Page 27 of Malicious Claim

He punched the table. She was doing everything in her power to get under his skin. Never had he met a woman more nerve-wracking. It had taken every strength in his body to resist her seduction.

He was a master of control. But right now he felt moving guns and ammunition across state lines was more accessible than this battle with the fiery redhead. But he was Makros Crete, the most feared man in the States.

Grabbing his phone, he dialed a number.

“I want you to prepare a dress for my wife. She’ll be coming with me to the club tonight.” He hung up without waiting for a response. “Let’s play, baby,” he whispered.

Chapter Eleven

Calm Before Storm

Makros finished his work for the day and proceeded to his room. He stopped by the door and prepared himself for the destruction he was about to witness. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and walked in. To his pleasant surprise, everything was as he had left it. The ground was spotless, his bed was arranged, and even his walls held no traces of a crazy woman.

He let out a relieved sigh.

“So you do respond to threats.” He chuckled softly, making his way to the drawers.

He dragged them out and found his books arranged how they usually were. Nodding in satisfaction, he stopped by his bed and pulled out a gun from his pocket.

“Mamacita.” He kissed it and returned it under the pillow, where it belonged. “Now, we prepare for the night,” he muttered, heading straight for his bathroom.

He took his time to shower. As the water rained all over him, he closed his eyes, and an image of Leila appeared before him. That fiery red hair with wild lips needed a good kiss to be tamed. Subconsciously, his mouth curved into a smile.

She was driving him crazy, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He was tired of the girls who did as he said, no questions. Where was the fun in that when he could get the biggest dopamine of his life by subduing the stubborn heiress?

He chuckled as the image of her pointing a gun at him resurfaced. That was a crime that would get her killed in hisworld and she’s supposed to know about such a reckless act, her late father was into dirty dealings. It made him wonder how much of her father’s dealings she had witnessed.

Still a princess despite the fucked up world that was their reality.

“A princess that smelled like heaven.” He laughed, rinsing the lather off his body.

Contrary to her opinions of him, he wasn’t a dirty savage who thought sweat made up a real man. He loved to take a shower. His only memory of his mama was her forcing him to take three showers daily. Sometimes, more. That habit never left him. Feeling refreshed, he stepped out of the bathroom half naked. He hung the towel that was supposed to be tied around his waist around his neck, walking straight to his closet.

He opened it, and his heart instantly dropped. His teeth clattered as he glanced through the empty closet. Turning around, a frown framed his gorgeous face. He picked up his phone and dialed a number.

“Where the hell are my clothes?” he demanded as soon as the person on the other end answered.

“What? She messed up my things?” he asked in response to the person at the other end of the call.

He was quiet for a while, fighting off the fury threatening to consume him.

“I need an outfit for tonight,” he finally said after what felt like an eternity, but it was the moment he didn’t feel like strangling anyone anymore.

“Okay, I'll be waiting.” He ended the call, throwing the phone carelessly on his bed.

“That bitch!” he cursed between his teeth.

She had fucked up his clothes. Fuck her and her pretty face! She was trying to get him to go crazy on her, but she wouldn’twin that battle. He’d prove to her he was in charge. He alone knew when to switch between ice and fire.

A knock sounded on his door, and he turned around. “So quick?” He questioned in his heart, as his brow lifted slightly.

“It's Dragon.”

He hissed. “Come on in, Dragon.”

That was the permission his underboss needed to walk into the room. Coming face to face with his naked boss, he blinked a couple of times.

“What? Why do you look flustered?”