2. Finn
2
FINN
One week earlier
The pub is full to bursting as I walk in, but as ever it instantly goes quiet. I almost sigh. It’s been a long time since I could enter unnoticed. I’ve got my core team of six men with me this evening, but it’s not them that cause the hush that’s broken only by the beat of the music and the whispers and giggles of the women who blush and look over.
Nope, it’s me.
Or rather, it’s the man I pretend I still am.
I wink at the woman next to me, who’s with a guy who bristles but knows better than to say anything to the kingpin of Kilburn.
A man behind me gives a belly laugh. “Finn, you dirty dog.”
Nodding and catching the eye of another woman is second nature to me, but I don’t hold her gaze for long.
Right, duty done, playboy reputation upheld. Now I can get on with business.
Ronan has gone to clear out the table at the back with the best line of sight to the whole room, and I prowl through the crowd, which parts for me, as natural as the hush settling in a forest as a wolf stalks through. But they also greet me nervously, eager to please.
“Hi Finn!”
“Hey, Finn, how you doing?”
“Alright,” I acknowledge them. I nod and smile and flirt a little.
How is it possible to feel so fecking lonely when surrounded by people who are desperate to be your friend? I guess I really am one of a kind despite looking just like my family, because I can manage it here in any of my London territory’s pubs, in Ireland, or with the men who work under me in the Kilburn mafia.
It’s as though wherever I go or whatever I do, there’s something missing.
“Richmond is here,” Cormac mutters to me, peering over his shoulder.
“Bring them in,” I instruct him.
Cormac nods and doubles back, finding it considerably more difficult to return through the crowd of partygoers than it was to follow in my wake.
I take a seat on one side of the large circular table in the corner that Ronan is waiting at, and look across the bar. The room has resumed some sense of normalcy.
Everyone is having a good time, which is exactly as it should be. But my god it makes me empty.
“Kilburn,” the kingpin of Richmond says as he arrives with a group of men. I stand and casually smile, shaking his hand and making small talk. We order drinks, and there’s more chatter as we go through the social niceties.
Has he heard about the latest childish stunt that Essex has pulled? It’s a safe topic for a still probationary member of the London Mafia Syndicate, and he agrees. We move on to complaining that Westminster is a pain in the arse for going on about wanting to have fewer kidnaps. Then Richmond is getting into the conversation, warming to me and telling me whatever the fuck the kingpin of Angel has done this time. I’m only half listening, but it’s almost certain the Bratva boss lost his cool and shot someone. That’s the Dark Angel’s brand.
I want to get this over with and not linger. While like any Kilburn pub, this place has great craic, I’d honestly prefer to be tucked up in bed alone. Pick a girl to pretend to take with me and then put her in a taxi, fake some crisis to attend to, or make a play of being totally scuttered from too much whiskey. The usual things.
Most of the people in the pub are half my age, and drawn by my power and money, as well as the legendary Kilburn charm. And they’re all…
Except, no.
There’s one girl across the bar, who doesn’t fit. Big, anxious blue eyes. Honey blonde hair in a neat ponytail, and a too large jacket covers her shoulders. She’s trying to get the attention of the barman, and failing.
As though she can feel my gaze, she looks right at me, and our eyes lock.
My cock surges, feeling like she’s put her hand on it.
She’s beautiful. The sort of under-rated beauty that goes unnoticed amongst the expensive clothes and makeup of the women around her.
The bolt of recognition is lightning.
She looks as out of place as I feel, and her expression echoes what’s in my chest precisely. There’s so much weight on her shoulders, it’s as though she’s being dragged down by it. Her eyes hold something soft and bleak. Worry, and no way to stem it.
“Ronan,” I cut into Richmond’s story with a summons for my fixer. This is the girl I’ll woo and flirt with and take home. And I don’t think I’ll be putting her in a taxi. No. She’ll be in my bed, all night long.
First time in years.
“Boss.” He’s at my side immediately.
“Invite the girl at the bar with the blonde ponytail to join me.”
He hesitates. “The one in the jacket?”
He’s doubly confused, because it’s been years since I pulled this sort of move during a work meeting, and a girl in a coat isn’t the type I usually select.
“Yes,” I snap. “Now.”
Before she leaves. She can’t leave.
“The Playboy Kingpin strikes again,” Richmond drawls, the note of “I’m not impressed with you” clear and dangerous as a shard of glass in a bar brawl.
Feck. A partnership with Richmond will bring money and power to Kilburn and all who live here, and cement my place in the London Mafia Syndicate. I need him on-side.
But my cock is still tingling in a way it hasn’t for a long time.
I might need that girl more.
“Everyone has their vices, Richmond,” I say, leaning back in a deliberately arrogant and dismissive gesture. As though my action was incidental. It’s better if Richmond isn’t aware of this girl’s significance to me. We’re allies now, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t danger with any mafia interaction.
This girl is different, I feel it in my bones. But no one can know that.
Richmond narrows his eyes. “The goods we talked about. What’s your best price?”
Jesus. So, he’s going to insult me by crassly starting with money talk before we’ve finished our drinks. “Are you enjoying the whiskey? It’s good stuff.”
My gaze returns to the girl at the bar. Ronan is talking to her, but it doesn’t seem it’s going well. My heart thuds.
“You know it’s very nice, Kilburn, what do you want for it?” Richmond’s accent is posh, and irritated.
“Well, it depends on how much you take, and how much you like it.” I reluctantly drag my eyes back to Richmond. “And if we’re friends on a continuing basis, I can do you a better…”
Like the girl is a magnet and I’m base metal, I glance across at her and promptly lose my train of thought when I see that she’s still there and Ronan isn’t.
What?
“Deal?” Richmond growls.
“What fecking happened?” I demand as Ronan approaches.
“She uh.” My fixer looks terrified. “She said no, Boss.”
No?!
She said, no? To me? The dark creature in my chest roars.
“Excuse me.” I’m on my feet in a second.
Despite the music and the people, my little prey spots me out of the corner of her eye, the whites showing stark even in the low light.
“Is this seat taken?” It’s not quite a question to the man in the barstool next to my girl, and the bloke scrambles to vacate it.
The girl opens her mouth, as though to protest.
I take the angel in from head to toe. She’s wearing jeans under a shapeless coat, and her hair is in a messy fall over her shoulder. Her cheeks are dotted with freckles I want to kiss.
“Will you let me buy you a drink, pet?” The endearment is out before I can think better of it.
Pet. An Irish word for a loved one.
I’ve never used it before for a woman. Or anyone. I’m known as a player and a rogue, charming, but not a man who uses cute nicknames. I’ve always felt that would be insincere.
She shakes her head, but her gaze takes me in like she can’t look away. Her little plump lips are a perfect “o”. “I’m just waiting for someone.”
“A boyfriend?” I snarl.
I hope not, for everyone’s sake. I’d break the neck of a man who was between her and me.
But she flushes, her cheeks pinkening.
So pretty. So fecking pretty.
“I need to speak to my brother, then I’m going,” she mutters.
“Who’s your brother?” I follow her gaze to one of the barmen. “Ah, Noah.”
She jolts. “You know him?”
“You could say that,” I say dryly. I’m his boss. I know all my staff. “I’m Finn, by the way.”
The colour promptly drains from her face and for the first time in my life, I regret everything that I am.
Notorious womaniser from my younger years. A billionaire and a businessman, yes, and also a mafia boss who deals in power and blood and illegal trade.
If this girl would look at me again like she did from across the room before she knew my name, shyly curious, I’d give it all up in a heartbeat. I’d rewind time and be a better man, knowing it was worth the wait for her.
But I can’t though.
She’s clearly much younger than me, and that makes me wretched. I should fund research into a time machine, or some anti-ageing shite. I should walk away, and leave her to her innocence.
I don’t think I can.
“You’re the kingpin of Kilburn.” She swallows the last word.
“And you are…?”
“Millie.”
The name I will be repeating as I orgasm tonight is cute.
“Grand to meet you,” I manage to say. How can I get her home with me, right away? Normally, I have smooth words. I’ve even used cheesy pick-up lines or outright demands with perfect success. If I crooked my finger, they came.
Except this girl.
It has never mattered before, and now it does. I have no charm. No moves.
“What do you do?” I ask, like a lemon.
“I’m a nurse.” Her gaze flicks between me and her brother, who is serving a customer. He’s an unassuming guy, but I suddenly have reason to check up on him.
“He’ll be off shift in a couple of hours. Come and have a drink with me while you wait.” I glance across at Richmond. His expression is thunder.
Fine. I can do without the London Mafia Syndicate. It seemed fun and profitable, but so is starring in porn, and I’m not going to do that either.
“I can’t… I have to…” An expression I don’t understand crosses her face. Some sort of distress. “I have to talk with him.”
“What’s the matter?” I suppress the urge to raise my hand and get her brother over with a snap of my fingers. I don’t want her running off, and I need to hear why she’s upset, so I can fix it. “Tell me.”
“No, it…” She pauses, and an idea dawns on her, as transparent as the morning sky. “Maybe I shouldn’t. I won’t…”
“ What is it ?” My voice goes low and firm, like when I’m demanding answers from one of my men.
“I thought I should tell him off for something…” She bites her pretty, plush bottom lip.
“Tell him off for what?” I demand. I can’t help her if I don’t understand what the issue is, and if I’m wrecking the whole deal with Richmond for this girl, I need to know everything.
“But actually, it’ll be better not to right now. I’ll speak to him about it when… Can you not let him know I was here?” She slides from the stool and my heart clenches at how tiny she is compared to me. Five-foot and a bit to my six-foot-five.
“I won’t tell him, but?—”
“I have to go.” She’s already moving away, and I clench my fist to prevent myself from snatching her to me. Can’t scare my pet.
“Stay.” My chest tightens. She mustn’t go. She hasn’t agreed to marry me yet. She hasn’t fallen in love with me. I barely know anything about her, but that there’s some secret about her and her brother, and my heart is already tattered and bleeding that she’s going to be out of reach.
Millie turns her head, and for a long second I’m convinced she’ll sit back down, or come with me to the table.
Then she has bolted away in the crowd, her short height meaning she’s immediately swallowed up.
Little Cinderella, running out of the party without leaving so much as I slipper to trace her by.
Thankfully, it’s the twenty-first Century. I’m going to find out everything there is to know about Millie. Watch her, protect her, discover all her secrets.
Slowly, I make my way back to Richmond.
“Sorry-sorry-sorry-sorry.” I sit down and smile charmingly, though every instinct in me screams that this is irrelevant. She is the only thing that matters. Millie.
“Very young, isn’t she?” Richmond’s lip curls. “Your bit of skirt more important than?—”
I have my gun pointed at the other mafia boss’ head before he can finish his remark. Around us there’s the click of safeties as every man draws.
Anger pulses through me.
“You will not disrespect her,” I grind out. She is too young for me, and a sheen of oily guilt makes my temper burn hotter. “And you will take that back or it will be the last thing you say, the Syndicate be damned.”
Richmond tilts his chin up, and views me appraisingly for a few long seconds, and I think about the war I might have just started.
“I take it back.” He nods slowly. “My apologies.”
Blood still pounds around my body, but I lower my gun, and everyone else follows suit.
There’s a short silence, then Richmond’s mouth quirks up. “You’ll fit in with the London Mafia Syndicate exceedingly well. Let’s talk about a long-term deal.”
Feck, I didn’t expect that.
As we thrash out the details, Richmond’s noticeably warmer towards me, but all I can think about is Millie. And how to make her mine .