Chapter 4 – Gabriella #2
When I set it down, I continued to study him. From this side, it was clear he had been dangerously good looking. That thick, wavy hair was barely contained with whatever product he’d used. His neck was decorated with vicious curls of ink. And that body….
I shifted in my seat, suddenly uncomfortably warm. But I didn’t let the rush of heat between my legs distract me. We might not be in the dark streets, but I would be foolish to think that the presence of our family and soldiers would protect me from this beast.
“You work at the don’s restaurant.” It wasn’t a question.
“I’m the manager.” I tapped my toe, wondering where the conversation was going. The mobster didn’t strike me as one to use small talk.
“You work often?”
A rumble came from the Irishmen. One of them spat on the ground. Another laughed lewdly and pointed at the group of Italians.
“Every day.” I splayed my hand over my knee to keep it from bouncing. It didn’t work. The nervous energy needed an outlet. “Why do you ask, Mr. McDonagh?”
“It’s Liam.” He turned and pinned me with a look. It was the way I imagined a wolf watched a lamb. Predatorial and hungry. “And it seems suspicious that a capo lets his teenage daughter work where his soldiers drink, then walk home every night—by herself.”
He knew.
The heat of the night turned stifling. I sucked in a sharp breath, but it barely filled my lungs. O dio mio, he knew. He recognized me.
“Breathe,” Liam growled. “You’ll need to remember how.”
Somehow his dark command penetrated the frantic energy holding me captive.
I took a long, deep inhale. That was when I noticed his left ear was also puffy and deformed.
I thought the other was from the burns, but seeing this brought clarity.
The man in front of me was a fighter, his ears scarred to cauliflower.
“I’m twenty-two,” I countered. If he was used to sparring, then I would show him I could too.
“Congratulations,” he murmured.
The ass.
“If you’re planning to use the information to get out of this marriage, don’t,” he warned. “I’m not a man to be trifled with.”
The Made Men rumbled in the distance. Our soldiers were cursing and mocking in Italian, confident that the Irish couldn’t understand. I ignored them. Leaning against the table, I did what was probably the stupidest thing I could have done.
“What kind of a man are you, then?” I dared.
Taunting the beast wasn’t wise.
If thunder had a look, that was what flashed in his blue eyes. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“And make up my own mind? I see how it is.” I wished I had more to drink.
After a pause, he asked, “Your father said you took a trip abroad?”
I summoned my rehearsed response. The key to being convincing was having the details memorized beforehand. Why Papa bothered to tell him this was beyond me. It wasn’t necessary to make an alliance.
“I spent almost a year in Recanati, Italy,” I lied.
“Why?”
Cavolo! It was as if he could smell the deception.
I shrugged, trying for a casual approach. “There’s a famous language school there. I was able to teach a little English while perfecting my Italian.”
“You want to be a teacher?” Liam almost sounded pained to make small talk.
“No, I didn’t like that.” It was true. I would hate to be a teacher. “My family needed me here.”
“Eight months ago.”
I huffed and reached to spin the mug between my fingers. “Someone’s done their homework. What else would you like to know? My shoe size? My email password?”
He glared at me as if I were crazy.
Maybe I was.
“I’m not an interesting person,” I insisted. “No one notices me. I’m not heavily connected with the famiglia. I just work, sleep, and go to church on Sundays.”
The devil leaned forward. His presence swallowed what little air existed between us. “If you’re such a good girl, cailín, why were you lurking by the fence the other night?”
The copper mug I’d been fidgeting with clattered to the metal tabletop. I froze. Words died on my lips.
“Relax,” he said smoothly. “If I wanted you gone, this meeting wouldn’t exist.”
Was he admitting that he would have killed me?
I shot to my feet, suddenly feeling queasy that I’d tried to go toe-to-toe with him. “I’m going to use the bathroom.”
Liam watched me as I picked my way carefully across the back patio. His gaze made me more unbalanced than the kitten heels that tried to stick between the pavers.
“Dinner will be ready in five minutes,” Signora Morelli called out. It was her attempt to rein in the surly pack of mobsters. “Let’s go into the dining room.”
I whispered past my family without being stopped, nearly tripped on the porch steps, and staggered into the don’s house.
Silence pulsed around me the moment the door closed.
It would only be a moment’s reprieve. There was the whole evening to deal with this mess.
Clearly, our organizations didn’t like one another.
It would almost be comical, if it weren’t for the fact that we also weren’t getting along.
The bathroom was a temporary solace.
I took my time washing my hands and smoothing back the strands of hair that wanted to escape the tight chignon at the back of my neck. My minimal makeup didn’t need freshening. When there was no other reason to linger, I opened the door.
And nearly ran into one of the McDonagh men.
“Sorry!” I gave him a smile.
Blond, oily hair fell to his shoulders. Bright blue eyes laughed from a mean face. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
“Who is it?” A second man, who I hadn’t seen, came around him. “Ah, the pretty little posy.”
“Think she’ll get tired of sucking Liam’s crispy cock?” the first snorted.
“I heard it’s shriveled like the rest of him.” The second leaned against the wall.
They were blocking my path.
Dammit. This was why girls traveled in packs to the bathroom.
“What’s the matter, posy? Cat got your tongue?” the one on the wall taunted.
“She’s so fecking pretty.” The oily-haired one lunged for me.
I scrambled back, but not before his sweaty paw raked the front of my dress. Breathing hard, I moved backward until I knocked into something behind.
The man didn’t advance. Not immediately. He held something from his fingers, letting the hall light flicker on the metal.
“Looky here, Johny, a memento.”
My necklace. The one Francesca gave me on my eighteenth birthday. It dangled from his stubby, dirty fingers.
Whatever Johny was going to say was cut short by a bark. Both men went rigid.
Liam prowled behind them. His movements were smooth. Calculated. Silent. He looked between his men, and then that stormy gaze shifted to me.
I refused to cower. Pulling myself together, I brushed my skirt smooth.
“Go sit down, lads,” Liam barked. “Behave.”
The men smirked, sauntering away. The one pulled his long hair to the side, clasped the necklace around his throat, and tossed me a wink before disappearing around the bend.
That left me alone—truly alone—with the beast.
If I ever had delusions that this man would fall in love with me, they vanished. Everything this man did was cold and calculated.
Liam moved forward again, trapping me against the ornamental bookshelf. He was too close. Dangerously close. The scent of pine caught me off guard. I tried not to breathe too hard. But when his left hand raised, I tensed.
His lips moved. A low, song-like cadence rumbled around us as he spoke a language I’d never heard before. The notes were soothing as his fingers plucked at my shoulder where the dress was still askew.
I tried to ignore how the brush of his touch seemed to burn where it whispered over my bare skin. But it was useless. My belly warmed. My nipples tightened. The notes of his alpine aftershave and the sweet words of that language were stronger than the vodka cocktail.
Liam bent his head, words ghosting over my ear. “Infidelity is a sin, little bird.”
The rush of anger snapped me out of the trance. I shoved at him. Leave it to a mobster to think I invited the lewd, carnal attention of brutes.
“How dare you!” I snapped.
Pulling back, those grey-blue eyes flashed. “You can hate me. You should fear me. But that doesn’t matter.”
I narrowed my eyes, glaring up at him. “Oh, and why’s that?”
“Because.” The corner of his mouth tipped in a vicious smirk. “You belong to me now.”
“Not yet, I don’t,” I responded hotly. My blood boiled. “You’ll have to catch me first!”
Pointless words. I was already sold.
“I don’t chase.” Liam ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “I collect.”
Me. He was here to collect me.
His eyes darkened. “But the idea of chasing you is…tempting.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, but before I could formulate a response, Liam moved.
His shoulder brushed against mine.
The skin on my arm crackled from the contact.
The masked devil was gone a second later.
I stood there, heart thumping hard in my chest as I listened to his steps retreat down the hall.
That was the devil, the real monster behind the mask.
There was no pity there. He didn’t hate the situation, and he wasn’t miserable at the prospect of marriage.
Wonderful. Just freaking wonderful.
Once my heartbeat slowed and the spike of shock wore off, I adjusted my skirt once more and tiptoed after him around the bend, down the corridor, and into the dining room to face my fate.