Page 9 of A Deviant Queen

not safe when I’m around; I hold her life in my hands.

“We had to do it. Our

marriage united the British Syndicate and the Bratva. She can unite us with the

Irish or the Italians, and we can become stronger.”

She’s thirsty for power,

and I can practically taste her hunger from here.

“What do you plan to do

with her, then? Donnie is already taking over.”

The not-so-subtle pleas

from my mother and no response from my father were an answer enough. Anger

pulses through me. He has nothing to say to that vile witch about selling me

off like fucking cattle. The man has always had my back against her. But now, he sits

quietly while she plots against me.

The anger from the memory nearly swallows me. I’m not one to look for protection, but the thought of the man I hold high on a pedestal not defending me and the idea of him considering such a thing rattles me to my core.

“I’m just fucking dandy,” I spit.

“You know you can talk to me about anything.” Like a whip to the face, his words make me flinch.

“Can I?”

Those intense, unrelenting green eyes bore into me. Calmly, he peels me apart, looking for the meaning behind my words. Several moments pass before the tension between us makes me want to squirm.

“Is that all? I have shit to do.”

“You’re dismissed.”

I snort at his dismissal like I wouldn’t walk right the fuck out of the conference room whether or not he permitted me. This whole fucked up mess makes me need blood. I long to tear someone apart; the thought of ripping someone’s spine from their throat has me practically salivating.

I feel his eyes on me as I walk out of the room without another word. I finally understand why he’s okay with whoring me out and marrying me off.

He wants me gone, too.

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