Page 9 of Claiming His Throne
“Five hundred thousand. Are you sure? That’s awfully generous of you.”
“It’s a cause dear to my heart, Mrs. Giuliani.” Molly smiles at my mother.
“Wait… Maybe there is a way for you to have a seat. I’ve got two plus-ones available. You see, a mother dreams her sons will find a woman and start bringing a plus-one, so I always have a seat saved on the off chance I get lucky. You could come as Alfie’s plus-one.” My mother grins wide. “Oh, this is my son—Alfie. He’d be delighted to bring you to the event on Saturday, wouldn’t you, honey?” Mom turns her southern hospitality smile on me. It’s also the smile that says I better agree with heror else.
“Uh…”
“You said you had more than one son, right? I’ll take the other one,” Molly insists.
I frown. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why the hell wouldn’t she want to go to the gala as my plus-one?
“You’re not going with my brother,” I grunt out. “The event starts at seven. I’ll pick you up at 6:30,” I add before I can think better of it.
“Right, that’s settled then. Excuse me. I really need to go and make sure the florist has everything she needs. It was a pleasure meeting you, Molly,” my mother says before fluttering off, leaving me with the fucking enemy. And now my date for Saturday, I guess?
Molly glares at me. I glare right back at her. “I’m not afraid of you,” she blurts out.
Placing my hands in the pockets of my pants—because as much as I don’t like the woman standing in front of me, I don’tactually want to intimidate her either—I take a step forward, closing the gap between us.
“You have no reason to be afraid of me, sweetheart. I don’t hurt women,” I tell her and lean in a little closer. “Unless they ask me to.”
The intake of her breath has my eyes landing on hers. Her pupils dilate. Her cheeks darken with a tinge of pink, and her chest rises and falls a little quicker than it was a few seconds ago.
“You’d let me, wouldn’t you?” I ask her.
“Let you?” she gasps.
“You’d enjoy it. I’d even bet that you’d let me take you to that table right there, bend you over, lift this dress up to your hips, and bring my palm down onto your bare ass. Can you feel it? The promise of the sting on your flesh? The thrill of the pain that turns into pleasure? But you’d beg me for more. More pain, more pleasure,” I whisper so that only she can hear me.
“You’re disgusting,” Molly hisses, but I don’t miss the way her thighs press together while a slight shiver runs through her. She takes a step backwards. “Let’s get one thing straight, Mr. Giuliani. I am Molly Olive. I will never beg you for a goddamn thing.”
“Challenge accepted.” I smirk, my hands still in my pockets. I haven’t even touched her and she’s this affected by me.
“I’ll meet you in the lobby at 6:30, Saturday night.” Molly turns on her heels and stomps out of the ballroom.
“Alfie, what the hell did you say to her?” Mom walks back over to me.
“Nothing.” Nothing I’m ever going to repeat to my mother, that’s for damn sure.
“I don’t care what your issue with her is. She’s now a major donor, and you will treat her with respect. Not to mention I didn’t bring you up to be disrespectful to women.”
There’s nothing that makes you feel more like a kid again than being scolded by your mother. “I love women, Ma. I’m never disrespectful to them.” I smile wide. I’m not lying. Idofucking love women.
“You look exhausted, Alfie. Go home.”
“I’ll hang around and take you home when you’re finished here,” I tell her.
“Alfie, I do not need you babysitting me. Go home,” Mom says in a firmer tone.
“Fine. I’ll see you later.” Leaning down, I press my lips to her cheek.
I wait until I step outside the ballroom before I shoot a text to my father.
Me:
Mom sent me home.
Dad:
