DECEPTION | MAFIA ROMANCE | SMUT

CHAPTER FORTY

"No, I am not present." My tone dripped with not-so-innocent raillery. "I am on a remote island set along the Caribbean coast, relaxing in a pink, inflatable flamingo, catching a well-deserved sun tan whilst drinking piña colada through a fucking straw!" Christ, I would sell vital organs to the black market for a unique stay in isolated picturesqueness. Anything but this craziness. "Is that alright with you, Your Majesty?"

"You are positively insufferable." The demonic feline disguised in red fabric repositioned onto her side to relieve the strain in her back. "You offer little assistance and even less reassurance."

My eyes flew heavenward.

"The well-timed eye-roll says a lot about your personality." Her rose-coloured nose wrinkled when another painful contraction occurred. "Stop looking at me like I have gone nuts!"

"Where the fuck do you want me to look, huh?" Laughing on the inside like a homicidal maniac, I folded my arms over my chest and focussed on the Bentley's impeccable interior. "I am confined to a small space with you, you nutty fucker!"

"Can everyone just calm down?" Jace undertook the mediation of irate friends, which proved to be pretty pointless because the two of us were too stubborn for our own good. "Brad, be patient."

"I have the patience of a goddamn saint where she is concerned," I fired back, and the disrespectful mare scoffed at me. "Alexa, so help me, God, I will put you over my knee."

"Yeah, right," Alexa muttered something unrepeatable under her breath. "And get amniotic fluid all over the three-thousand-pound suit? Pigs will fly before that happens. Ah, shit." Holding drenched, bloodied tea towels between her legs, she bewailed the consequences of unprotected sex. "Oh, God! Why did I think having a baby was a good idea? I have never experienced pain like it before in my life."

My nerves are shot. I am mentally and emotionally exhausted. If I could take away Alexa's suffering, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I am helpless, useless and purposeless. The most I can offer is moral support.

In a great deal of distress, Alexa made twitchy movements in the leather chair. Her body is crippled with labour pains. When she endeavoured to lessen the extremely strong cramping in her abdomen, groin and back with rhythmic breathing, position changes and controlled vocalisations, muscle contraction seemed to worsen. "Can someone please open the fucking window?" Her anger soared to dangerous heights. "I should not have to ask more than once!"

"It is broken," I lied, her thumbs beating seven shades of shit out of the power window switch. "Will you desist from destroying irreplaceable vehicles?"

The sadistic siren is a furious hater, looking at my hair like she wanted to rip it out of my scalp, at my flawless face like she wanted to rearrange it.

I snatched her slender forearm. Her hot, sweaty skin had my fingers flexing worriedly. My fingertips travelled the length of her arm until the underside of her bracelet-burdened wrist caressed my thumb and threaded our fingers together in an unspoken vow of love, loyalty and respect.

Togetherness and comradeship.

The definition of us.

Alexa is the annoying sister I never asked for, but I would not change her for the world. Sibling support is unwavering, love is unconditional, and tonight, when she blamed me for her anguish, when she yelled and cried and promised never to speak to me again, I will be by her side, holding her hand, helping her breathe through emotional turmoil. Not for the Brotherhood. Not for the institution. Not for Warren Enterprise or even Warren himself. I will do it for her because I love her like any brother loves his pestiferous little sister.