Page 95 of The Billionaire Who Saved My Cat From The Mafia

“You know that whole thing I told you about the brig and my criminal charges?”

“Of course.”

“No one in my family knows about that except Cal.No one knows we all left the Navy to avoid the senator’s wrath.Everyone thinks we left at the same time to start the company—not because we were being forced out.”

“I’m so sorry, Special K.”

“It is what it is.Someday, when the time is right, I’ll tell them everything.But the time has never been right.We’ve had too much going on.And my head hasn’t been in the right place, if I’m honest.”

She reaches around and squeezes my thigh.“Of course.They won’t hear it from me.”

We ride into the ranch in time to find everyone gathered on the ranch road.It’s shit timing.If I’d just arrived five minutes later, this whole thing could’ve been avoided.But it’s going down.

We’re about to get a MacLaine Family Welcome.It’s a good thing Frankie’s is a strong woman, body and mind.

Aaaaand… we’re spotted.

My entire family lines the ranch lane.They part the way for Frankie and me to ride up.

And that’s when my brain suddenly puts the pieces together—that’s Harper’s car.

And there’s Harper, behind the wheel about to leave.But then she sees me.

She seesus.

And her expression morphs into a mask of barely controlled rage.

She’s positively seething as her eyes bore into Frankie.I feel Boots stiffen in my embrace as Harper slithers out of her car and plasters a painfully fake smile across her face.

“Well, who do we have here?”she asks.

CHAPTER 46

Frankie

Nuh-uh.

No, thank you.

Whatever this is, it’s got “oh, hell no” written all over it.I don’t want any part of this.I would rather have leprosy than knowingly step right into a giant, steaming pile of drama like this one.

Where the star of the show is a woman who’s decided she despises me at first glance.

I know murderous jealousy when I see it.

Unfortunately, I happen to be fluent in that language.You don’t work in a strip joint for any period of time without getting good and familiar with jealous women.Jealousy comes in a lot of different flavors, and I’ve had a taste of all of them.

Some women are jealous because their birdbrained boyfriends deposited their whole paycheck into my sequined thong instead of their joint checking account.

Then there’s the women who agree to be open-minded and take their honey to a strip club for a hot date in order to warm them up for sexy time back at home—only to immediately regret their decision.

Or the brides-to-be who decide to crash the bachelor party and show their beloved who’s boss.And by crash I mean crash.

Like breaking shit.Tables.Chairs.Glassware.Heads.

The woman I’m looking at right now is of the latter variety.She’s an extremely pretty woman, a bit older than me, with strawberry-blond hair and dark eyes.She’s dressed very neat and tidy, everything pressed and crisp, and she’s super fit.She may be dressed in jeans and a cotton blouse, but everything about her isjust so.

And as her gaze goes from me to Special K and back to me, I’m suddenly glad for the gathered crowd.Otherwise, this chick would try to grind my face into the gravel and stomp on my neck.