Page 41 of His Queen

I roll my eyes. “Do tell.”

“Because I was getting sick of hearing, ‘Will your brothers be joining us? When are we doing a Del Rossa gangbang again? Oh, please tell the twins to come wreck my pussy.’” He mimics a whiny feminine voice that’s more like nails on a chalkboard. “I was getting sick of it, so I stopped fucking her, too. And Isaia never really had a thing for her.”

“Isaia’s never had a thing for anyone besides Leandra.”

“I’m telling you, Vera’s sudden insanity is due to withdrawal from her Del Rossa cock addiction.”

I snort a laugh. “It’s a possibility. But whatever her reason for leaving, she has to be taken care of. We can’t afford a wild card like her to be out there spitting out information about us. There’s no way to be sure what she knows, what gossip has been making its rounds.”

Caelian’s expression hardens. “I agree. But if we’re right, and Winslow is working for Nunzio, that means he has Vera, and he’ll be hiding her where we won’t be able to find her—at least until he no longer has a use for her.”

“He’ll kill her when she’s told him everything she knows.” I shrug. “It’s what I would have done. She betrayed the family who cared for her for years, giving her everything she needed. She can’t be trusted, which means there’s not a chance in hell he’ll keep her alive.” I intently study Caelian as I say, “He’ll probably use her as bait at one of those primal hunting parties he hosts.”

“He’ll probably make her a target to one of those psychotic motherfuckers who kills and then fucks.”

I place my elbows on my desk, pinning my gaze on him. “How come you never told us about these parties?”

He shrugs. “Why should I have? It’s not of importance to anyone in this family.”

“Nicoli Del Rossa!” Mira’s voice explodes down the halls like a motherfucking sonic boom. Even the hair on my arms raises with alarm.

Caelian lets out an amused laugh. “What did you do?”

I drag a palm down my face, groaning in response. “Murdered her childhood pony, by the sound of it.”

My office door flings open, revealing a red-faced Mirabella with green eyes that glow with angered flames that are two seconds away from burning me alive.

“You promised me, Del Rossa!” Her voice is pure venom. “You promised you’ll make it right.”

“Baby, what are you talking about?”

“You swore to me that if I backed out of the Carrington-Winslow wedding, you would fix everything you fucked up.”

“I did. Caelian, leave,” I snap when my brother’s grin spreads from ear to ear.

“Do I have to? I feel like shit’s about to go down, and I really want to see it happen.”

“Out!”

“Okay, okay.” He stomps out of my office, but not before flipping me off from behind Mirabella’s head.

“Fucker,” I yell, but Mira’s slamming of the door kills the echo.

“You promised.”

“What the hell is going on?”

Her cheeks are two shades lighter than the scarlet belted trench coat she’s wearing over a tight, black mini-dress and knee-high boots. Add the fire of hell all around her, and I have myself a wife I’m dying to fuck so I can feel her devil claws tear through my skin.

“I just got a call from a frantic bride who managed to slip in a few fucks between the multiple meltdowns she’s having because the florist delivered lavender roses instead of blush. You promised you’ll fix it, Nicoli!”

“And I did. The moment you agreed to drop the project, I ensured that everything was taken care of. The flowers, the dresses, the dessert, the flower girls.”

Mira’s expression freezes. “The flower girls? What about the flower girls? Did you kidnap them?”

“Jesus. No. What kind of man do you think I am?”

She narrows her eyes.

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