Page 36 of Dating the Don

I turn to glance at him with a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. “Of course.”

He makes a move like he’s going to touch me again, but refrains. He silently passes me the body wash and steps out of the shower to let me finish in peace. I need the moment to breathe. I need the moment to rethink my plan. I might have lost our little battle but I haven’t lost the war. I just need him to think that I’ve accepted my defeat.

I don’t like lying. I never have and I don’t think I’ll ever get to a point where it will be comfortable for me to do it. Even less to Cristiano when he’s put so much on the line for me as it is. But he’s left me no choice. I can’t sit here and do nothing. I know that he doesn’t want me involved. He doesn’t want to put me at risk and, on some level, I suppose I can respect that, but I’m much more capable than he’s choosing to give me credit for.

It takes some time before his breathing starts to level out.

I don’t slip out of the room until I’m absolutely certain that he’s asleep.

He will forgive me for this, he will have to.

I dress in all black, something that would normally make my skin crawl. But when it’s needed, it’s needed. I tie back my hair away from my face as best as possible and don a pair of comfortable shoes. No time to think twice. No time to back out or consider my actions. If Cristiano isn’t going to help me take the revenge that I’m owed, then I’m just going to have to go out and get it for myself.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

MAEVE

Figuring out the territory lines between the Irish mob and the Costa Nostra wasn’t nearly as difficult as some might think. I might not know exactly how to move in these parts, but I have a pretty good feeling that if I show up and start making my presence known, my absentee father is going to take notice. As he’s taken it upon himself to marry off a daughter that he’s never even met, I bet he feels rather entitled to me.

He’s not. He will learn that the hard way if he has to.

I don’t give myself time to think. I most definitely don't give myself enough time to backout of the rash and impulsive decisionI've made. All I know is that I have to go through with this. I'm ready for itto end so I can start the next chapter ofmylife. For so long, I've yearned for peace for my mother's soul, and now the end is in sight. It's so near I can almost taste it.

Into the lion’s den I go.

I took all the money I had saved from my time there, including everything from Cristiano's wallet, and I hailed a taxi. I don't need him following my credit card purchases or, worse, following me before I can put this all behind me.

It would be impossible to accurately say that there’s a visible difference between the Irish territory and Cristiano’s, but I swear that I canfeelit the moment that I pass over the line. The taxi stops outside of a small pub and I tip him well. The man gives me a lingering look before pulling off again. Whatever warning or comment he was going to make, he wisely kept to himself.

I tuck my hair behind my ear, making sure that my face is on clear display as I start to walk. There’s supposed to be a brewery restaurant in the heart of their city attached to a farm-to-table style restaurant. I figure that’s my best shot to find my father, or at least somebody that can point me in the right direction.

The walk will be more than enough to give me the courage I need to handle these next steps.

From everything I’ve heard, nobody gets close enough to that restaurant or brewery without an explicit invitation. The kind of place I would normally avoid at all costs if I weren’t in thisexact and specific circumstance. Though, I’m not exactly looking forward to it.

Maybe a bit of liquid courage wouldn’t hurt.

I enter the next pub on my way. The scent of stale beer and mixed nuts is nearly smothering. My shoes stick to the floor as I walk toward the bar. I slide a twenty across the counter for whatever the bartender suggests. Only a moment later, a mug of foamy beer nearly the size of my head is sitting in front of me. The man doesn’t give me change and I don’t bother asking. I never did like beer. I can’t imagine a world in which Cristiano drinks a beer like this. No, he would opt for something more refined. Though, it’s hard to imagine him in a bar like this in the first place.

He has to have noticed that I’m missing by now. Right? I can only imagine how furious he’s going to be. Half of me is glad. That’s what he gets for excluding me in the first place. The other half of me, however, wants to find a phone and call him to let him talk me out of this plan.

Perhaps that’s the smarter choice, but I’m already here.

Yet, I find myself sliding off of the bar stool with my beer still untouched when a familiar face steps directly in front of me. I might not know his name, but I would know that mug anywhere. He certainly doesn’t look any worse despite having been shot only a few days ago. My blood chills as my almost kidnapper slides close enough to my body to force me back into the seat I had been abdicating.

I slowly lower back into the barstool and I don’t dare take my eyes off of the man for a single second.

“You haven’t touched your drink,” he says casually, like he had planned for us to meet up here this entire time. He angles his body toward where I’m sitting, his well-muscled thighs on either side of my own, effectively trapping me in place here. “Unless you ordered it hoping I would join you?”

I need to play this carefully. He doesn’t know why I’m here. I need to play my part just right. I have to act surprised to see him. It shouldn’t be hard. I knew that one of them was going to find me sooner or later. I just didn’t know that it was going to be him in particular. I swallow hard, trying to keep my fear at bay. I can’t let him see my worry. Nobody will benefit if I do. I have to stay the course. I owe it to my mother at the very least.

When I say nothing, the man takes it upon himself to continue the conversation.

“We didn’t have the chance to get properly introduced at our last meeting.”

I force a soft smile. “I guess I got a little swept up in the excitement of the evening. You’ll have to forgive my oversight.”

The man smirks as a drink is placed in front of him without him having to actually order anything. Just further proof that I’m in the right place. “With a face like yours, I think I could forgive you just about anything.”

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