Page 98 of Unforgiving Queen
I drowned in his dark galaxies as the world faded away, leaving us alone in the crowded room.
36
AMON
Istared at her as she sat at the bar, downing her sixth shot of tequila. Yes, I’d counted.
Oba, who I was surprised to see here, shot me disapproving glares. Her earlier words still echoed in my brain.Fight for the girl. She’s yours; you’re hers.
She had no idea how right she was.
My eyes drifted back to Reina. She was wearing the most ridiculous hot-pink dress, but she glowed in a way that made it impossible to look away. She could wear rags and it’d still be impossible to look away.
My heart tripped over its own beat each time our gazes collided. When she ignored me, I traced her features with my eyes, soaking in the lush curves of her body.
The minutes ticked by. Soon she’d be mine. On my yacht. In my home. In my territory.
She and her friends caused quite a stir, striding into the rehearsal dinner an hour late and looking very… bright and colorful.
I didn’t give a shit. Reina still looked breathtaking, and it pissed me off that others got to see those slits up her thigh, revealing too much of her smooth skin.
When I’d caught her eye earlier, my muscles tightened to the point of pain. It hadn’t escaped me that she’d been standing right next to my brother while studiously ignoring him… at what was supposed to be their rehearsal dinner.Good. Maybe I wouldn’t have to beat his ass after all.
She’d been scanning the crowd when our eyes met.
Hot sparks blazed down my spine and I smiled—an actual, honest-to-God, full-blownsmile. I’d had to fight the urge to storm over to her, throw her over my shoulder, and whisk her away from every single person breathing the same air as her.
Into the sunset.Fuck, that sounded so goddamn cheesy. I didn’t give a fuck.
Now, Dante was nowhere to be found, and there she was, still at the bar, smiling at yet another fucker standing next to her. Darius. Who in the fuck invited him? Of course, he came alone. No plus-one for him. But the way he looked at Reina… Yeah, I didn’t like it one fucking bit.
I shoved my hands in my pockets. Why was she smiling so sweetly at him? It took me a couple of minutes to ease the fire mounting in my chest.
Dante appeared, looking slightly agitated, and I wondered which Romero sister pissed him off this time. He had two drinks in hand, one fruity one and one beer. He’d given up whiskey somewhere along the way.
He didn’t seem happy to see Reina mingling with Darius either. Her sister was five feet behind her chatting with Giovanni Agosti who somehow knew ASL. Go figure. I had never seen Reina’s sister grin so widely for as long as I’d known her.
In fact, if she ever happened to see my brother and me, she frowned and glared. This was going back years, even in the months Reina and I had been together.
“I see your taste in alcohol has improved,” I remarked dryly.
As if he forgot he held two drinks, his eyes lowered to them and a scowl lit his features. “The colors in that drink alone make me want to stab myself in the eye.” He lifted his head and his stormy expression warned he was reaching the end of his rope. “I’m trying not to murder the fucker.”
“There’re a lot of fuckers here,” I drawled. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
He looked back at me as if contemplating saying something, but then he just waved his hand, deciding against it.
“You ready to be my best man?” he asked instead. The answer would have been a ready “yes” if circumstances were different. “I have to give you the rings. Go figure, I had to get my own ring because Reina claimed she was too busy.” Now that little piece of intel made me happy. “Mother and Hiroshi will come to the church tomorrow, but have decided not to stay.”
“Understandable.”
He paused, watching me with an odd expression. It was as if he wanted to tell me something.
“Those dresses they’re wearing…” he continued with annoyance. “They’re hideous. And to think Reina is a world-renowned designer.” At least it was easy to spot them. “I hope she picked something better out for the wedding.”
Another pointed look from him. Was he purposely trying to poke at me? It was as if he wanted me to crack with his little offhand comments.
He slapped my shoulder. “A wedding, brother.” There it was again. The little jab. That gleam in his eyes.
