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Maybe.
Definitely maybe.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Isighed when I finally arrived at Obsydian, our biggest nightclub on the island, which also housed our main operation.
I couldn’t remember a single thing from the drive here, apart from Fee’s beautiful reaction to my command: the shiver, the little gasp when her beautiful lips parted, and the desire glittering in her eyes before she regained her composure and hid it all again.
Damn.
I thought she would be shocked when Bridget called me Master, but she took it as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
I underestimated her.
Or judged her too soon. In more ways than one.
In my mind, I’d made her out as a spoiled jet-setting princess, barely an adult, nothing more than an annoying pain in my ass. But the more time I spent with her, the more I had to admit that she was all-woman.
So what if she was a little over ten years younger than me?
Thirteen to be exact.
But I’d seen women twice her age who weren’t as down-to-earth, headstrong, and intriguing as her.
It would be beautiful to watch her break. To watch her let go of that sassiness, of that tight control.
Be the one to make her hand over control.
Fuck.
No, no, hell no.
She was Fiona Donnelly. Irish mob princess. My sister-in-law’s best friend. There were reasons upon reasons why starting something with her was a bad idea. And all that without even letting my dominant nature take over.
“Hey, boss,” Matteo said when he came up from behind and gave me a hard shove. “I could’ve decked you right there. What has you so occupied that you’re daydreaming instead of watching your scalp?”
I glared at my best friend and second-in-command.
We were within the gated and guarded limits of our little corner of the city. The expansive area housed, apart from the biggest and most exclusive nightclub, a casino on the island, a hotel, a beach club, and a small private marina.
Anybody who would dare attack me here would know he’d signed up to die because chances of making it out alive here were slim to none. Come to think of it, it would probably be wise to have Gabe, Sophie, and Fee relocate here instead of staying at our hotel in Golden Bay.
“Did you organize someone to watch her?” I growled.
He rolled his eyes at me, nodded, then cocked his head.
I usually loved having Matt by my side. The moment I told him about the clusterfuck at home and my plans to spend some time in Malta was the moment he said arrivederci to his family in New York and boarded the next plane—perks of not being the firstborn—to stay by my side for the foreseeable future.
I was lucky to have him around—except when he was seeing too much and knowing me too well—like right now.
“Care to share how spending your day and playing tourist with the little Irish princess went so I can work out how we went from animosity to obsession in a matter of hours?” Matteo said, his voice all innocent, annoying the shit out of me.
“Fuck off.”
I took the first flight of stairs with him hot on my heels. “How are the renovations of the Castello progressing?”
I stopped and turned around.
