Page 19 of The Mafia Bachelor

This isn’t a big deal, I try to tell myself. Just a job.

It’s a lie.

I’m twitching. Shaking.

“One more rose,” his mother’s voice calls out.

I gulp.

I don’t like this.

I’m so deadened. I didn’t think this was important, but now I’m about to lose Kill, it’s so critical.

Kill stalks around the table. There are half a dozen girls without roses, mostly standing.

I hold my breath as Kill approaches.

“Avery,” he purrs. And it’s only then that I realise that he hasn’t said the name of any of the other girls.

I’m trembling as I take the rose. My fingers brush his, and my pulse spikes.

“Thank you.” It’s a sigh, and he gives me a ghost of a smile.

The relief. I knew. Obviously, I knew he would give me a rose. But as he touches his fingers to my chin and tilts my face up to look into his, my heart flutters.

Then he withdraws seamlessly. “Until next time, ladies.”

How am I going to cope?

7

KILLIAN

There’s a stage. Three chairs facing it, and more behind them, with all the remaining women sitting obediently. My gaze drifts over them until I find Avery, chewing on her lip.

I realise, with some horror, that they are going to attempt to entertain me.

“Killian.” My mother smiles like a snake. I take what’s obviously my seat. Bigger than the rest. My dad gives me a slightly confused look from beside me.

“The rules are simple,” she says. “Dance is the most primal expression of our innermost desires. Irish dance in particular has a long and fine history.”

Oh feck. If they’re all going to do Riverdance, I might shoot myself.

My mam looks at me, and I remind myself that this is the price of almost twenty years of peace. For a mafia family member, I’m lucky. For an Irish mafia family’s only child, it was practically a miracle.

“They’ve had a week to prepare for this dance show,” she tells me. “The style and music are the performer’s choice.” She looks over my shoulder at the women. “And whoever is deemed most talented by Killian will have a one-on-one dinner date with him.”

And I have Avery. I just have to cope with this, until I can have dinner with her. Appease my mother, seduce Avery, grit my teeth through the terrible dancing. This will be fine.

The first woman has chosen, surprise-surprise, Irish dancing.

I watch, wanting to burn out my eyeballs. Next to me, my dad mutters that a machine gun would improve her technique, and I suppress a smile.

The next is Irish dancing too. Better, according to my dad.

Then a blonde. Katy? She’s wearing a tie-robe dress, fishnets, and high heels. The music has a low, thrumming beat. And my stomach sinks as I realise that it’s sexy. A strip tease.

It’s not as though she’s bad, or unattractive. She’s neither. She smiles at me seductively, but my cock is completely uninterested, even as she bares nearly all.