Page 10 of Ruthless Reign

“I’ll handle it.” Doc nodded, stood, and walked out front, hopefully to set Stallion and the others straight.

Thor glanced at me with distrust echoing in his gaze before following the enforcer out.

“Don’t worry about them,” I said, turning to Leo. “We’ll get them in line.”

Leo smirked and winked. “I’m not worried, brother. We’re on the same train now. We’ll get where we’re going in one piece.” He clapped my shoulder before limping away, his two bodyguards on either side.

“That’s a problem,” KC said once it was just us and Wheels. “Doc should have kept his mouth shut.”

“I don’t trust Stallion,” Wheels said. “My brother got shot that day, too, so I understand why he feels the way he does.” The only difference was Hollister had lived, despite the vicious scar on his head. “He’s up to something.”

“Thor will keep an eye on him,” I said.

“You need to marry Julia publicly,” Hollywood said. “That’s the only way they see this as a true alliance.”

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. I’d been thinking the same thing.

“Otherwise, they’ll eat her alive,” he continued. “If they don’t think she’s your old lady, they’re never gonna respect her. One drunken night is all it’s gonna take, and they’ll chew her up.”

“Got it,” I said, nodding toward the door. “Go on. Go get laid. Let me deal with that bullshit.”

Wheels, KC, and Hollywood stood to leave, and I ran my hands over my face, taking a deep inhale and again wishing I could talk to my father. I didn’t know how he’d done this forso long. I’d only been in charge for three months and I nearly drowned with the pressure. The responsibility for everyone in this clubhouse rested on my shoulders. Every drop of Rose blood spilled from here on would be the result of my action or inaction. If someone died, that was my fault. If this plan didn’t work, it would be my fault.

Fuck, Stallion, Reaper, and all their buddies would drag me out into the woods and rip my limbs off before shooting me between the eyes, and I would deserve it.

A hot lance of panic went through my chest, making my heart pound against my rib cage, turning my lungs to ash. I gasped for air, praying the sweet oxygen would soothe me, but it only made me more desperate for a reprieve.

Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown, and all that shit.

3

JULIA

Iwatched as the Roses filed out of the back room and resisted a sneer. Four months ago, I’d been their informant, the one who had an ear to the ground in the Caputi stronghold. Now that I was an “old lady,” I wasn’t even allowed in the meeting. Didn’t they realize this had also beenmywar long before our alliance existed? If Gabriella was coming apart at the seams, they needed to act strategically, not with anger and vengeance.

While Alba, Verona, and the other MC princesses chatted around me, I texted my cousin, Della. She was only a few months younger than me and had been my best friend growing up.

Me:I can’t wait to come home for a visit. Wait until you see my new house.

Della:Is it terrible? Where is it?

Me:In the sticks. It’s dreadful. What is going on at home? What is Gabriella planning?

Della:Nothing good. Word has spread about Leo being alive and your marriage to the Roses. Uncle Frankie is in an uproar. My mother is pleading with Gabriella to step down, but she won’t. What about the Roses?

Me:Don’t know. They won’t let me in?—

“Julia?” Alba said, breaking my concentration. I glanced up at the expectant faces of my cousin, my new sister-in-law, and two others. Sue and Ailene? I hadn’t been paying attention when Alba introduced them, my mind too focused on how my husband had flirted with that ugly brunetteputtanain the corner. She eyed me with a smug grin that said she could have Roman if she wanted to, and being so new to this environment, I didn’t know if she was wrong. We had agreed on the infidelity clause, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t push his limits.

“Sorry,” I said, holding up my phone. “My cousin.”

“We were thinking about having a girls’ night next Friday, just the four of us,” Alba said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Would you be interested in coming?”

“Don’t be too sweet, Alba,” Verona said. “Surely, the Caputi princess has better things to do than slum around with the likes of us.”

I pushed my shoulders back and forced a smile, trying not to show how much I would rather stab myself in the thigh than spend time with the Rose women. Alba was married to the man that killed my eldest brother, Julian, and my uncle, Benito. Despite being blood related to her, I seethed with hatred for both of them. The rest were nearly as bad as their men—cutoff shorts, tank tops, disgusting flip-flops. The goth one had tattoos all over her body, even on her fingers. What did they know about me? What could I possibly have in common with them?

“Uh,” I started.

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