Page 29 of His Queen

I pull out my phone and dial Maximo, who answers on the second ring. “You watching porn on your phone again? Because fuck, that was fast.”

“Screw you,” he mutters. “What do you want?”

“When was the last time you did a sweep of the girls’ quarters?”

“Last month. We have another scheduled for next week.”

“It needs to happen tomorrow morning. And make it before sunrise so we catch them off guard.”

“What’s going on?”

I lick my lips, glancing at the door Vera disappeared through, warning pounding at the back of my skull. “Just a precaution.”

Maximo grunts. “Fine, I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks.” I hang up just as one of our regulars demands my brother’s attention by stepping up to him.

Anthony Winslow, father of the bride and money bank behind the wedding my wife is planning—the one she thinks I don’t know about. There’s a reason I said she couldn’t take on the project, and it’s not because I don’t want her to work. It’s because Anthony Winslow is a snake and a vulture with not a single loyal bone in his body. The man reeks of deception. Today he’s your best ally because you offer him what he needs. Tomorrow he’s your worst enemy because someone else has what he wants. We only allow him in our club because he’s never done anything to piss us off. The man rolls in the highest of circles, and declining his membership without justifiable cause won’t do us any favors.

Alexius unlocks his jaw and smiles, all teeth and charm. “Anthony, it’s been a long time.”

“Mr. Winslow,” I greet, shaking the fucker’s hand.

“It’s good seeing you two around here for a change. I was starting to think you left the family business to your younger siblings.”

“Not a chance. Alexius and I were just letting Caelian and Isaia think they have the big dicks in our family for a while. Boys gotta learn the ropes sometime.”

Anthony chuckles, his bloated belly shaking behind his black dress shirt. “True. We have to teach the little ones.”

Alexius and I force out some fake laughter, giving each other knowing looks that say, ‘Are you going to shoot him, or should I?’

“Speaking of littles,” Anthony continues, “how exciting that your wife is my daughter’s wedding planner. When Abigail mentioned that Mirabella Del Rossa was one of the candidates, I insisted she pick your wife, Nicoli.”

From the corner of my eyes, I can see the way Alexius shoots laser beams from his glare straight through my skull. “Yes,” I start, pretending to be delighted that my wife is working on a wedding planned by a man who I’d much rather see squashed than fucked in this club. “My wife is very excited to work with your daughter.”

“I must admit,” Anthony says with a sly grin, “I did not think the wife of a Del Rossa would be allowed so much freedom to work with the general public.”

“Yes,” Alexius chimes in. “That makes two of us.”

I pretend not to notice the sneer in his tone. “Well, times are changing, gentlemen. We could all do a little adapting, don’t you think?”

“If you ask me, our wives should all be in the bedroom waiting for us when we get home every night.” He winks. “If you know what I mean.”

I gag a little in the back of my mouth. “I suppose if that were the case, we sure wouldn’t see you around here every night, now, would we?” I shrug and lose the will to give a fuck. “Is that not why you’re here right now, because your wife isn’t in your bedroom waiting for you?”

“Nicoli,” Alexius warns with a low growl.

“No, don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean any disrespect.”Yes, I do. “I would just hate to see a good client like yourself no longer come around here because your wife’s suddenly turned into a good fuck.”

Anthony’s smile fades a bit now. “I beg your pardon?”

“Gesundheit.”

Alexius hisses in warning, and I suppress an amused sigh as Anthony’s cheeks flush a shade darker than they were before.

“If you’ll excuse me. I have a wife waiting for me in the bedroom.” I give Anthony a pointed stare. “If you know what I mean.” I offer him my hand in farewell, and he takes it with a nod before I turn and stomp in the other direction. I’m so sick of always playing nice like I’m a fucking poodle at a party for rottweilers all for the sake of appearances. That’s probably why nature had my brother pass through the birth canal first, because I was the fetus with zero tolerance for bullshit.

My brother catches up with me at the end of the hallway, a bemused smirk playing on his lips. “I should chew your ass for what you just did, but it was just too damn amusing.”

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