Page 133 of Mafia Billionaire's Surprise Baby

I hear voices coming from what I assume is somewhere important and brace myself. Liam might be not immediately murderous, but I can’t guarantee that about anyone else on this fucking boat.

Plus, these assholes kidnapped me. They used chloroform or some kind of weird shit like that. I’m certainly not going to pretend that they didn’t, so cautious is what I am as I creep around the boat.

“… not the one who’s going to make the most impact,” I hear.

Liam responds. “Ah, but she’s going to have the desired impact. A fool thinks that Caterina Rossi is a better bargaining chip than Gia.”

“She’s his sister.”

“Aye, and men burn the world down for their wives, but they’ll trade it again and again for their sister, no?”

I hate men.

I make a move, stepping loudly so that I can get their attention. The talking stops, and sure enough, Liam’s face pokes around the side of the doorframe. “Ah, there she is,” he says with a beam.

“That whole luck of the Irish thing won’t work on me,” I say as I saunter in to the room.

There are two other guys sitting at a crowded little galley table in front of me. One has shockingly red hair, green eyes, and a scowl across his craggy face that would send a lesser woman running. His muscles are approximately ninety-nine percent of his body, and if I had to guess, I’d say that his neck is so thick, he probably needs custom shirts.

Should he ever wear them. Seems more like a Henley guy, if you ask me.

The other man looks… dangerous. He’s slender, but clearly muscled. His hair is somewhere between brown and blonde, his skin tone somewhere between tan and pale, and his eyes glimmer a dark, murky brown.

This is Liam’s spy. I know it. This man could be anyone. He could be any race, he could blend into any crowd. My instincts instantly recognize him. Some of us hide in plain sight, like me. Others, like him…

They’re ghosts. You’ll never see them at all.

I smile at Liam. “Thank you for the shower.”

“Aye. And it looks like you’ve found the clothes as well.”

I glance down. I’m wearing the world’s baggiest sweatpants, which might have belonged to the craggy redhead, but I can’t really tell. My shirt is a Metallica shirt, well loved, and I tug on it while smiling at the crew. “Who’s the metalhead?”

“I’m surprised you don’t already know,” Liam says with an irritatingly amused smile in his voice.

“Well, you appear to have flown completely under my radar, so I think it’s fair to say we’re going to have to start on square one all around,” I say to the crowd.

The ape scowls, and the dangerous one switches a finger.

I sigh and settle into a seat. “What’s a girl got to do to eat around here?”

“Interesting question,” Liam purrs. “Rowan, would you care to fetch the lady something?”

The large redhead stands, and I raise an eyebrow. “The hell kind of potatoes do you eat?”

“You don’t speak,” he grunts.

“You’re definitely not going to keep me quiet,” I inform him.

The other one leans forward while Rowan stomps to a cabinet. “You definitely gave us a run for our money, Gia.”

I smirk. He’s not Irish at all. Fucker’s Scottish. “And what money was that exactly?”

A chilling smile creeps over his face. “I don’t think you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“James,” Liam scolds. “You’re scaring the lady.”

“I think it takes far more than that to scare the lady,” James responds.

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