Page 30 of The Boss

I lift my chin and let my pouty face fall, squinting and shaking with rage, I say, “You willneverbe my don.”

I admit I’ve felt admiration or respect for this man a couple times, even something like attraction at one point. All of those vanish as he oozes calm condescension, leans back, half-grins like the true psycho that he is, lifts his black eyebrows and says, “We’ll see.”

CHAPTER 18

Quinn

Fuck, this is so much better. The cold shoulder, the loathing. I am confident she is plotting our union’s demise, possibly my death. I’ll need to make sure she stays out of the kitchen and maybe train Shae to check for poisons. Still, this Luna, the real one, is much more bearable than the fake horror Barbie thing she had going on.

She was stoic for the two-hour flight to Boston. Barely ate dinner after barely eating at the reception. She remained eerily quiet and still for the ride to the compound in the back of one of my Range Rovers. Now though, as she watches the trees pass us by on either side, she’s getting twitchy.

My compound is remote by design.

The Quinn land actually stretches for miles in either direction of the fenced acreage. There are old small homes and barns tucked in the trees, structures that were there before I bought up all the properties, but otherwise, just woods. No new homes or neighborhoods for miles. It must feel strange to the city girl on my right.

Finally, we pull through the main gate and she sits back. I can’t tell if she’s relaxed to see the guards and guns and fences—things she’s used to—or if she’s bracing herself.

She should brace herself.

The front gates, the whole house, they’re a sight to behold. It was originally going to be a hospital in the 1920s, but some rich couple snatched it up and added some architectural details and gardens, pools, all the shit to make it seem less like a hospital. Then they turned it into a fortress during wartime. That couple’s children’s children fell into the wrong line of work and ended up in debt to the wrong man. Me.

But they’re still living and breathing in a remote village overseas, and I took over a compound with 59 bedrooms and everything I could ever need for myself and my men. So, a win-win, really.

It comes into view and I hear her gasp and then try to recover.

“Not bad, huh?”

She glares at me, “Looks like an old insane asylum. Of course, you feel right at home.”

I huff half a laugh and then see her tense when the dogs come out.

“Afraid of dogs?”

Again, her eyes are venomous when they meet mine. She looks down to her lap, “Ihavea dog.”

“Thatis not a dog,” I reply. She just scoffs and looks out over the manicured lawns that are now crawling with at least ten giant, barking beasts. “Don’t worry, they won’t attack unless I tell them. Or,” I make a point to stretch across her body, pull on the handle and push her door open. “If they sense a threat to me.” She inhales slowly, and I can’t help myself so I add, “Which, of course, you’re not.”

At that she grits her teeth. She’s so easily riled. Maybe being married will be fun after all.

Tinkerbell arrives first, my baby girl and the alpha of the whole pack. She sticks her head right in the cab of the car, elicitingwhat I’m guessing is supposed to be a bark from Marlon Brando in his little fucking purse.

“Do not eat my dog, Satan!” Luna says, sounding a lot more terrified than she looks.

“That’s Tink. She’s the leader, she needs to sniff you both.”

“Tink? Tinkerbell? That’s her name? Oh, barf, do they all have tiny names?”

“Atrás!” I command Tink to get back. She moves a few paces from the car and sits. “Yes. Except for the runt, Beast.”

“Runt? All I see is a bunch of black horses! None of these could possibly be categorized as dogs,” she screeches. I have to stifle a chuckle as I get out of the car. I have Cane Corsos, Dobermans, Rottweilers, New Foundlands, Great Danes and little Beast, arguably the biggest Boxer ever owned. Still, I see her point, especially when almost all of them converge on the car at once.

I walk around to her side and push her door open wider. She still hesitates, so I grab Marlon.

“No, wait!”

“Manso,”I tell my dogs as I set the shaking creature down in front of Tink.

“Does that mean murder?” She jumps out of the car, looking ready to tackle me or maybe my guard dog.