Savage Mafia Prince

Micah

T he tension in the room immediately ratchets up to something close to unbearable as soon as Patrick steps inside. Tadhg is watching him, keeping his body just out of arm’s reach—out of habit, I assume—but with all of his focus trained on his father. His shoulders are back and his chest out, and I swear he’s standing taller than normal.

Most people wouldn’t be able to see through the act. I can, though. I can practically see the way his pulse is racing by the fluttering of his throat, and I know his eyes are just a little wider than they should be.

“How can we help you?” he asks his father, voice unnervingly level.