Page 5 of Brutal Princess (Valentino Empire 4)

From him, that is. Me? I’m judging the hell out of his ass right now. Standing outside Holly’s old apartment. Waiting for the fucker to get the door unlocked. “Maybe she’s asleep. Don’t you have a key?” I question, mostly because I know it’ll annoy the fuck out of him.

“Do you think I’d be standing out here if I had a fucking key?” T grunts in response before turning to the two soldiers stationed down the hall. Near the elevator. “She still in there?”

“Hasn’t left,” one of them says.

Just as T seems like he’s getting ready to kick the damn door in, it swings wide open. And my sister stands there, looking fucking furious and unsteady as hell.

“About fucking time.” T barges past her; he’s on a mission to find his wife.

I catch Helena right before she’s about ready to hit the floor. She calls out to T—something about Holly being in the bedroom. “Fuck, Helena, you stink like a goddamn brewery.” I pick her up, kicking the door closed behind me, walk into the apartment and dump her on the sofa. My skin prickles as I notice we’re not alone.

She’shere. What the fuck is she doing here? Why is she here? My eyes drop to the coffee table where I spot two bottles of tequila.

“How much have you had to drink?” I question my sister.

She holds up her thumb and index finger. “Just a tiny bit. It was Holly’s idea. Blame her.”

“Yeah, okay, I’m sure she put a gun to your head and made you drink, Hel. Wait, did she put a gun to your head?” I ask. Now that I think about it, it isn’t out of the question. T’s wife has become a little trigger happy lately.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Holly fell asleep; she didn’t even drink. This was a party of two. I got to know Angelica. She’s pretty, don’t you think?” My sister slurs her words, and I can’t help but glance at the woman in question sitting on the sofa opposite us.

She doesn’t look the least bit affected by the alcohol. I do have to agree with my sister, though. The woman is fucking beyond pretty. She’s a goddess. An angel. She’s… I can’t put my finger on it, but she sure is something else.

“Oh yeah, and what did you learn about Angelica, sis?” I ask, without taking my eyes off of this creature who has captivated me a hell of a lot more than I’m ever going to admit.

“She’s T’s sister. Did you know that? Because no one ever fucking tells me anything! Does Papa know? Oh God, does Aunt Gloria know?”

At that, I laugh. “Pretty sure Aunt Gloria knows who knocked her up thirty years ago.”

Our exchange is interrupted when T follows Holly as she storms into the living room. I don’t hear what their argument is about. I’m too fixated on trying to figure out the woman disguised as a cherub. Because one thing’s for sure: she might look like an innocent angel, but there’s a darkness inside her soul. Her eyes betray her.

I can see it. I can hear that darkness calling to me. But what the fuck am I going to do about it?

Nothing. Yet.

“Neo, take Helena home,” T orders right before he picks Holly up and takes her outside onto the balcony.

“Come on, sis, let’s go. You’re staying at my place tonight. No way am I explaining your current state to Pops.” I stand, extending a hand.

“Okay, but wait. I gotta pee. Be right back.” Helena swerves around me and I watch as she clings to the wall while walking down the small hallway.

Sitting back down, I stare at the woman who has me puzzled. What the hell is it about her? Whyher!

“You know, it’s rude to stare,” she states, speaking for the first time.

My lips tip up at the sides. I let my eyes roam over her slight frame, from her head to her toes, and slowly back up again. She’s sitting across from me, dressed in a black tank top and a pair of black leather shorts. All of her golden, tanned skin on display for me, with legs that seem to go on forever. Legs I’d like wrapped around my waist while I slam her against the wall and drill into her.

My eyes reach her face, curtained by long dark locks that hang over her shoulders. Her red-painted lips pinch together. I can think of just how I’d like to pry that mouth open, and it ends with a matching red ring imprinted around my cock.

“You don’t dress like that if you don’t want to be looked at, princess.”

I see the fire flame to life in her eyes. But her face, it gives none of her anger away as she stands, walks around the coffee table, and leans her body over mine. One hand lands on the wall behind me as she lowers her face to my ear. The scent of berries assaults me and I can’t resist the urge to breathe her in more.

“Let’s get one thing straight.” Her tongue darts out as it gently laps my neck.

A growl erupts from my chest. I’m seconds away from grabbing her face and fusing my lips to hers when I feel it. A sharp edge digs right into my cock. Where the fuck did she manage to stash a knife with an outfit like that?

“Non sono una fottuta principessa.”I’m not a fucking princess,she says in fiery Italian. “I’m a damn queen. If you fuck me with those blacked-out eyes of yours again, I’ll cut your fucking dick off before I shove it up your ass.”

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