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Their cheers and happiness, and the way they drew her in, she didn’t want that feeling to stop. Each one made her feel comforted, which was a new experience for her.

“It’s time for the pictures.” Her father’s voice disrupted the moment, and she knew she’d never be free from her family, from her obligation.

Nodding her head, she felt a little sick.

Ugly Beast took her hand, and with the MC at their back, they were led outside to where pictures were already being taken.

“Do you want me to kill him for you?” Ugly Beast asked, his lips near her ear.

“Who?”

“Your father. He looks like he could use a bullet.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from her lips. It was insane to think of anyone threatening her father.

“He’s Capo,” she said.

“He’s an asshole that could do with a bullet. Say the word, and consider it a gift.”

It wouldn’t be that easy though. Killing her father wouldn’t change her fate, it would seal it. War would ensue. She knew her father was close with Garofalo. If something happened to him, there would be blood.

She hated her father.

This life.

The unfairness of it all, but she didn’t want innocents to die because of her hatred.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re going to have to learn to grow a backbone, Abriana. If someone offered the same to your father, no one would be able to stop him. You’re nothing more than a piece in a puzzle. He doesn’t care about you.”

“It doesn’t mean I have to be the same. I know you don’t understand, but I know what it means for war.”

“I ended one of your family’s precious wars. I get it.”

She expected him to storm off at their disagreement.

He didn’t.

Ugly Beast held her hand and didn’t let go. She liked this, enjoyed having him by her side, even though she was now more nervous than ever before.

“Why are you shaking?” Ugly Beast asked her.

He whispered this.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you,” she said.

“I’m not upset.”

“You’re not?”

“No. It’s going to take a lot more than you disagreeing with me to upset me. I’m a grown-ass man, not a child. I can take it.” He let go of her hand, and she missed his touch instantly.

Ugly Beast didn’t let her go though. He wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her close.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re going to be saying that a lot while we’re married, aren’t you?” he asked.

“I don’t mean to.”

He kept staring at her.

For a few precious seconds, the world seemed to fall away, and the only two people that mattered were the two of them. She didn’t have to worry about her sister, her father, responsibility, duty, nothing.

All she had to focus on was Ugly Beast.

She had heard some women describe him as the most horrible thing to look at, but she didn’t see it. Sure, he had scars, but did they really matter?

“In the club, you can’t apologize for everything. It’ll be a weakness.”

“Your clubhouse?”

“It’s the Hell’s Bastards’ clubhouse.”

“Will I get to go inside?” she asked.

He stared at her. “You don’t do a lot here, do you?”

The spell was broken, and she had no choice but to glance around. No one was paying them any attention. “I don’t know how to answer that.”

“No, you don’t.” He sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

He glared. “I wonder if I should put a punishment in place whenever you say that.”

She gasped, not liking the thought of being hurt. She knew what real pain felt like, and the thought of being hit repeatedly made her feel sick. “I’ll be good.”

Ugly Beast kept on staring at her. “Wow, fucking wow. I’m not going to hurt you, Abriana. We’re going to have to talk, but not here, not in front of your family.”

Chapter Three

Ugly Beast finished his beer and stared across the room. His new wife was doing the rounds, which was what he’d been told he had to do. He wasn’t rubbing shoulders with pieces of shit. He had a feeling Abriana was hurt in some way, and knowing that pissed him off. What he also hated was the fact he had to go and fuck her in her father’s house, and then present the sheets to them tomorrow.

This wasn’t him.

“You okay there?” Smokey asked. “You look like you want to kill someone.”

“I want to spill someone’s blood.” Two someones, actually. Garofalo and Vigo; he wanted to kill them both. Only, he wanted to take his time to make them wish they’d never been born before he got his hands on them.

It would feel so good to watch them bleed out. He liked blood and had gotten used to it during his time as a Hell’s Bastard.

“You will. You’re going to pop a cute little cherry. She’s going to be so fucking tight.”

“Don’t,” he said.

Smokey raised a brow.

“She doesn’t deserve that, and she doesn’t deserve this.”

“You don’t even know the girl.”


Tags: Sam Crescent Hell's Bastards MC Romance