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“That’s not a little date. That’s a full-on date. Especially since you fucked him after.”
“I like him. Other than the criminal part. What’s not to like?” I have to come up with more items to put in Eoghan’s Cons column.
“How was the sex? Did it live up to the first time, or was that night a fluke?”
“Even better if possible.” My phone beeps, and I laugh. “That’s him texting me again.”
“Again? You guys text back and forth?”
“Yeah, we do.” I smile at the photo he sent. “He’s got a new baby niece.”
I turn the phone around to show Trista, who squints. “Riordan’s baby?”
My brain twitches, and I cock my head. “How did you know that?”
Pursing her lips, she piles shredded beef into tortillas to make street tacos. “I did some digging on your hottie.”
She’ll be digging her grave if their hacker catches her snooping.
Heart pounding, I say, “Trista, be careful. Their brother is a world-class hacker. For all I know, I’m under surveillance, and that means you are, too. He’ll do a facial-recognition thing, hack into your computers…” I stop when the blood drains from her face.
“I never thought about that.”
We don’t often get mafia cases that include such high-level defendants like Lazaro Scava, the Borgia underboss committing such blatant money laundering. The Millennium Plaza, his brother’s stronghold, checked out. But according to the forensic investigators, all of Lazaro’s finances are off-the-charts irregular.
“Just know, the top three bosses are married,” Trista finishes. “And two of the brothers married both of the local Bratva daughters. Both! Do you have any idea how powerful that makes them?”
Lovely. And I’m fucking their consigliere. I have to be out of my mind.
“They seem like a tight-knit group.” I think back to the crowded defendants table on Black Friday.
“That clan,” Trista corrects. “Whispered informants say they are vicious if crossed. They have that little city locked.”
“Astoria?”
“Yeah. They make the rules. Sure, the main boss goes to fundraisers and throws his blood money around.” Trista knocks her head from side to side. “And sure, it goes to good causes, but it ensures no one questions him.”
“Smart. I guess.” These are killers I’m calling smart! “Sounds like the Irish rule Astoria.”
“Pretty much.”
“I already know about Riordan’s wife.” I swirl a chip in the salsa.
She’s former FBI and she married the underboss. That’s a woman I need to talk to, find out how she reconciled her commitment to law enforcement with her love for a murderer.
“Priscilla’s got a deeper story to tell, all right.” Trista eyes the ribs in my hands. “I’ll tell you her tragic past when you’re not eating. She’s one tough broad.”
Eoghan’s world is full of surprises with so many powerful women. But these men are as formidable as they are smart and wealthy, proving that alphas don’t necessarily want waifs as mates. It makes sense.
I clear my throat, eyes lowered, not feeling like I’m cut from the same material as those mafia wives. Eoghan doesn’t seem the type to do relationships. He’s a world-class flirt and can teach a masterclass in dirty-talk. Those guys are playboys and don’t marry.
Unless they’re forced into marriage. I don’t have anything to offer the O’Rourkes. No Cosa Nostra or Bratva house to come to heel. And I don’t need protection from anyone.
“Keep all of this to yourself.” I level my gaze at Trista. “Don’t even think of writing an article.”
“I’m actually thinking of writing a book.”
I drop my soda and catch it before it tips over. “That’s worse.”
