Chapter 28
Ellie can barely function as she walks stiffly on shaky legs. I smile with pride as heads turn in our direction and they take in her bedraggled state. The way her hair screams just fucked and the dirt coats her previously clean clothes, it’s obvious I’ve fucked her into a stupor.
As she sways, I tug her into my side and pull a server toward me. “Two scotch and a bottle of water.” He nods and disappears into the crowd while I guide us over to a familiar face I actually don’t mind seeing.
I drop into the chair beside him and pull Ellie into my lap.
Whipping my mask off, I blow out a deep breath and throw it on to the table, barely missing the drinks gathered there.
Bren O’Connell’s loud chuckle causes me to smirk as a server slides one scotch into my hand. I pass the water bottle to Ellie and nod for the server to gift Bren with the other.
He salutes me. “Cheers.”
I give him a nod, then take the bottle from a dazed Ellie and open it for her. She takes a sip and rests her head against my chest like a tired child. Protectiveness engulfs me, and I band an arm around her slender waist.
“It’s not like you to make an appearance at these events,” I state.
He drags a thick hand over his mouth. “Yeah. Got dragged here.” He tilts his head to the small blonde woman beside him. She’s young-looking, innocent, and his wife.
I heard through the grapevine how they became a couple; she was found in a crate after being sold as a sex slave, and the crate somehow ended up in the O’Connell family warehouse, and it seems it was love at first sight.
Bren is the Don of the O’Connell family, an opposing Mafia family, who are allies in our world. Having Bren here tonight proves as much to the watchful eyes.
“This is our date night,” his wife declares with a sweet smile that has me chuckling.
Ellie raises her head. “Oh, that’s lovely. Rafael took me on a date recently.” Her brown eyes exude happiness.
I grin into my drink, remembering my first date while Bren rears back, as if stunned at her admission.
“I love your outfit choice. You look like the schoolgirl who just got fucked in the woods by the big bad guy.” Bren’s wife beams in Ellie’s direction, wagging her finger up and down at my girl. “So realistic.”
Bren chokes on his drink while his knowing gaze meets mine, and a smirk plays on his normally stoic lips.
My lip curls, and I can’t help but toy with the girl. “What gives it away?”
Ellie shifts in my lap.
His wife scans over Ellie. “The debris in your hair is perfect, and the way the mud clings to your knees and clothes, and oh my gosh, you even went as far as getting it in your nails, it appears like you’ve been dragged through the woods.” She giggles.
Bren leans closer toward me, his broad, muscular shoulders stretch the shirt he wears, and I wince at imagining him busting out of it. Not something I want to see.
“Heard you’ve been having problems.”
I take a slow sip of my scotch and analyze my ally’s expression, not a flicker of distrust on his face, so I simply gift him with a nod.
“Let me know if you need a hand, I know a team I can trust.” His blue eyes bore into mine. “You can trust them too; you have my word.” I swirl my drink in my glass as I consider his proposal and what he will get from this.
“What’s in it for you?”
He throws his head back on a loud chuckle, causing Ellie to startle, and I want to pummel his face with my fist for causing her distress.
When he finally locks his gaze with mine, all humor is wiped from his face and he gives a shrug. “Never know when I might call on you for support.”
I muse over his response. “Send me the details.”
He digs his thick hand into his pants pocket and pulls out his phone. Within seconds, mine pings, alerting me to a message, and I glance down and the message reads, STORM.
“Rafael, we got a problem.” My brother’s panicked voice cuts through our conversation and has every muscle in my body coiling as I snap my attention toward him.
“What kind of problem?” I take a sip of my scotch, feigning nonchalance, when in reality I know he wouldn’t interrupt me without it being necessary.
He shuffles from foot to foot, and his gaze roams over Ellie, and my hold on her tightens. Poor little doll is still in a too much of a dazed state to notice.
Rocco bends to whisper in my ear, “The Nikita kind.”
The hairs on my neck prickle with awareness, my mouth dries, and as Ellie shuffles in my lap; my initial thought is she felt the change in me too.
“Ahhh, what do we have here?” A calculating voice I wished I would never hear again sends my stomach plummeting.
Rocco winces and mutters a “Fuck” as the distinct clicking of heels approach.