Page 39 of The Boss
“About that,” she starts. I cock my head and wait. She goes on, “How? Who? I mean who could possibly have the balls to turn on you?You?There’s got to be big money or big power behind the scenes.” Her fake concern leaves her tone as she starts rambling her thoughts aloud. “It’s not my papa, maybe the Russians? Pissed that we got married? Did you find out who the rat’s working for? How’d you find him out at all? And what did you do to him after—”
I cut her off, “He lasted a week before I found him out. And his head was removed, sliced down the middle, and delivered to two interested parties.”
“Delivered to wh—”
“You worried about my enemies, wife?” I ask pointedly. “Don’t be. Sheila says you want to redecorate. That’s good. Focus on paint colors and shit. Leave my business to me.”
“Paint?”
I lean down so my eyes are at her level. I lower my voice. “I hope it’s worry. Worry and not something else,” I take a slow look at her pushed up tits and exposed shoulders, graceful, thin neck and perfect face. Her dark eyes swirl with emotions. “Not more scheming. Like trying to seduce me with this doe-eyed act, with your sweet, virgin pussy, just to dig up some dirt on my clan to send back to your father. It won’t work, Luna. You think I can’t resist you? You think I’ll break? I once lived on the land alone for six months. Plus, it would be such a waste, such a shame. I just told you what we do to exterminate rats around here,” I drag a knuckle down her cheek and remind her who she’s dealing with by adding, “and your face is much too beautiful to be split in two.”
I drop my hand and walk away.
I stalk to the gym and start my second work out of the day. I sit and drink with the men at the party, laughing and listening to their stories and the familiar Irish drinking songs. When I’m exhausted down to my bones I rise, look at my bedroom balcony, and decide to head in the opposite direction. I walk to the woods and find some stillness, some quiet. Darkness. Home.
I contemplate sleeping outside.
Not because I want to.
I need to.
I spoke a big game to that siren back there but I have met my match. She’s not just sexy. The real her—strong and smart and angry—is also regal, queenly. Breathtaking.
And devious as fuck.
She is here to destroy me.
And I can’t fucking forget it.
CHAPTER 22
Luna
Great.
“Just great, Luna,” I say to myself as I get off the couch and stretch.
It’s been two whole days and I’m already a catastrophic failure.
Crazy dog lady cover? Blown.
Sweet seductress? Rejected.
I do feel somewhat triumphant that Mr. Unbreakable didn’t come back to bed last night. He may have gone six months in the wild with no electricity and no sex, but he was also out there with no temptation. It’s easy to settle for your right hand when that’s all you’ve got.
Here in the real world, he has to see me and share a bedroom with me.
I didn’t go out on the balcony last night but hell, I wanted to. I heard the sounds. Was it really an orgy? With what women? Did they all sample our merchandise? Cocaine? Ecstasy? Something else? Did Quinn have some? Did sweet little Sheila?
Wait.
No wonder he didn’t come to his bed.
He probably went to her bed!
If not Sheila’s, maybe that of some other girl.
“Ugh!” I grunt my clothes on as my last little bit of hope dies out.
