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McQUEEN:Las Vegas Bad Boys(28)

By:Frankie Love

“Who the fuck are you?” Frank Grotto asks McQueen.

McQueen looks at Frank, his chest out, his hands raised. “You should be in prison, you motherfucker.”

It’s too much. I don’t know where to start.

But I don’t have to. Frank speaks, and everything changes.

“I’m here because Josephine is my fucking fiancé. We’re getting married in a week.”

Chapter Twenty


I raise my fist, ready to take him down. I've been training with JoJo for weeks, and now it's gonna pay off.

Frank Fucking Grotto.

"You gonna punch me?" he asks, crossing his arms, all smug, realizing I'm the one on the outs. I'm the one who thought this girl was mine. And this whole time she's been with this prick, this bastard who ruined Emmy's sister's life. This fucker who’s been in prison for running a drug cartel.

And now he's standing here, claiming JoJo as his.

I take a step back.

I don't know who I should be more angry with. The girl I've gone all in for, or the man who is taking her from me.

"You're fucking serious?" I ask JoJo. "You're engaged? This whole time, you've had him on the sidelines? Is this some sick joke?"

She covers her face with her hands, hysterical. "No, no—I swear to you, Ryan."

"Don't fucking say my name." My heart turns cold as I stand there, looking at her. This woman I thought I knew so well, the woman I was willing to do anything for, sacrifice everything for.

I've been played this whole fucking time.

"It isn’t what it looks like." She shakes her head. "I love you. I do. I love you."

Man, that motherfucking hurts. She didn't say those words when I said them to her. She didn't say them while I made love to her, while I promised my everything to her.

She says them now when the man she's marrying is two feet away.

"I don't want to see your face again," I tell her, pushing away. I leave the house with her trailing behind me, pleading and in tears. I don't stop.

I walk away, leaving the life I never had a chance to live.


I run out the door, begging him to come back.

He doesn't.

He leaves through the front gate. He has no reason to turn and face me, no reason to plead or promise or pretend.

All I have left is the one thing my family wanted. The thing I sacrificed my relationship with Ryan for.

My husband.

I wipe my tears, my shoulders shaking, my eyes blurred. My heart cracked.

"You done crying?" Frank asks.

I catch my breath, seeing him there at my front door, leaning against the doorframe like he owns the place.

I can't speak; I just walk past him into the house. I want to bury myself in blankets, hibernate for the next fifty years. I don't even want to think about facing a lifetime without the man who loves me.

A lifetime without McQueen. It doesn't seem possible.

"Don't walk away from me, Josephine." Frank grabs my arm, not letting me retreat.

"Why are you even here? Aren't you supposed to be in prison until this weekend?"

"I got out a few days early. Couldn't wait to see my wife. Your pops is the one who set this up, for you and me to be alone this morning."

I narrow my eyes, trying to take my hand from his. He doesn't let me. "My dad knows you're here?"

"Oh, kitten, your daddy knows everything."

Gross, much? I extract my hand more forcefully and try to walk away. But I'm still catching my breath, trying to assimilate with this morning that has spun out of control. "Okay ... so what did he send you here for?"

"He thought we could use a little quality time. Get to know one another better." Frank's eyes have a glint, but not an appealing one. More like an axe-murderer glint. The glint of a man who has spent the last three months in prison.

"I'm actually really tired. It's nice to meet you, and obviously we'll have plenty of time to catch up … but right now I need to rest."

"No, no, no," he says, wagging his finger at me. It's only then that I take a good hard look at this man my father has determined should be my partner for the next sixty years.

He is tall, dark, but not handsome. He has curly black hair, a sharp nose, chiseled cheekbones. He needs to put on about twenty pounds, and beef up a bit. But even then, I can't imagine him losing the creepy mobster vibe.

"You think I'm just gonna let my bride walk away after she's been so naughty."

"I'm not naughty." I swallow, closing my eyes, trying to block out the memories of Ryan and me in my bed just half an hour ago. His arms cradled me as we made love ... and I’ve ruined it. Ruined everything.

"Oh, little minx, you are very naughty. I was told I was marrying a virgin, but we both know you smell like sex. We both know you have another man's come dripping from your pussy."

"Stop—it's not okay to talk to me that way."

"Oh, I think it is. I can talk to you however the hell I want, slut."

I gasp in shock. My family may be messed up, but no one—and I mean no one—talks to me that way. I am the Boss's daughter for one, and for two, the Irish Mob just doesn't speak like that to women. They may think it, but to say it out loud? My dad would never put up with that.

"Oh, you're playing the innocent virgin, still, are you? Even though we both know you're not? Fine. Then it's time to deflower you."

He grabs me by both hands and presses his mouth against mine. All at once he grabs my ass, and shoves his other hand down the front of my pants.

I close my eyes tight, and for a moment I think, this is it. This is my life. I will be the obedient, beaten-down wife of a mobster. I will be a woman who is a commodity, not a treasure. I will be Frank Grotto's prize and I will be nothing.

But then my reflexes kick in. I haven’t been training with Kit for so long to let some skinny-ass man use me. In seconds, I have him on his back in a knee bar, and I gain complete control of him—and myself.

Holding him down, I tell him the God's honest truth.

"I am not a woman you can order around when you want. A woman you can degrade when you want. A woman you can fuck when you want. Understood?" I press my right arm deeper against his groin until he responds.

He gives the slightest nod with his chin, and I release him.

"You tell my father about McQueen being here, and I will cut off your cock in the dead of night. Not a word of this. Tell him I'm with my friends for the night and that you signed off on it. Tell him I have my fiancé’s goddamned approval. I have friends, and I know your enemies. You want to use your cock again? Good, then keep it in your goddamned pants."

Grotto gets up, glaring at me and holding his groin. Leaving the house, he mutters something about calling my father.

Slamming the front door, I run up to my bedroom. I need to pack a bag and get the hell out of here before my father comes home.

Then I’m going to do the thing McQueen has never done.

I'm gonna beg.

Chapter Twenty-One


I leave her house and drive straight to Ace's hotel. Texting as soon as I park, I try to find out where my friends are.

Jack, Landon, and Ace are all getting lunch at a restaurant in the Spades Royalle, and I meet them there.

"Don't you assholes work?" I ask as I slide into the booth with them. It's a sushi place, and everyone's shoving sashimi into their mouths with reckless abandon.

"I work here, douche canoe," Ace says. "And in general, Landon pretends to work. And Jack—well, what are you doing here?"

"I was meeting Ashley in her dressing room this afternoon. Apparently she's pissed about something."

"Fuckin' A, man," Landon says. "That woman has got to go. She's nothing but trouble. Always has been."

"Speaking of trouble,” Ace says, looking at me. “What's this pussy doing here? Don't you help JoJo at the gym about this time?"

I run my hands over my face. Where the fuck do I even start? I figure shock and awe is always a winning combo.

"You know Frank Grotto got out of prison?" I ask, picking up a piece of sushi. I smirk, knowing I have their complete attention.

"You show up at my hotel just to shit with me?" Ace asks.

"Nope." I pop another piece in my mouth, then shrug. I'm suddenly so fucking calm about this whole thing. It's like I'm Mister Miyagi from the Karate Kid.

"And how do you know this?" Jack asks. "He was sent to prison just a few months ago."

"Interesting thing about that,” I say. “He got out. And he's getting married next week."

"What the fuck?" Landon shakes his head. "I don't wish that SOB on anyone."

"Well, I’m sure he and JoJo will have a happy life together." I grin maniacally, because at this point, it's either that or start chucking raw fish across the room. I'm trying not to completely lose my hold on reality.

On the other hand, Ace literally spits his sake across the table.

Jack and Landon don't know whether to laugh at the faux pas or look on with horror. I know they're debating, because they look caught somewhere between the two.

I fill my friends in on the morning. Glossing over my attempt to win over JoJo, only to be swept aside for the man we all hate most in this state.

"Shit, man, what a disaster," Jack says. "I don't even know where to start."

"How about with a plan to get Grotto back in prison?" Ace asks. "Emmy is gonna flip out when she hears about this."