The Bastard Prince (Crellids Book 1) by Chloe Walsh

Author:Chloe Walsh [Walsh, Chloe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-15T18:30:00+00:00

10

"Jefe is... as they say…done to kill you," Patrice warned when he pulled the Bentley up outside St. Marco's Cathedral forty minutes later, after an intense showdown in which I had threatened the poor man with every dirty trick in the book.

False accusations.

Body dismemberment.

Lies.

Tears.

When none of that worked, I'd lunged for the door and shocked the both of us when he didn’t physically restrain me.

"No le pongas un dedo encima. No en enojo ni en lujuria," Trig had instructed.

Do not put a finger on her… Not in anger or in lust.

Patrice followed his orders to the letter.

"And Patrice," he grumbled, sparking up a cigarette from his perch in the driver's seat. "Jefe kill Patrice."

Rolling my eyes, I unfastened my seatbelt and reached for the door. "Don’t worry," I coaxed, pushing the door open and climbing out. "I'll protect you from the wolf."

"Perra loca," Patrice grumbled, shaking his head. "Panocha peligroso."

Crazy bitch.

Dangerous pussy.

Deciding against standing around and arguing with the over-sized hulk, I closed the car door and hurried through the arched doorway of the church.

Breathing in the smell of incense and old people, I slipped through the heavy double doors and into the almost-empty church.

Candles were lit everywhere, and the peace that encompassed my body was potent.

Shivering, I slowly made my way to the altar, passing rows of empty pews, eyes roaming over every straggler I passed in search of Trig.

My body was on high alert, my heart pounding harder with every step I took.

I couldn’t see him and it was making me feel ridiculously frantic.

This is unhealthy, my mind tried to bargain. You need to stop with this obsession.

I couldn't.

I was driven out of my fucking mind with jealously and the thought of him with another woman made me want to scream, right here, in the middle of the church.

Taking a left at the front of the altar, I moved for the next row of pews, only to freeze on the spot when I watched Trig step inside the small, wooden confession booth and close the door behind him.

Relief and hunger roared to life inside of me. Feeling frantic, I glanced around the church and found the priest – the exact same priest from the estate – sitting with a weeping woman a few rows back from the altar.

Moving on instinct and burning curiosity, I hurried over to the confession booth and slipped inside the door next to the one Trig had entered.

Closing the door shut behind me, I sank down on the hard, wooden bench, breathing hard and fast in the darkness of the small confinement.

"¿Padre, estás ahí?" I heard Trig ask from behind the partition separating us and I slapped a hand over my mouth, panicked.

Father, are you there?

Brain on overdrive, I did the only thing I could in the moment; I reached forward and lifted the tiny window shutter.

A tiny stream of light streamed through the little paperback sized shutter.

"He estado teniendo antojos, padre," he began to speak and I sagged in relief, shoulders drooping. "Antojos sexuales con una mujer.

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