Page 175 of Claimed At First Sight

I shake my head. “I forgot for a moment that you own this building.”

Perhaps being stranded in traffic wouldn’t have been such a terrible alternative after all.

Then again, a penthouse has multiple bedrooms. Doors. Plenty of space to avoid him. So the penthouse it is. Not that anyone asked for my opinion.

At the table across from us, Cormac Donnelly and his sons push back their chairs and stand, buttoning their jackets.

“They’re leaving,” I murmur, relief loosening some of the tension between my shoulders. I hadn’t realized quite how aware I was of them until now.

“It looks that way.” The lack of concern in his voice is reassuring.

I lean back in my seat and watch them as they make their way through the now mostly empty restaurant. They’re heading toward the exit, and I let out a long breath.

Shay says something to his father. Cormac slows, then turns as though he’s forgotten something.

My entire body goes rigid. The dinner in my stomach suddenly feels too heavy.

What if that something is me?

Because they’re heading straight for us.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Mialina

Maximo sets his napkin beside his plate, his movements unhurried as he watches the Irishmen approach.

Leon is already crossing toward us from the next table, while another of Maximo’s men closes in from the opposite side. They stop several feet from my chair, forming a barrier between me and the Donnellys.

The guards at the other tables rise too. For now, they remain where they are, but their attention is fixed on the three men.

Nobody gives an order. Every man around us seems to know where he needs to stand.

My shoulders drop slightly, the fear that prickled through me when I first saw the Donnellys coming toward us loosening. They aren’t getting anywhere near me without going through Maximo’s security first.

Cormac approaches with Shay and Malachy flanking him, all three appearing perfectly relaxed. The handful of patrons still here might assume they’re merely stopping to exchange a few pleasantries before leaving.

I know better.

Seeing Cormac up close, I realize he’s older than I first thought. There are deep lines around his mouth and eyes, but none of it makes him appear weak. His gaze is too sharp for that, taking in Maximo, the guards, and every route around the table within seconds.

Maximo remains seated, one hand resting loosely beside his plate as he looks up at them.

“Cormac,” he greets with an air of mild boredom. “It must be my lucky day. First Romero, and now you.”

“Ah, yes. We had a meeting with them nearby and thought we’d have some dinner before heading home.”

“At my restaurant?”

The faintest smile touches Cormac’s mouth. “Unfortunately, it has the best steak.”

“That it does.” Maximo leans back, his expression almost pleasant. “And I suppose you stopped by our table because it seemed discourteous to leave without saying hello?”

The words are polite, but his voice isn’t.

Cormac inclines his head. “Indeed.”

His attention shifts toward me, although he continues speaking to Maximo.