Page 12 of His Princess (A Man Who Knows What He Wants)

I wonder what I’ll do if he turns on me. If the man my body is screaming at me to give myself to turns out to be my enemy.

But Rider laughs gruffly. “How about ten billion, you deluded fuck?”

“So you’re admitting my sweet niece is there?”

“I’m here,” I yell, anger bubbling up inside of me. “And I’m not coming back. So why don’t you just leave me the fuck alone?”

“That was a cowardly little trick you pulled,” Uncle Aaron snaps.

“It’s not my fault you’re a paranoid idiot who pulls all his guards off duty when an alarm goes off. Or maybe that has something to do with your little cocaine habit, hmm, you druggy fuck?”

I can’t stop the rage from expanding inside of me, filling me up until it’s the only thing that’s real.

I’ve spent the years since Dad’s death ignoring my instincts, my anger because to voice it would give Uncle Aaron reason to hurt me.

Rider glances at me, face tight, raising his hand in a calming gesture.

“Come on, Rider, don’t make me paint this city red to get her back. She’s my niece. She belongs with her family.”

“She’s a nineteen year old woman,” Rider snarls. “She’s free to go wherever she wants. The fact she had to escape is not good for you, Aaron. Not good at all. We can add kidnapping onto your list of offenses.”

“So it’s kidnapping to keep my niece safe?”

“You killed her father, you sick deluded piece of shit.”

Rider’s voice grows louder, gruffer, more intense.

My heart pounds with the force of his words, with the way he rushes without question to my defense, and inside a voice whispers of course he’s mirroring my anger.

Because we were made for each other.

“Now, now,” Aaron says. “Let’s try and keep this civil. How about ten million?”

“I’m not in the business of trading people, not like your Cartel buddies.”

“Rider, let’s be real, what the fuck do you think this girl is going to do for you? She can’t testify about anything. We both know that. She can’t give you any information about the business, because she doesn’t know anything. So what—”

“This isn’t about what I can get from her, you sick bastard.”

“What, then?” he snaps.

“Let me make this clear.” Rider lays his fists on the table, his whole body taut with the throbbing of his muscles as he glares hard down at the phone. “If you or any Cartel fucks try to take my woman from me, I’ll beat you all half to death. Or maybe all the way if I’m not feeling lenient.”

I raise my hand to my mouth, trapping a gasp.

Did I just hear him right?

He said, my woman.

“What?” Uncle Aaron laughs gruffly. “What the fuck are you talking about, your woman? I would’ve known if you’d started a sad little romance with my niece.”

Rider turns to me, his mouth twisted into a savage grimace and a smile, an expression only he could achieve. He sighs, keeping his eyes trained on me, as tears rise to my eyes and try to slide down my cheeks.

“I met your niece an hour ago, maybe less,” Rider snarls. “But it doesn’t change what I said. She’s my woman, and I’ll kill any bastard who tries to hurt her. I’ll fucking execute them.”

He grabs the phone and hangs up, and then turns it off and deftly takes it apart, taking out the SIM and snapping it. He does the same with my phone, moving with fluid motions.

All I can do is stare at him as the magnitude of his words crash into me, my heartbeat thudding like it’s going to shatter my ribcage.

Did I hear him right?

Or am I going freaking crazy?

But Uncle Aaron addressed what he said.

No, I didn’t imagine it.

“I don’t understand,” I murmur, staring across at him certain that any second my heart is going to explode from my chest.

I’ve never felt anything like this, as though invisible hands are grabbing me and holding me firmly in place, screaming at me to accept the full magnitude of this moment.

But a voice whispers inside of me to be careful. This could be a trick, the same way he thought I could be tricking him when I turned up here.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” he says, his voice gruff.

“Oh.”

I let my gaze fall to the floor, uncertainty rioting through me, feeling more acidic and hurtful after the momentary flight my hope had just taken.

I hear him walking over to me, his footsteps heavy, his breathing deep and animal-like as he comes to a stop a few inches short from me. I don’t dare risk looking up at him and reading the regret there, the annoyance.

My mind whirls as I try to work out why he would say that if he didn’t mean it.

Perhaps he’s trying to taunt Uncle Aaron.

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