Page 68 of Unforgiving Queen

“I might help her murder you,” I gritted.

That only made him grin wider. “I’m looking forward to our match.”

I always—fucking always—protected my brother when I could, but at this very moment, I decided I would end his existence on this earth if he touched her. I’d make a corpse out of him. My mind began conjuring all the creative ways I could make him suffer.

Did I want to start with a punch? Would that wipe the damn smirk off his face? I could go back to the old Bratva ways and bury his body in the concrete pad of one of my hotels.

So many violent choices plagued my mind.

“You don’t look very happy.” Dante was a master of pointing out the fucking obvious.

I narrowed my eyes. “If you don’t want all your limbs broken, Dante, you will put an end to this.”

He rolled his eyes like I was a nuisance, not the least perturbed. “You know, I believe you, but I honestly don’t give a shit.”

Typical. We both learned apathy too well. Although usually I could tell when Dante was purposely doing something to piss me off. This time I couldn’t.

I faced him. “Why her?”

“Because she’s been part of my videos,” he answered cryptically. So he was using her? “And you have to admit, the girl is gorgeous.”

I ignored his last comment for both our sakes.

“So what, you’re taking suggestions from some fucker who’s sending you videos now?” A few voices reached us, but neither one of us paid them any attention. “Has it ever occurred to you he—or she—might be fucking with you?”

“You can hardly argue evidence,” he deadpanned. “Besides, I talked to Mother and she agreed it might be best to take Reina off the market. To help you move on.”

My body tightened and my knuckles burned, urging me to punch my brother in the middle of the venue.

The knowledge that my mother gave Dante her blessing to marry Reina made me want to do all kinds of shit and none of it would bode well. For any of us.

“Call it off, Dante,” I gritted, my pent-up anger seeping like toxic fumes. “Or I’ll make you regret ever laying eyes on her.”

Instead of heeding the warning, Dante grinned like a maniac. It was the kind of smile he gave the men he was about to kill.

“You’d burn the entire fucking world to ash for a single smile from her, wouldn’t you?”

Was he taunting me?

“I don’t fucking know what you’re playing at,” I growled, “but I suggest you watch yourself, Dante.”

He rubbed a hand across his mouth, almost as if he were fighting off another grin.

As if he read my thoughts, his eyes flashed in challenge.

“You said you’re not interested in marrying Reina,” he deadpanned, probably eager to start a goddamned scene. “Someone will eventually marry her. So it might as well be me.”

Was this his way of trying to tell me something? Fuck if I could decipher it. I took a few moments to compose myself. This night was important to Reina, and I wasn’t going to be the one to ruin it any more than it already had been.

“Youcan’t have her.”

It made no sense what I was saying, but I was past reason. He wouldn’t have her. I wouldn’t allow it. If I had to, I’d murder him in the church before the priest pronounced them husband and wife.

“And here I thought I was doing you a favor.”

My voice was cold but I let it drip suggestively when I said, “Maybe I’ll do you a solid and see if Phoenix is available for a marriage arrangement?”

Anger flashed in his eyes and his jaw clenched. “You know, you’re lucky you’re my brother. I’ve killed for less. Anyone else—” he gritted, unable to finish the sentence. His expression was dark and unhinged. His temper always flared when it came to Phoenix Romero. He was unwilling to admit it, even to himself, but he was pining for her. “My engagement with Reina isn’t exactly off to the best start, but fuck with me, Amon, and you’ll see how crazy I can get.”