Page 160 of Jace
Harm he tried to inflict, but fuck that.
I’m a queen.
I’m no man’s victim; I’m the victor.
Quickly, the guards grab David’s orange bucket, seeming glad to leave us with their most infantile captive, I’m sure.
I toss David’s phone at his feet as Jace sucks his teeth.
On the way to the bunker in Jace’s truck, I charged it. I checked it. There were three pictures taken of me that night.
And I meantaken.
Stolen.
I’m not the wrong one for having a drink; it’s not a sin. David’s the criminal for having his way without my consent.
The Queen was right weeks ago. My body is my property, and I didnotgive David permission to touch it, hold it, kiss it.
That’s all that was in those pictures, but it’s enough to have Jace crackling with murderous energy.
Only I can stop him.
“You have two minutes to explain the illegal pictures you took of me”—I arch a brow—“again. Or one minute before the father of my child kills you.”
Yeah, I said it. I want David to know he’s practically dead either way.
His weak chin drops. Slack-jawed, he realizes he’s about to dance with the devil who loves me.
Loves me and my baby.
Reaching up, I loop my arm around Jace’s, my heart fluttering at how hard his biceps flex under his starched shirt. Like a crisp sheet draped over a rocky volcano about to explode.
“Answer my queen.” Jace can barely speak through his rage. “Now!” His roar ricochets, punching the concrete walls and bounding back with warning; he’s seconds away from attack.
David grabs his dishwater-blond hair, his beady eyes terrified. “I swear. I swear I didn’t touch her.”
“Whoops, that was a mistake.” Grant mutters what Jace materializes.
In an advance so swift, Jace slams David against the wall. Holding him by his throat, feet dangling, Jace growls in his face, “One more fucking lie out of your mouth, and it’ll be your last.”
“Tell her the truth.” Nick replaces Jace. Guarding me, my second king wraps his beefy arm around my shoulder. “It’s not hyperbole,bruh,” he mocks. “Wewillkill you for our queen.”
With bulging eyes, David doesn’t know what version of hell he’s facing.
A hulking NFL defensive player by my side. A ruthless, inked lawyer behind me. A covert, killer accountant. A tatted, wrathful man of God. A mountain Mafia man. And Grant? He’s a laughing, lethal enigma.
But Jace? He’s clearly ten seconds away from choking David to death.
Piss runs down his leg. “I… I swear,” he blubbers. “I swear I didn’t fuck Vivian.”
“Goddammit.” That sets Jace off. He lifts David higher by the neck before turning to toss him across the room.
His body lands like a rag doll on concrete while Grant laughs. “Choose your next words wisely, dumbass. ’Cause clearly ‘fuck’ and ‘Vivian’ will get you killed.”
Shaking his rattled skull, David fights for focus. “I didn’t… I didn’t…”
“Careful, boy,” Loch goads. “My biggest brother’s two seconds away from ripping your throat open.”
