Page 7 of The Bastard Prince

Mean.

Check.

Dangerous.

Check.

Ruthless.

Check.

Cruel.

Check.

Hateful.

Check.

Killer.

Check.

Sexy.

Check.

Terrifyingly beautiful.

Check.

Heaven only knew how I managed to keep my nerve around a man I'd watched squeeze the life out of other men with his bare hands, but desperation did funny things to a girl. Luckily for me, I was rather skilled at the art of composure when surrounded by dangerous men.

Two full sleeves of intricately designed ink, along with a perfectly sculpted and heavily inked chest and back, could be seen through the fabric of Trig's shirt if one stared hard enough.

Iwas that one.

Staring at Trigger Laperro had become an obsession of mine long before he had become a man and long before I realized that my life wasn't mine to live.

All because I was a girl.

All because the family I had been born into was as psychotic as his.

My father, Royce Northwood, was to blame for my caged life. I never had the pleasure of knowing my mother, but since she dropped me on the doorstep of a madman and fled when I was days old, I could only assume that she wasn't worth knowing – or missing. I didn’t even know if she was alive or dead. All I'd ever known was Royce and his associates.

In the event of my father's demise, his only child was to be given to his best friend and business partner, Fabio Crellid, to guard over. My father's demise came sooner than expected – although, one couldn't really broach a guess as to the average lifespan for men in his position – and I was thrown to the wolves at the tender age of ten. Both literally and figuratively.

Because the members of the Crellid family were worse than wolves.

Much, much worse.

Tossed through the gates of the estate by my father's driver and handed over to Fabio Crellid and his mob of murder, mayhem, madness, and misogyny, I quickly learned where I ranked amongst the men in my world.

At the bottom.

Beneath them all.

Not Trigger, remember?