Ciaran
Ididn’t expect a warm greeting from Adeline’s family. The frown that slipped onto my fake girlfriend’s face when her mother ignored me touched me nonetheless. I rarely get to the stage where I meet the parents, but I’m used to the hardball tactics. And in our line of work, I’d expect nothing less.
I keep an eye on Adeline, overly aware that the guards Boris employs are absolute shit at their jobs, while I walk around the room.
“Well, hello there, son.”
An arm curls around my shoulders before I can get away.
“Da.” To say I’m surprised is putting it mildly.
He’s dressed nicely, but his hair falls in front of his face. There’s nothing like an older man who won’t leave behind the rock and roll decades of the eighties behind.
He pulls me into a hug, shaking my shoulders before scanning the room. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d be here? You by yourself? Or are you with a particular Akatov?”
His tone never changes. His mannerisms and impish grin never leave his face. Something quick and sharp runs through me anyway.
I’ve always thought of my uncle as the cool and composed one. He can drop knowledge on you in one go, leaving a person reeling.
My da is a talker. A storyteller, chatting things up until they become a legend.
His hazel eyes are bright but never leave my face. He continues to smile, one hand on my shoulder.
I swallow, hating how dry my throat is. “Akatov?”
“Oh, Bennie, saw you two.” If he hadn’t brought up Adeline, I’d only be surprised at the fact that he doesn’t have a glass of alcohol in his hands. “At that fancy place down—”
“Yeah.” I nod, admitting I know what he’s on about.
“Expensive taste she’s got. You’ll need to watch that one.”
His laughter skitters across my skin. I roll my shoulders, my suit jacket too tight. Especially when those hazel eyes sharpen.
“You’ll want to be careful, though, son.” He squeezes my shoulder affectionately. As if he’s a doting father. “You know I’ve just had to tell Boris he has a bit of a problem.”
Since childhood, I’ve known when Cain Murray is about to screw me over.
Da leans forward, whispering. “You know Wallen; you know who that is?” I nod, my lips pressing together. “There’s been chatter. Bad stuff going around. I’ve just dropped Boris a tidbit, told him to keep a closer eye on his.”
I force a smile on my face. In response, one grows on Da’s lips.
He grabs the back of my head, pulling me closer. “You know I love you, kid.” His brows lift. It’s the most serious conversation we’ve ever had, and yet, we’re not truly saying a damn thing.
“Da—”
He lets go, stepping back. He holds up what would be a threatening finger if he didn’t pull out the Irish charm. “There’s probably no need to tell you to treat her right?”
Someone comes up, whispering in his ear.
“I’ve got to go, but we’ll see you soon, right?” Da walks away before I can answer.
My teeth might break, I’m clenching my jaw hard enough.
I had something that would have helped me get closer to Boris. My father’s just taken it away.
My hands turn to fists. I’m in the middle of a ballroom, taking deep breaths.
Cain Murray left me in Dublin and never once looked back. He gave me nothing, except his bad habits, which I try to shake off every single day.
I don’t care what he thinks he’s doing, but he had no fucking right. I came here to make moves, and I won’t have the carpet pulled out from under me by a man who's never once protected me.
My breath slowly leaves me, and I force my shoulders back. Adeline is with her sister. I haven’t seen Gia Akatov since she barely side-eyed me.
But I do see her husband, Boris.
I stride forward, my hands in my pocket and Uncle Cormac’s advice in my ear: in chaos we look for a calm man.
The man Boris is speaking to spots me first. Boris swings around.
How is this man Adeline’s favorite person in the world? His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. If we weren’t inside, he’d probably be waving a cigar around. He’s a smug bastard that is out of touch with the world around him.
He offers me a hand, though. “Cain’s son, yes? Ciaran?”
“O’Connell.” We shake.
The live band on stage begins playing a new song, my skull vibrating.
“And you’re dating my daughter?” Boris smiles wider. But again, it’s not friendly.
I see you, motherfucker, and I don’t like you, he seems to say.
The feeling is mutual.
“Yes, I wanted to introduce myself.” I follow Boris’s gaze, who glances over my shoulder. His two daughters are still talking.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Boris says. “I always enjoy seeing the men Adeline chooses to wine and dine.”
He spots something on my face.
“She took you to lunch at Bièvre, yes?”
Where I met Henson.
“Lovely spot,” Boris says. “A fan favorite in our house. I hope you enjoyed the meal.”
My muscles tense. I paid for that meal, but you wouldn’t think so based on the way Boris stares at me. Like I’m a fool to be pitied.
I’d joked in Adeline’s car about being a kept man, but I can pay my fucking bills. I’m not living in some gender swapped Pretty Woman narrative.
Boris sighs, slipping his hands into his pocket. Like he’s taking the time to explain things. “You are a man of no worth, Ciaran. And not because you can’t afford to take my daughter to lunch. The work you and the O'Connells do is shoddy at best.”
He’ll find out soon enough that going after my family is the wrong move.
“I trust Adeline,” Boris says. “But I also know her. She might entertain the Irish accent, but my daughter is goal oriented. She’s a thinker and a planner and—”
“I’m a guy fighting at Leon’s.”
One of his brows lifts.
“I never expected Adeline Marie Akatov to like a guy like me.”
He doesn’t like my use of her full name.
“I am a lucky man,” I tell her father. “I suppose I’ll wait around for my marching orders, but until then. . .”
We’re at a stalemate. Boris was the one who implied Adeline would tire of me and move on. He’ll have to be the one to come to terms until that time comes.
“Dad.” Adeline appears by my shoulder, looking between us. “Everyone in this family has been rude to him. Please tell me there’s at least one person on my side.”
Boris smiles, not immediately breaking eye contact with me. “I don’t think reminding Ciaran that you have guards stationed on you twenty-four seven is rude.”
Adeline’s body curls into my side. She pulls my hand out of my pocket so she can hold onto it.
She squeezes tight when Boris brings up the bodyguards.
I survived being assaulted and was almost killed, but I’m all good now. That’s what Adeline said to me last week at the restaurant. She didn’t know it, but I’d short circuited over the words before forcing myself to go over to Henson. Partly because I didn’t know how to respond.
I can feel something, subtle as it is, radiating off Adeline. She smiles all the time. Mainly sarcastic when I’m around. She forces herself to always appear okay.
I’ll never be able to forgive Boris for not realizing he put Adeline in danger.
“And on that note, we’re leaving.” Adeline tugs me away. I nod in goodbye, noting Boris’s narrowed eyes.
“Lovely family you’ve got,” I murmur, wishing a half-second later my accent would swallow the words.
Adeline’s shoulders tense.
“I need to speak to you,” she says, continuing to pull me forward.
“Can’t it wait?” I ask, seeing someone I’d like a chance to speak to.
She speeds up, pushing a door open. The hallway lights are dimmer, and the noise is considerably lower. A few people mill about, women heading to the toilets.
Adeline glances around, not finding the spot private enough. She marches us down the hall, finding an alcove.
“You need to be a better boyfriend,” she declares, whirling to face me.
I’ve just gotten shit on by her entire fucking family.
“You need to be a better girlfriend.” The words snap from me, a gut reaction now that I don’t have to remain aloof in a ballroom.
Adeline huffs, frowning at the insult. “I’ve been fucking great!”
I don’t know what the fuck she’s on about.
A lock of hair has fallen from the elaborate updo she’s wearing. It’s dark against her pale skin. I can’t help but brush it off her shoulder.
She slaps my hand away. “You’re going to tell them about Wallen. Say you heard something. Immediately. Pass it along to our security guards. Play up the doting boyfriend.”
My hand hovers, still trying to play with her hair. There’s something brittle in her voice. I’ve spent enough time in the sparring ring to know a desperate opponent.
She has no idea this part of my plan is already ruined. Her father is aware Wallen is up to something. He can’t possibly know all the details, though, otherwise I’d be dumped in the Hudson. Jack’s death remains our secret.
I could keep looking into the old bodyguard, just to see if I find something. Try to piece together what information he got out of Adeline.
I consider doing this because of some conscience buried deep within me that I hardly recognize. It helps, knowing I hate Jack for how he dared to touch Adeline.
Despite the conscience, I’m still a fucked up man.
“And what do I get in return?” I ask, playing with her hair.
“A girlfriend who doesn’t kill you in your sleep.”
I lift a brow, doubtful.
She lifts her chin. “Networking.”
My hand stills, her hair silky against the pads of my fingertips.
“You need access to people.”
“And what do you need?” I ask because there’s a fire in her that’s not just raging about Jack and Wallen.
Adeline’s chest lifts, and my eyes dip.
“Like I said. You’re going to be a better boyfriend.”
“How am I going to do that.”
I hold back a smirk when Adeline tips her head back, surprised when our chests touch. She’s adorable sometimes. Pretending like she understands the world around her.
“Are there certain requirements you’re looking for?” I whisper.
She pushes a hand into my chest, shoving me back. “Yes, actually. You’re going to be the perfect boyfriend. Do you understand?”