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“Are you flirting with me?” His fingers dance across my shoulder, trailing the soft waves that fall between my shoulders.
My free arm twists behind me, fingers gripping his tightly before I grind them together. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even react besides a slow, dangerous smile. “I would never in a million years waste time on flirting with you,” I grit out. I try to focus on the crowd, but the heat of his body pressed against mine is distracting.
“Ah, I love you too, darling.” My side goes cold as he steps away, those stormy eyes threatening to drown me. “Just remember who holds all the power here, love.”
My smile freezes as I watch him melt into the crowd. His threat means nothing to me. Once I have what I need to end this farce, Killian will be a distant memory. He might think he holds all the power now…but that will change.
And soon.
11
KILLIAN
Iknew I shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be pouring another glass. When I’d agreed to become Sienna’s underboss, I’d put this life behind me. I had to. This past year, I’d avoided alcohol like the plague, but this is clearly a special occasion. Still, the guilt clung to me as I brought the glass up to my lips, the alcohol burning more savagely as it hit the pit of my stomach.
I’m not here to overdo it. Getting drunk isn’t on the agenda, but I can’t deny that Cara and her family hadn’t gotten under my skin tonight. Tonight, I’ll just take the edge off. Tomorrow, things will go back to normal.
A man slides into the seat beside me nervously. He looks out of place in his too-big suit and wrinkled tie. The few hairs he has left on his head are combed over the bald spot, making him look like the greasy rat he is. Eric Green owned a series of cafe chains throughout the city. But he had only been successful because of us.
“Nice of you to meet me here, Eric,” I slide another glass over to him. He tries holding it still as I pour, though his hands shake too much. Some of the whiskey spills onto the bar top.
“I-I’m so sorry. I’ll just clean that right up,” Eric mutters. I force my face into the perfect image of boredom as he wipes up the spill with nothing other than his tie.
“Do you have what I need?” I ask. Taking a sip, I turn to face the rows of liquor on the back wall of the bar.
“Here’s the thing—”
I slip the gun from the holster at my side, slowly placing it atop the wooden counter. Eric visibly pales, loosening the tie around his neck with trembling fingers. “You know I don’t like lies, Eric.”
“It’s not a—”
“Excuses are the same thing.” I glance at him sideways, twirling the ice in my glass. “You were supposed to pay us yesterday. So where is our cut?”
“The—”
“I don’t give a shit,” I bark. He flinches. “You pay us that money for protection. Without it, I’ll just let the Latin Vipers do whatever the fuck they want to with your cafes. See how many customers you get then.”
“No, please. I’m trying to tell you—”
“What?” I snapped.
He shrinks back. “The Russians vandalized three of my cafes. They took everything in the register and damaged most of the goods. It’s going to set me back thousands just repairing the damage alone, not to mention the restocking.”
Fire licks along my veins. “What did you just say?”
“The Russians—”
“That’s what I thought you fucking said.” I snatched my gun from the counter, tucking it beneath my leather jacket. “You have a week. That’s it.”
Eric looks like he’s about to protest before he thinks better of it. Thanking me, he slinks off into the crowd. He’s not the first to tell me their business has been attacked. There have been five separate businesses just this week that have been ransacked, robbed, or burnt down entirely. And every single one of them has been one of ours.
Sighing, I lean against the counter, fingers tangling in my hair. Taking this back to Dante and Sienna would only further solidify their decision to marry me off to the Irish bitch. With the Russians at our backs and tying the knot with the Irish, I just can’t see how it could get any more shitty than that. It just can’t get any worse.
“Killian?”
Clearly, I’m mistaken.
Turning, I see the one person in this entire life that I wished I had never met. Her red hair is straightened tonight, pulled back into a slick ponytail that falls just over her bare shoulder. Red painted lips that only hinted at the sinful things they could do, eyes that promised the wildest night of your life. She’s taller than I remembered, wearing a green pencil dress that’s barely holding on for dear fucking life to every curve of her body.
