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“Welcome to mafia royalty, baby,” she says with a chuckle, as laid back as can be. “So,” she continues, taking a swig of her beer. “Lorcan Quinn. I’ve never met him in person but I’ve heard he’s… quite the firecracker.”
“What do you mean by that?”
She turns her hand into a gun, squeezes an eye shut and pretends to shoot. “I’ve heard he’s trigger happy. Brutally so. Brawn first, brains second.”
I grit my teeth, feeling suddenly protective over him. “Actually, Lorcan’s really smart,” I snap back before I can stop myself. “I think he’s still grieving the death of his father and brother.”
Only when this revelation leaves my lips do I realize that’s probably the case. It’s something I’ve never thought about before. The drinking… the sudden outburst of anger.
A pang of sadness stabs my chest.
Nova cocks her head. “Sorry, baby. Was only making convo.”
“No,” I flash her a smile, not wanting to lose my new-found friend because I’ve caught a case of Stockholm Syndrome. “You’re totally right. I just think he’s a little misunderstood.”
She offers a small nod, suddenly turning serious. “Aren’t we all.” Another swig of her beer, then she says, “I wish they’d hurry up, I’m starving.”
My tummy rumbles right on cue. “Same.”
I glance at the door to the backroom again, and Nova’s words ring out in my ears.If you hear gunshots, duck and run.A sickly feeling settles in my stomach. I know she was joking… but what if she’s right?
It’ll be the perfect chance to escape.
Somehow, that thought disappears into a puff of smoke a few moments later when the door opens and Lorcan darkens the doorway. Relief, no matter how unwanted, floods through me. We lock eyes, and I find myself smiling at him.
His face still hard, he steps out of the doorway and into the suddenly deathly silent room. Gazing at all of the faces staring expectantly at him, he turns his attention back to me, pinning me with that hypnotic gaze.
“Let’s eat.”
Poppy
Lorcan moves against the tide of sequins and bow ties heading to the large dinner table in the center of the room until he’s looming over me at the bar. With a slow turn of his head, he pins Nova with a stare. “Miss Mondez.”
She nods and replies with the same politeness. “Mr. Quinn.” Then she flashes me a cheeky grin, downs her beer, and follows the crowd.
Lorcan turns all of his attention to me. “You made friends.”
I use the straw in my too-strong drink to swirl the lime around the glass. “Friend. Singular. All the other women here are one step above being lobotomized.”
A chuckle rumbles deep in his chest. “Which is exactly why I don’t host these parties anymore.”
“Yes, Orna’s disappointed about that.” I can feel someone’s gaze boring into the side of my cheek, and when I turn round, I see Queen Bitch glaring at me. I say sourly, “The ratty blonde over there is probably disappointed about it too.”
His eyebrows knit in confusion as he follows my eye line. “Vittoria Regazzi? Nothing but a Don chaser.”
“A what?”
“It’s what we call chicks who want to be married to the mafia so bad. Has no allegiance to any family, just wants to be married to a Don. Alessandro Regazzi has fallen for her charms, apparently. So, you might have put up with her occasionally.” I raise an eyebrow, and he chucks me under the chin. “I’ve just made a treaty with the Regazzi family, as well as the Rodrigo Mondez. Your new friend’s father.”
The wedge of lime loses my interest and I match his gaze.Is he really keeping me in the loop?I wonder what could have brought on this sudden change of heart, but I don’t question it. “Will that mean less security around the grounds?”
His jaw ticks. “Not quite yet.” He glances over his shoulder, before pulling me towards him by my waist. “Look, I’m sorry about earlier,” he murmurs, studying my lips. “I’d never really make you fuck every dick in this joint.”
It’s a combination of shock that Lorcan Quinn actually has the wordsorrysomewhere in his vocabulary and his crude choice of words that makes me burst out laughing. He scowls in response. “I might not let anyone fuck you,” he growls, “but it doesn’t mean I won’t fuck you in front of them.”
Heat quickly spreads between my legs, stopping me mid-chuckle. “In that case, apology accepted.”
“Good,” he responds without a trace of a smile. Then he takes my hand in his and guides me towards the table.
