Page 14 of Ruthless Reign

BEAR

Iwasn’t supposed to find her so damned attractive. The fact she was a Caputi meant that I should hate her, that I should be repulsed by everything she represented. But she smelled like heaven and looked like a siren devil and, when she smacked me, I wanted to bend her over the nearest surface, turn her ass pink, and bury myself deep inside her.

Did I deserve it? Most definitely. I’d been angry and my tongue reacted before my brain could stop it.

Did I like it? Fucking fuck. Her beauty was matched only by her zeal, and when she set all of that on me, I wanted to consume it like the raging, spiraling void of a black hole. When I had my hand around her throat, her pulse beat like butterfly wings under her skin, and I wanted to see how much faster I could get it.

Shaking that off, I retreated for the bathroom to cool down, and when I came back out, she was already in her room. Which I figured was for the best because I needed a drink and some time alone.

After I had my tumbler of whiskey, I went to my bedroom and pulled out the research we’d managed to compile on thecurrent Caputi players. Based on what Julia and Leo told us, there were a few of Benito’s siblings who would be willing to hear us out, but looking at their family tree, I wondered if it would be enough.

These bastards bred like bunnies, and there were a dozen cousins we’d have to get on board as well, not to mention the underbosses Leo had promised to visit.

As if summoned by my thoughts of him, my phone buzzed with a text from the Caputi prince himself.

Leo:Rancone is on board. Davila may take some work.

Me:What’s he want?

I sat back and rubbed a hand over my mouth, waiting for the reply.

Leo:A bigger piece of the pie.

Fucking figures.These crime bosses, all they ever wanted was more—more money, more power, more status.

Me:How big?

Leo:Another territory. Higher percentage.

Me:And?

Leo:I’ll consider it. I’m reaching out to Frankie and Sulli tomorrow morning.

I left it at that, and I massaged my burning eyes. I had my own shit to deal with. Stallion, Reaper, and Lunchbox would be a problem, one I wasn’t sure Doc could fix. He’d planted the idea there could be dissent when he’d been vocal about this alliance not working, and now we reaped that harvest. Other people in the club thought it was okay to rebel, to make their opposition known loud and clear. Instead of coming to me man to man, Stallion had openly expressed his dissatisfaction and fear that the Caputis would betray us.

That wasn’t to say I didn’t harbor that same fear myself. Julia and Leo could be playing us, but I didn’t see how that worked out to their advantage. The Caputi princess and I were legallybound to each other. She could kill me in my sleep, perhaps. But what remained of the club would come for her. She was on Rose territory, knee-deep in the thorns. Leo wouldn’t risk his only remaining sibling like that if he planned to turn coat at the last second.

I would have to do something about Stallion, Reaper, Lunchbox, and whoever else joined in with their scheming. An incoming text came from my sister, telling me our father had reached out. While she was Rose adjacent, she wasn’t a patched member. Therefore, she could talk freely with Crow, and as much as that chafed, I was glad one of us could communicate with him.

Detective Jordan was up his ass and the DA had plans to rake him through the coals. He would fall on the sword for us, the way the president was supposed to, but that didn’t mean I liked it. Sick desperation brewed in my heart, and I wished for the millionth time that I could talk to him myself, that I could get some of his old-fashioned guidance.

On top of all this, the Hell’s Knights MC were seen riding through North Carolina, much farther north than their territory would predicate. When Gabriella enacted her murderous plan four months ago, she had made a deal with the Hell’s Knights to get information about us through my sister. In exchange, Gabriella had sold Verona to the president as retribution for his brother’s death, something my father had done before any of us were born. We now had more enemies than we could count, and the walls were quickly closing in on every side.

I took another drink of whiskey and sighed. A soft murmur echoed through the house, and I grabbed my gun, clicking off the safety before remembering I had a new roommate.

The sound came again, this time louder, a moan or perhaps…a stifled plea. I stood and walked toward the hallway, holding the nine millimeter in one hand while I turned the door handle. Themoaning grew more intense when I opened the entry, but as I got closer to Julia’s room, it turned into words.

“Please, don’t,” she said. “Please. Please, stop. He didn’t do anything. I didn’t do anything.” She groaned again, the pained sound turning into a muffled scream. I opened her door and held my gun up, prepared to shoot any intruders, but the room was empty. Moonlight trickled in through the French patio doors, bathing the space in a soft glow. I stepped closer, tilting my head to the side as her cries grew more despairing.

“Zia, stop it. Please. He had nothing to do…” She trailed off into a mumble, something unintelligible and pained. I squatted in front of the mattress, bringing myself to eye level with her. She gripped the sheets in a tight fist, her knuckles white, and wisps of her hair stuck to her forehead from the sweat of her nightmare.

“Julia,” I said softly, trying not to startle her. She didn’t wake.

“Please, don’t. Please. Please. Let him live.” She thrashed, her body shaking as she cried, small tears tracking down over her cheeks.

“Julia,” I said louder this time, gently brushing hair out of her face to grab her cheek.

She woke on a gasp, snapping her eyes open and jutting a hand out toward me. The cold kiss of metal met my throat, and I stiffened, recognizing the blade in her tiny fist.

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