by Sam Crescent
Just another reminder of the whore’s daughter she was.
Pushing those feelings aside, she walked with Forge and put food on her plate.
“You can have whatever you want.” Forge turned toward the women in the kitchen. “She belongs to me. You give her any trouble, you answer to me. I won’t have you fucking with her. Understand?” His voice filled the space of the kitchen. He was so loud and commanding.
The women nodded and within seconds, they were gone. They’d rather clear out of the kitchen than risk being near her.
Nice.
No, she felt miserable. No one would ever take the risk to be her friend.
Once her plate was full, she took a seat beside Forge, but her appetite had disappeared. She grabbed her fork and began to work through her food. Her hand shook and she tried to stop it. She didn’t want to draw attention or anger him.
“Those women, they’re club pussy. You don’t need to get mixed up with them. They’ll never be your friends.”
“I didn’t … why did they leave?” she asked. Could he read her mind?
“Because they know not to be around me unless I want them. Don’t ever be alone with club pussy. I’ll introduce you to some of the old ladies. They will more than likely be your friend.”
Did she even want a friend right now?
End of sample chapter
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