Mafia King (Young Irish Rebels #2) - Vi Carter Page 0,17

want your daddy?” I tease, and I’m questioning why I’m riling her up again? Did I really care if she went to her daddy? Not really.

“Don’t say it like that. You’re disgusting.” More venom spews from her lips.

“You like pissing me off?” I ask, taking a step into the room. She doesn’t answer. “I’m highly fucking confused here, Emma. Why was I told you were willing? No one mentioned that you would be wielding scissors.”

“I was willing for Jack O’Reagan. Not you.”

A hand tightens around my gut, and I try to hide my shock. “Jack?” I say his name before running my tongue along my teeth to try to force back down the onslaught of anger.

“Yes. I had agreed to marry him. Not a savage like you.” She’s still jabbing those fucking scissors.

I’ve been lied to by Jack and Liam. They should have known she would tell me, eventually. They must have known she would be angry and pissed off. My da was right. They have set me up. They have fucking set me up.

“I could have been handed to another O’Reagan. Any of them. No, they gave me to you.” She’s still mouthing off, and the disgust in her eyes, I understand now.

I’m nodding my head at her like I get her disgust, yet my mind can’t believe that I bought into Liam’s lie. Jack. I didn’t expect that. I scratch my brow, trying to ward off the smile. He really got one up on me. I honestly didn’t see this coming.

“I want to talk to my father.”

Emma’s still wielding the scissors, and I’m tempted to force her to use them. I’m tempted to step right up to her so I can feel the fucking burn of their betrayal on my flesh.

“You won’t be talking to your father,” I say to her calmly as I leave the room and make my way downstairs.

“You can’t stop me.” Her shouts have me moving faster as I open a door under the stairs. It’s a clothes closet.

They fucking lied to me. I slam the door with more force than what is necessary. I open another door that’s beside the kitchen door.

The stairs disappear into the darkness below. I switch on the light, and it illuminates the first few steps. It’s perfect and exactly what I had been hoping for.

“You can’t stop me from speaking to my family.” She’s coming down the stairs, so that saves me going back up to drag her down. I leave the basement door open and meet her on the last step of the stairs. She seems startled to see me, and I use the moment to grab her arm.

“What are you doing?” I get her close to the basement door when she pulls back with more force than I expected, and I lose my grip. Her gaze darts to the open door, and she’s backing away from me. “I’m not going down there.” She spins on her heels but not before I see the fear that is back in her eyes.

This time it doesn’t stop me as I chase after her. She doesn’t get far. Her waist is tiny, and I wrap both hands around it and lift her into the air. Her feet kick out and connect with my legs as she drags her nails along my arms. I get a mouthful of red hair as I carry her screaming form to the basement door. She’s fighting with everything she has inside her, and she has a lot. I’d throw her down the stairs; only I didn't want a dead bride. My ribs ache, and I pause at the first step and lower her enough to the ground so I can press her against the wall. Using my chest as a solid wall to her back, she’s trapped.

“Calm down,” I say and press her harder against the wall. I know there is no way she doesn’t feel my raging hard-on. Her cheek presses into the wall, her breath moves locks of red curls, but I can’t see her eyes. I reach up and move the hair aside slowly and carefully, not putting it past her to try to bite me.

“You keep calling me a savage, Emma. So this is what a savage would do.”

She’s looking at me from the corner of her eye. She shifts and rubs up against my cock. “I wouldn’t keep doing that if I was you.” I move my face closer to hers. “Unless you want to.” I want her to want