Page 26 of Unchained

She tuts, hand on hip. “I’m sure someone else will enjoy the view even if you don’t.”

And with that, she walks to her Rolls, gets in, and doesn’t even glance back.

Her father beelines towards me, extending out his hand. I take it and give him a firm handshake.

“If you hurt my daughter,” he warns.

“Then what?” I snap.

This fucking family.

He chuckles, pulling his hand back. “This was her attempt at peace, Mr. Sterling. It’s on you if you break the alliance. My daughter is important to our family.”

I let that sink in. He ain’t talking about her like a daughter; he’s talking about her like an asset.

“I’ll see you at the reception,” I say, defusing the situation before I put my fist through his jaw.

I head straight over to my family crowded around the trucks.

“Congrats,” Ace says, almost cheerily.

“Glad it’s over. Now, I need a whiskey. The entire bottle,” I say.

Hunter laughs, slapping me on the back. “Big night ahead of you, bro.”

I’ve daydreamed about bending Gianna over my desk and fucking her since the first time I laid eyes on her.

But it’s a bad idea. Because one kiss had me almost losing my shit at the altar. I don’t want to find out what actually sinking inside her would do to me.

Or how that could potentially fuck me in the ass with a cactus later.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Gianna

One outfit change later and a couple of shots of vodka, and I can just about deal with being in a cowboy bar surrounded by people that hate my family. I thought this would be a small gathering, the same faces from the ceremony.

Wrong.

This looks like an excuse for the Sterlings to party, and I’m the prop that none of them speak to, not even my husband.

“Rosies… I wonder who she is. Must be someone interesting to name a bar after her?” Dom ponders beside me.

“Why don’t you go and investigate that further?” I tell him.

I stir the straw in my drink, watching the ice clink together. My father clears his throat behind me, and a shiver runs down my spine. Dom’s jaw tenses, like it does whenever our father is within reaching distance of us.

“Gianna, I need to speak to you,” my father commands.

I fling the straw out of my drink and down the contents of whatever sickly cocktail I ordered by mistake. And then I follow my father outside into the parking lot.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he seethes, looking me directly in the eyes.

“A dress.”

He grunts. “You call that a dress? It’s an embarrassment. You might as well lay yourself out naked on the bar and ask everyone to take a turn. You only need to sleep with one man tonight, and he sure as hell isn’t going to want you dressed like this.”

I screw my nose up. I thought this was hot; it was more me than a wedding dress, and something to perhaps catch the attention of the man I married.