Page 195 of The Outlaw's Savage Revenge

“Of course, he didn’t. That man would walk through fire for you,” Sophie quips.

“So would Dante and Nico,” I point out bitterly.

Sophie sighs. “They’d better have a damn good reason for this.”

“You need a reason?” I scoff. “How about they’re twisted bastards who like to play God on the side? And it’s high time that fucking meeting ended. I’m coming there to squash that shit—

“Wait, this isn’t an in-house Capo’s meeting. They’re negotiating with theBeast, remember.“ Addy warns.

My anger crystallizes into purpose. “So? He’s welcome to watch the family drama or fuck off. Either way, I’m wringing Dante’s neck tonight.”

“Not if I get my hands on him first,” Addy mutters darkly.

“Great, we’re crashing it then. Soph, you coming?” I prompt, noticing she’s been quiet.

“Oh, I won’t miss it for the world,” Sophie snickers.

I check my watch. “I’ll meet you two there in twenty minutes, then. And ladies? Dress to kill.”

I don’t bother driving—I’m shaking too badly. Clutching the test result in my hand, I let the cab pull into Addy’s beachfront house. When I step out, I’m grateful for the paved path that saves me navigating beach sand on four-inch heels.

When Addy opens the door, I stop short. She’s wearing what can only be Dante’s shirt. It drowns her curvy frame and falls to her mid-thigh. A baseball cap holds her thick red braid in check, her face scrubbed clean of makeup. Her bare feet are tipped with glossy pink polish.

“Seriously, Addy?” I snort, taking in her garb.

Her lips curve wickedly. “Seriously.” She pulls me into a hug. “I’m so sorry he did this. He’s just… dammit, he’s Dante.”

“I know,” I manage. “It’s good news, but still…”

“He had no right,” she finishes firmly.

“Where’s Sophie?”

“Already here, darling.”

My jaw drops as Sophie steps into view. She’s weaponized herself in skin-tight black leather, a plunging neckline showcasing cleavage so perfect it could make a demon weep, with thigh-high stiletto boots completing the look. Her rarely-loosened dark hair cascades like silk, flowing all the way to her ass.

Their eyes track over my double-breasted power suit and severe chignon, understanding and approval gleaming in their gazes. We’ve each chosen our armor carefully.

“Ready?” I ask and they nod.

Addy leads us down the long hallway to the study, her barefoot steps silent except for the faintest hitch in her gait. Around us, dozens of armed men linger with practiced stillness, lending a sinister edge to the otherwise airy and serene beach house.

Low-pitched voices rumble and snarl behind the study door. I shake my head, unsurprised by the palpable rage emanating from the room. It still boggles my mind that I sit at the same table with some of the country’s most dangerous alphas.

Cade ensures I attend enough meetings to hold my own. At first, I hated it, but now? I’m glad. Facing off with greedy businessmen feels like taking candy from babies in comparison.

When we reach the study, Sophie and Addy hang back, their expectant gazes landing on me. I’m the Mafiosa here, after all.

I roll my eyes at the unspoken deference and push the door open without knocking.

The room freezes like a tableau. Seconds ago, they looked ready to tear each other apart. Now, their attention snaps to us, the interruption radiating a sense of something potentially more dangerous.

Nico sits at the head of the long table, his only reaction a single raised eyebrow. The second shoots up to join the first when Sophie plants herself beside me. Even across the room, I see his eyes darken dangerously.

“Well, fuck.” Dante’s breath leaves in a rush when Addy takes her place at my other side. And then, to my utter shock, his face goes red. He’s actually blushing—at the sight of his wife. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

But it’s Cade who steals my attention. Three days apart feels like an eternity when he looks likethat.Charcoal suit molded to perfection over his broad frame, his stubble hitting that ideal roughness I crave to feel between my thighs. Heat flares low in my belly, need pulsing with an intensity that borders on embarrassing.

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