Page 148 of The Crowned Garza

He sighs. “Horrible timing.”

I’ll never forgive those assholes. “She’s been blowing up your phone.”

“I know. Let her sweat it out. The longer she doesn’t hear from me, the more on edge she’ll be,” he says. “When she finally does hear from me, she won’t be able to play it cool. Time will be up against her. She’ll make a lot of mistakes.”

“We have some awful, messed-up families, don’t we?”

“Ido—and only on my papa’s side.” He kisses the top of my head. “Youhave a family that loves you very much. Your brothers might be overprotective, but they cherish you and will flip the world on its head for you. Nothing about that is messed up.”

“Look, I just really hate them right now, okay? So let me hate them.”

He laughs. “Only for a little while.”

“Only for a little while,” I agree.

~

I JOG INTOthe guest suite, sipping electrolytes after a furious high-speed run on the treadmill in the home gym downstairs. “So what did she say?”

It’s been five days. Five days of Saint sleeping like the dead for hours on end. On the plus side, he’s regaining his strength and his sleep hours are lessening. I hardly leave his side except to eat or go running like Usain Bolt on the treadmill, lest I implode from rage and anxiety.

Today, he woke up with a surge of energy and is the closest to his normal self than he’s been in days. Making business calls, replying to emails, and having virtual meetings. Good to see, but I’m also worried he’ll burn out and be back to square one by nightfall.

Earlier, when I was leaving for the gym, he told me he would be accepting Iseppa’s call today. It’s been on my mind the entire time, hence my busting in here eager for details.

“Exactly how I thought it would go,” he answers.

“Wow. So she really expects you to just hand over the keys to the kingdom in exchange for me?”

Who does she think I am to him? We’d only metonce. And I highly doubt Saint was having heart-to-heart conversations with her about me.

“Yep. She had a villain monologue and everything.” He picks up his phone and taps the screen, then holds it up for me to hear…

“You don’t want this. You have never wanted this. All I’m trying to do is take it off your hands, so you can go on and live your perfect little happy-ever-after, white-picket-fence life with your little half-breed girlfriend. You don’t want the drugs, the war, the crime? Fine. But don’t try to control the rest of us.Wewant it. Wethrivein it. We want to wreak fucking havoc and reclaim our name and territory, strengthen our presence in the west. We are the mafia! We’re born and die in blood. We—”

Saint taps the “stop” button when I wave my hand dismissively, unable to listen to another second of that unhinged nonsense.

“I could smell the psycho on her the moment I met her.” I take another sip of my drink. “What a waste. She could’ve been a Daenerys, but she chose instead to be a Cersei.”

Saint’s shoulders shake. “How was Daenerys better? She committed genocide.”

“Maybe. But she was a circumstantial psychopath. And she was likable.”

Still laughing, he reaches for me and pulls me onto his lap.

“I’m all sweaty!” I squeal, trying to wriggle away.

“I would drink your sweat like it’s an elixir,piccola regina.”

To prove his point, he swipes his tongue up my sweat-damp neck.

Giggling, I try to get away. But he’s all strength and energy today. “You’re gross.”

He does it again, stealing another giggle from me. Then he buries his face under my chin, nuzzling against my neck like a giddy puppy.

“There,” he mutters. “Now we smell the same.”

I lean in and run my tongue across his jaw.