20. Tessa

20

TESSA

T he hum of the private jet’s engines is steady, almost soothing, but it does little to calm the nerves buzzing in my chest. I stare out the window, watching the desert stretch endlessly below us as we approach Las Vegas. My hands twist in my lap, fidgeting with the hem of my dress. The excitement of this trip is undeniable, but my anxiety of the upcoming interview overshadows it.

Ronan sits across from me, his long legs stretched out casually, a cup of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. Even when he’s relaxed, there’s a quiet intensity about him, like he’s always ready to take charge. It’s comforting, in its own way—knowing that he’s here, solid and unshakable.

“You’re thinking too hard,” he says suddenly, looking up from his phone. His dark eyes meet mine, steady and knowing.

“I can’t help it,” I admit, letting out a shaky laugh. “What if I mess this up?”

“You won’t.” He sets his coffee aside. “You’ve been preparing nonstop. You’re ready for this, baby. Trust yourself.”

I nod, trying to absorb some of his confidence.

“You’re going to do great,” he says softly, his voice low and reassuring. “And no matter what happens, I’m proud of you. Understand?”

I look up at him, my chest tightening at the sincerity in his gaze. “Yes, Daddy,” I whisper. “Thank you.”

He leans in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Always, baby girl.”

When we land in Las Vegas, the chaos of the city hits me immediately, and I find myself clinging to Ronan’s side. He takes my hand, keeping me in his hold the entire time, soothing my building anxiety as we make our way through the hotel we’re staying at tonight. I don’t even want to think about the cost of a room here with how fancy and expensive everything looks, but it’s a Savage Entertainment hotel, so it’s nice to see one of their properties in person before my interview tomorrow. I think Ronan chose it on purpose with that in mind.

Six bodyguards surround us, and though I think it’s a little excessive, it’s also touching that Ronan takes my safety so seriously. He knows what it means to me.

When we step into an elevator, Ronan swipes the key card and hits the button for the penthouse. My eyes go wide as I look up at him.

“The penthouse?”

He winks at me and leans down until his mouth hovers over my ear. “Yeah, baby. I want you to see all the beautiful lights of the city tonight while I fuck you up against the floor-to-ceiling windows.”

I tighten my grip on his hand, using his strength to keep me upright as my knees go weak. God, this man. He knows exactly what to do and say to get my body buzzing. All he has to do is look at me a certain way, and my panties are ruined.

“Oh,” I whisper.

He chuckles low in my ear, then straightens to his full height like he didn’t totally just wreck me.

A s I enter the hotel where I’m interviewing, I try to walk as normally as possible despite the ache between my thighs from last night. When he said he was going to fuck me against the windows, I thought he was kidding. I should have known better. By the time we were done, he had to carry me to bed. It was worth it, but I’m feeling like a baby doe on ice today.

Two of Ronan’s men follow discreetly, doing their best to blend in with the Las Vegas crowd. Ronan offered to come with me, but I didn’t think it would be very professional if he did, so he agreed to stay in the casino until I’m done. I could tell he wasn’t thrilled about it, but he relented and agreed.

This hotel is nice but not as beautiful as the one we stayed at last night. From my research, this is the property Savage Entertainment recently purchased. They need project managers to convert it to their brand specifications. The hotel is grand and has a lot of potential to become absolutely stunning.

The bodyguards hang back as I approach the reception desk and am directed to a private meeting room. When I step inside, the man waiting for me isn’t what I expect. He’s younger than I imagined, maybe in his late thirties, with tattoos covering his arms and even a couple of small ones on his face. I’m more surprised by his age than anything else since the CEO of Savage Entertainment is a much older man who I thought would be interviewing me.

“Hi,” he says, standing to shake my hand. “I’m Cash Savage. Thanks for coming in.”

“Tessa Murphy,” I reply, taking his hand, then immediately flinch when I realize I’ve introduced myself by my maiden name. I’m not used to being married yet. I don’t correct myself, though. Murphy is the name on my resume and the last thing I want to do is have to explain and annoy my potential new boss.

His grip is firm but friendly, and though the man has a look that could make grown men squirm, he seems friendly enough.

“Let’s jump right in,” he says, gesturing for me to sit. “I’ve read your resume, and I have to say, it’s impressive for someone who just graduated from college. I wouldn’t normally consider someone so fresh, but the hotel you interned for in Ireland gave you a glowing reference.”

The interview goes smoothly—surprisingly so. Cash’s questions are thoughtful but straightforward, and I find myself relaxing as the conversation flows. He seems genuinely interested in my ideas, nodding along as I explain my approach to project management and problem-solving.

After about twenty minutes, he leans back in his chair, grinning. “That’s all I needed to hear. I think you’re exactly what we need. My father will be disappointed he missed this interview. He’s going to love hearing all your ideas.”

“Really?” I ask, my heart skipping. “I look forward to meeting him.”

He nods and stands, gesturing toward the door. “Let me show you around. You’ll be helping us transform this place, so you might as well get a feel for it.”

We step out onto the bustling casino floor, the hum of slot machines and laughter filling the air. Cash walks beside me, pointing out various features of the hotel and explaining their vision for the renovation. He’s charismatic and easy to talk to, and for a moment, I almost forget my nerves.

But then he glances at me, his expression turning curious. “So, Miss Murphy, I do have something I’ve been wanting to ask since you walked in.”

When I turn to look at him, I hold my breath, waiting for what he might ask.

“What’s with the team of bodyguards surrounding you when you walked into the casino today?”

I blink, surprised. “You saw them?”

He chuckles and points to the ceiling. “Every inch of this place has cameras. I like to keep an eye on things when I’m in my office. You walked in here looking like you were protected by a small army.”

I hesitate, not sure how much to share. “My husband is… overprotective.”

Cash’s eyes narrow, then move down to my hand—and the thin wedding band—before returning his gaze to mine. “Right. My apologies, Mrs. Murphy. I thought I’d seen Miss on your resume.”

Shoot.

My cheeks heat, and I don’t know what to say to that. I had applied for this job before I left Ireland, so at the time, I was still a Miss.

“Um, it’s new, and actually, I still need to update my last name to my husband’s.”

Guilt eats at me that I hadn’t corrected Cash earlier when he’d called me by my maiden name. It’s still strange that I’m married and should be going by Ronan’s last name now.

He nods, a smirk on his face. “Well, I suppose I understand his overprotectiveness. If you were my wife, I’d have you surrounded by guards at all times, too.”

Before I can respond, Cash glances ahead, his grin widening. “Speaking of your husband… I’m guessing that’s him over there?”

I follow his gaze and spot Ronan standing at a distance, his arms crossed, his eyes locked on us. Even from here, I can feel the jealous intensity rolling off him, a silent warning to anyone who dares get too close to me.

“Yeah,” I say, swallowing hard. “That’s him.”

Cash whistles low. “Looks like he’s ready to pull out that gun under his jacket just because I’m standing near you.”

I laugh nervously, not entirely sure he’s wrong. “He’s just… protective.”

“Protective is putting it mildly,” Cash says, his tone amused. “But hey, I respect it. He clearly cares about you.”

I glance at Ronan again, my chest tightening at the sight of him. “Yeah,” I say softly. “He does.”

“Well, I’d like to introduce myself so I can ease his mind before there’s a massacre in my casino,” Cash says, taking a step in Ronan’s direction.

As I follow in his footsteps, the weight of Ronan’s gaze on me, steady and unrelenting, is a reminder that no matter where I am, I’ll always be his. And even though I’m slightly concerned about Cash’s life right now, Ronan’s obvious jealousy makes my panties damp.

Ronan doesn’t spare Cash a glance when we approach. Instead, as soon as I’m within arm’s reach, he pulls me into him and wraps a possessive arm around my waist.

“Baby girl,” he says before pressing a kiss to my temple.

Heat rises to my cheeks as I glance between my husband and my potential new boss. Cash has a smug look on his face as though he knows exactly what he’s doing to Ronan and actually is enjoying it. Meanwhile, Ronan stares Cash down as if he’s a piece of shit on the bottom of his shoe.

“Cash Savage,” Cash says, holding out his hand for Ronan.

If the moment weren’t so tense, I’d probably giggle over these two men silently comparing dick sizes, but I don’t think that would go over well with either of them.

“Ronan Gilroy,” Ronan replies as they shake.

Cash’s jaw clenches, and his shoulders go rigid, his eyes darting to me, then back to Ronan.

“Ronan Gilroy,” Cash repeats slowly as if digesting it.

“Aye,” Ronan replies, and this time it’s him that has a smug look. “The one and only. And you’ve met my wife.”

“Yes. She’s impressed me with her ideas. I can confidently say that we’ll love having her be a part of this project. And, of course, you and your men are welcome here any time. If there’s anything I can do to help ensure her safety while working for Savage Entertainment, don’t hesitate to ask.” Cash offers a firm nod and tight smile, then turns his gaze to me. “I’ll have a contract sent to you within twenty-four hours. I hope you’ll find my offer more than acceptable, but if you have any concerns, don’t hesitate to reach out. Otherwise, I look forward to working with you soon, Mrs. Gilroy.”

Butterflies erupt in my tummy. I like Cash from the short time I’ve spent with him. He seems smart and business-savvy. He also has a dangerous edge to him, one that would probably scare me if I hadn’t grown up around a bunch of mafia men. The fact that he knows who my husband is and what he’s capable of sends a thrill right down to my core.

“I appreciate that.” Ronan runs his thumb over the curve of my hip and looks down at me. “Let’s go, baby girl. I have a special night planned for you, starting with dinner at La Bella Vita.”

Part of me wants to smack my husband for being so outwardly possessive and cavemanish, but the other part of me wants to drop to my knees and suck his cock right here and now. Which is a sure sign that there is seriously something wrong with me. And yet, I don’t care because my husband loves me, and that’s all that matters. Plus, he must not hate Cash too much if he's taking me to dinner at a restaurant inside another of Savage Entertainment’s hotels.

“Ah, excellent choice for dinner,” Cash says with a nod.

After giving Cash a quick handshake and saying goodbye, I let Ronan lead me out to the waiting SUV, where he buckles me in like I’m precious, then winks at me.

“You’re ridiculous,” I mutter, rolling my eyes dramatically.

Ronan shrugs. “Like I said, baby. There will be times you hate me for how possessive I am, but I won’t apologize for it.”

Reaching out, I slide my fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. “Good. I don’t want you to. I like you just how you are. Completely unhinged.”

He chuckles. “Only for you, baby girl. Only for you.”

T he restaurant is stunning—one of those places that feels more like an art gallery than somewhere you’d eat a meal. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting soft light over the polished tables, and a pianist plays quietly in the corner. It’s beautiful and classy. It almost doesn’t feel like it’s something to be found in Las Vegas. More like Italy or somewhere exotic. The only thing giving away that we’re still in Sin City is the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bright lights of all the hotels on the Strip.

Ronan sits across from me, looking completely at ease in his tailored suit, his sharp jawline and piercing eyes attracting attention from more than a few other diners. Every time a woman glances his way, I want to claw her eyes out, and I’m starting to understand the whole dick-measuring contest that took place between Ronan and Cash earlier. But he doesn’t notice—or care. His focus is entirely on me.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, cutting his steak with precision. “The most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen.”

I smile and lower my gaze to my plate. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to all his praise and compliments. He gives it out so freely, yet it feels genuine every time he does. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Thank you for being mine, Little one,” he says simply.

We continue our meal, and I swear it’s the best food I’ve ever had. The steak medallions I ordered are so tender and juicy that I don’t even need a knife to cut them.

The waiter comes over with a bottle of champagne in hand. “Compliments of Mr. Savage as a congratulations on your new job.”

I peer at Ronan, worried he might be upset, but he nods toward the stemmed glasses the waiter set down. “Please send him our thank you.”

When we’re alone again, Ronan raises his glass and waits for me to do the same. “To us, baby. And to your new job. I’m so proud of you.”

My eyes burn with happy tears as I swallow and nod. “To us, Daddy.”

The warmth in his gaze wraps around me like a blanket, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

And then I see him .

It’s just a glimpse at first—a man in the distance, sitting with his back to me at a table near the bar. My heart stutters, a cold chill washing over me as I take in the broad shoulders, the cropped dark hair, and the familiar tilt of his head. But that’s not what makes me stop breathing. It’s the tattoo on the back of the man’s neck. A red dragon. The exact same one… No. It can’t be.

I try to look away, to convince myself I’m imagining things, but my gaze keeps snapping back to him. My chest tightens, my breath coming in short, shallow bursts as panic creeps in. It’s been six years. Six years since I was taken. Six years since I escaped that nightmare. He can’t be here.

“Tessa?” Ronan’s voice cuts through the fog, sharp with concern.

I glance at him, my hands trembling as I set my glass down. “I… I think…”

The man turns, and my world spins.

It’s him. His piercing gray eyes lock onto mine, and a cold, cruel smile curls his lips. He recognizes me.

Then, in slow motion, he lifts his hand and waves, winking at me. It feels like he struck me in the face, even though he hasn’t even touched me.

Every muscle in my body freezes, my blood turning to ice as memories of that dark, suffocating cell flood my mind.

“Tessa,” Ronan says again, his tone low and urgent. He leans forward, his hand brushing mine. “What’s wrong?”

I can barely get the words out, my voice cracking as I whisper, “It’s him. The man who… who took me. It’s him.”

In an instant, Ronan’s entire demeanor changes. His body goes rigid, his gaze darkening as he follows my line of sight. But by the time he turns, my captor is gone.

“Shit,” Ronan mutters under his breath, already pulling his phone out. “Stay with me.”

The next few minutes are a blur of chaos. Ronan signals the bodyguards stationed near the entrance, his voice calm but commanding as he gives instructions in Gaelic. He doesn’t let go of my hand as we leave the restaurant. His grip is firm and steady even as my legs feel like they might give out beneath me. When we reach the elevator, I’m shaking so badly we reach the elevator that he scoops me up like I’m a small child.

“Wrap your legs around my waist, baby girl. Daddy’s got you. I’ve got you.”

I obey, clinging to him like a lifeline, burying my face in his neck so I can hide from the cruel world.

By the time we reach the hotel, I can barely breathe, and I’m so exhausted I can’t keep my eyes open. Ronan carries me into the suite, striding into the bedroom. He sits me on the edge of the bed, crouching in front of me so we’re at eye level.

Why is he here? Did he know I was in Las Vegas, or is it a coincidence? Whatever the case, it’s obvious he remembers me. And that’s the scariest thing of all.

“You’re safe,” he says, his voice low but firm. “Do you hear me, baby? He’s not going to touch you. Not now. Not ever.”

I nod, but the tears spilling down my cheeks betray the fear clawing at my chest. Ronan brushes them away with his thumbs, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone who looks like he’s ready to kill.

“Lie down,” he says softly. “I’ll take care of everything. Do you need to go potty?”

I shake my head, my gaze flicking to the door, the shadows in the corners of the room. “The lights, can you leave them on?”

“Of course.” He pulls the covers back, helping me settle into the bed, pulling off my heels with such care before gently tucking my feet under the sheets. His hand lingers on my cheek for a moment before he stands, his presence a quiet reassurance as he moves around the room. He leaves the overhead light on, dimming it slightly, and adjusts the door so it’s open just enough for me to feel safe.

When he’s done, he drags an armchair to the side of the bed, close enough for me to reach out and touch him if I want to. He sits down, his gun resting casually in his lap. The sight of him there—silent, steady, unyielding—makes something in my chest ease.

“Sleep, baby girl,” he says softer now. “I’ll be right here. No one will get past me.”

I nod and watch him silently for as long as I can until my eyes flutter closed, and I finally succumb to exhaustion.

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