Page 43 of A Deviant Queen

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IT’STHEFOLLOWINGNIGHT, and I’m sitting in my favorite spot on the property, allowing myself some time to think, to process everything. The realization that I have to go through with this bullshit vying ball settles in my chest. Spilling blood today did nothing for the internal turmoil I’m experiencing.

For the first time in my life, I have absolutely no control over the situation, and maintaining control is sometimes the only thing that keeps me sane. Well, mostly sane, anyway. But this time, there’s nothing I could do. No matter how hard I fucking fight, the decision has already been made for me. The future of a mafia princess: sold to a stranger and good for nothing more than lying on her back and bearing children.

Before I can get too lost in my thoughts, I’m distracted by rustling behind me. With long confident strides, the familiar soft steps bring a smile to my face.

“Still come out here to get away from the bullshit, hey?” Lion jokes, but the concern isn’t hidden in his voice. Which means he was called here.

“Old habits die hard, I guess. What are you doing here?” I stand up and walk to stand in front of him. His eyes assess me, clearly figuring out my mood, so he knows how to approach me properly.

“Uncle Nate called, and he said you might need someone. So, here I am.”

“You didn’t need to come all the way from New York to check on me.”

Lion watches me, seeing right through me as he always has. He raises an eyebrow, giving me his “shut the fuck up and don’t test me” look.

“Mal, we have a pact, remember?”

I know my face shows more emotion than I’m comfortable with. Lion is my safe place, but his ability to easily read me pisses me off.

“I protect you, and you protect me. So, of course, I had to come.”

A pact we made fifteen years ago always promising to be there for one another. Something we always bring up when one of us is too stubborn to accept the other’s help.

Lion is my little brother in all but blood and closer to me than my own. He’s my person, whether we’re raising hell, our tempers have us at each other’s throats, or we’re just hanging out. He’s always there for me, and I’m always there for him.

My feet move faster than my brain can process what was happening. Closing the distance between us, I wrap my arms around his gigantic frame. Lion’s body stiffens under my hold, not used to displays of affection from me.

I hold him for a few moments before he relaxes, wraps his massive arms around me, and pulls me closer. I ignore the pain from the wounds in my back. I need his comfort. Aside from my dad—Lion Castello is the most consistent person in my life.

Affection doesn’t come easily to either of us. But he holds me for as long as I need his strength before I rest my chin on his chest and look up at him. His fiery eyes meet mine in concern.

“You’re pretty; you know that, Big Rig?” I joke, and Lion steps back with a groan.

He runs his hand down his face, scoffing at my mood change. I imagine my mood swings aren’t something you get used to, but he hasn’t run away yet. Not that his are any better. The big bastard meets my short fuse with a self-detonator, though he’s calmed down a little since his blonde bombshell barreled her way into his life.

Lion has grown into a beautiful man, around six-foot-four and all muscle, tanned skin from his Mexican and Spanish heritage, messy black hair, and a scar that mirrors mine with its own story. I used to tease him, saying he got the scar to match mine because I look more badass than he ever could. But when the boy became a man. The man became lethal and a leader of the Castello mafia.

The thing that sets Lion apart from the rest is his eyes. Light brown, almost a glowing orange, they’re a war between fire and amber he inherited from his grandfather. A perfect representation of the hellfire this man would reign on this Earth for anyone he loves.

Our fathers grew up together. His grandfather, Antonio Castello, took my dad under his wing and helped shape The Omen. Having his own torturous past, my dad found only good in the Castellos.

They taught him how to use his pain as a weapon. They showed my father what being a family means; that blood doesn’t mean shit in this world. Family lies in loyalty and love.

“We came out here to get away as kids—” I say, deflecting the conversation away from my problems.

“And you’re still coming out here to get away,” Lion sighs. “Don’t bullshit me, Mal. What’s going on?”

I groan as he sets his intense glare on me. I know how much I need this man in my life, but that doesn’t make me want to spit out my shame the second he asks for it. We stare at each other, both unwavering in our goal.

“Fuck off, Castello,” I spit, rolling my eyes as he chuckles at me.

“What can I say? I’m the one person who can see right through you.”

He beams, a cocky smirk playing on his full lips.

“Who do I have to kill?”

“My mother is trying to marry me off,” I say, my voice barely a whisper behind my confession as all the confidence leaves my body.


Tags: Charli Owen Romance