Page 9 of Malicious Claim

“Too bad. You’re still coming.”

I wanted to punch him in the face. I wanted to put a bullet between his eyes. But most of all? I wanted answers.

There was a knock at the door.

Makros sighed dramatically. “Ah, looks like our wedding officiant is here.”

My stomach dropped.

“What?”

Chapter Four

The Enemy’s Embrace

MAKROS’SPOV

The silk dress I had chosen for her pressed against her translucent skin like glue on paper, and I envied it. It should be me.

I should be the one caressing against what I imagined was the finest, most succulent nipple, ever known to man. She was playing with my senses in the most troubling way, and I couldn't help the things I wanted to do to her.

“Take a picture, it should last longer,” she hissed, her tone thick with disgust. “It may seem like I've forgiven you, but I will never forget you.” Her voice had a tough edge. It made me smile.

My tigress.

Last night was an epic battle. Between telling the licensed priest I found online to go suck his mother, and flipping the middle finger to the cross when she was asked to say her vows. I was truly entertained.

It had been a while since I met a woman who didn't want to immediately jump on me. I knew what they were all after: money and power. Who didn't want to be called Makros’ woman? Everyone else but this prickly little thing.

“Seriously, stop looking at me,” she snapped.

“Stop looking pretty then,” I teased, but I turned my attention back to the road.

“Did my father have any last words?”

The question was unexpected as it was exciting.

“I remember a word I told your father,” I paused. “I told him to burn in hell. He said when I eventually join him, he would've struck a deal with the devil so he would be personally in charge of my torture.”

I heard her snicker. “He was right, and you might join him in that hell much sooner than you think..”

I barely had time to react when she suddenly lunged, grabbing the wheel and yanking it hard. The car swerved.

“Damn it woman,” I gritted my teeth struggling to regain control.

The car spinned a few metres away from a head-on collision with a truck. We crashed into a street light, glass shattering.

She was wounded. A small cut on her forehead.

“Are you trying to get us killed?” I asked, voice laced with fury. “Now look at what you've done to yourself.”

I reached for the glove department of the car and loaded my gun so she could see. I then took out a Cotton wool and antiseptic I stashed there too. With the gun pointed at her I dabbed at her wound.

“If you ever try that move again,” I said calmly, too calmly. “I will kill you.”

I noticed her special fragrance was starting to fade. I would ask Dragon to find it for her and surprise her with it. See? I knew how to do good stuff too.

She exhaled sharply, and after a long silence, asked, “Are we driving to Italy?”