Page 171 of Nash

He arches a brow, “Yeah, about that…” and I roll my eyes, grinning.

Great.

More Bratva bullshit.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

VALE

I lovethe humming whir of a label maker. Usually, I use this thing to label our inventory. Trust me; you better know the difference between clear bottles of water-based versus anal-numbing lube.

Amirite? Who wants a numb pussy?

Not this bitch. All I feel is pure satisfaction, labeling what’s mine.

QUEEN VALE MONROE ALLEN

I smile, peeling off the adhesive strip with glee and?—

“What are you doing?”

A deep voice startles me. I glance over my shoulder, and Nash grins, looming in the doorway of our throne room. I’m not supposed to be in here alone, but I love a good spanking.

“Labeling my throne.” I’ve tipped it over. Its gold back rests on the parquet floor while I carefully center my label on the underside of my white velvet seat.

“We don’t need labels.” He steps inside, closing the door behind him. “Everyone knows you’re my queen, and that’s your throne. They watched you earn it.”

“Yeah, but what if we play musical chairs one night?” It thrills me, pressing the label on. “I’m sure there’s more kink to come, and we’re always prepared, right? I’ll want my throne back where it belongs.”

He chuckles. “You say that because we anointed it last week.”

Yeah, we did.

Nash wanted to celebrate our engagement, so we invited the kings and queens to join us.

And, oh, my Bratva beasts, how theyjoinedus.

First, we had a lot to discuss. Nadine was here for that part.

We discussed Turner and his crew. Or the lack thereof. But now the task begins of hunting down his buyers. Our queen won’t rest until she has all of them by the balls. Literally.

Then we talked about Alena, Loch, and their limbo and decided to give them some time. Everyone is giving them space while Nash and I plan our gothic wedding.

My queens loved the idea of my black wedding gown. As my bridesmaids, they’ll wear something similar. Zar said he’d even find a black lace gentlemen’s cravat to tie around his neck. He already has a black brocade suit.

Of course, Blair and Alena will be my maids of honor. Who knows? Maybe Blair will have an NFL newborn by then, while Alena’s future is still in the air.

I just want her to be happy again. I won’t get married until she is.

After our wedding talk, Sire reclined on his throne, offhandedly mentioning how he and Wren are trying to get pregnant. And with his name that screams “breeding kink,” it won’t take long.

But I was surprised. I thought Wren really wanted to wait, but clearly, Sire has another agenda. It was odd. He sounded too aloof. His casual tone didn’t match the blazing blue intensity of his eyes.

Maybe it was just Sire’s usual fervor, all zealous and believing his life depends upon his future child’s. Maybe it was just me, shocked at how they had changed their plans, but something was going on there.

Grant and Delphine, however, are in no rush to start a family, though Delphine said she wanted to go home to Paris to visit hers.

But Nadine sat on her red velvet throne, smoking her cigar and flatly refusing, “No. It’s too risky.” She warned her, “It’s an election year for the European Union, and you could bring down their conservative party. You won’t leave France alive, so I won’t allow it.”

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