room, readying to unleash hell on this cunt. While I mastered controlling my emotions from an early age, Dante relished in letting them consume him. Bottom line: he was impulsive as fuck.
Placing my mouth near his ear, I said quietly, “Wrong girl, fucker. You touched the wrong girl.” He tensed, his eyes darting to Kingston. He was more likely to get mercy from the devil than Kingston. “And you’ll tell us what Cortes’s plans are.”
Pushing the fucker back a step, I twisted his arm around his back, moved behind him, and grabbed the prick by his hair. That movement was all Dante needed. He gripped a knife in each of his hands and sliced through his shirt.
“Watch,” I said calmly into Dietrich’s ear. “Don’t be a pussy and look away.”
I pulled on his hair tighter so he had the perfect view of what Dante was about to do to him. He fought my hold, but his weak ass had nothing on me.
