“Why?” She looked like a petulant child with her arms and legs crossed over delicately.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at her. She leaned against the table as well, her legs touching Don’s. Her lips were so deliciously pink I thought I would cry. I could see every thought written across her face: she’s too soft; she doesn’t like our gift. But she was wrong. I liked it more than I wanted to, and definitely more than I should have.
“I want to kill him.”
Valentina couldn’t have looked more shocked. She made a husky little sound in the back of her throat that tingled up my back as her fingers clutched the edge of the table.
Don held my stare with an arched brow, “Do you?”
“Yes.”
“How does a princess ask for things?” Don’s thumb ran across his chin. I tracked the motion, considering.
This time my voice was clear, strong when I told him, “I’m going to kill him, Don.”
His smile widened, if that was even possible. He looked to Valentina, as if asking for her thoughts, but we both knew exactly what she would say. “Anything for our little princess.”
“And next time, I want to be there. I want to cut my name into their skin.”
Valentina’s laugh was a sound of pure euphoria, “Of course, darling! You can be the one to cut it out of their head. I will hold him for you, as Don did for me.”
“Now come,” she stood, holding her hands out to me. I took them, her fingers curling around mine. She pushed my back into Don, whispering into my ear, “I want to see what our darling has picked for our surprise tonight.”