​“Da old four-legged filly’s name is Sophie. For da record, she can’t be old and a filly,” he corrected.

​“Who cares about da terminology,” Daisy replied. “My point is... caressin' is bett’r when da favor can be returned.”

​Dante smiled at Daisy for the first time since they’ve known each other, though it was distorted. They’ve known each other since she thundered into town over a year ago. He watched her tear through his once quiet little valley, severing marriages and ripping families apart. The sight of her or who she is turned his stomach being one of the few men who dared to resist her.

​“Ms Storm, I’d rath’r rub on a four-legged filly than a two-legged whore any day of da week.”

​"You sanctimonious..." she started to speak. Immediately enraged, she quickly raised her hand to slap him, but he caught it, holding it briefly in the air. He fixed his eyes on hers. Even behind the anger, he could see the allure in them. Big, brown, and beautiful. He pushed her hand away from him. His pretense of a smile now gone.

“Now yur treadin on da bord’r of trespass," he interrupted her. "I’m gon have to ask you to leave Mam.”