Page 1 of Prince of Queens

Chapter 1

Dominic

Isettle onto a barstool, loosening my tie as I signal the bartender. "Whiskey, neat," I order, my voice nearly drowned out by the sound of the party. Luca's birthday bash is in full swing, the restaurant packed with revelers.

As I wait for my drink, my mind drifts to that night in Monaco. The opulent casino, the high-stakes game, the sudden chaos when shots rang out. I can still feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins as I tackled Luca to the ground, bullets whizzing overhead. We'd crawled behind an overturned blackjack table, my gun in hand, covering Luca as he called for backup.

"I owe you my life, Dom," Luca had said afterward, his voice gruff with emotion.

I'd shrugged it off then, but the truth is, that night cemented our bond. So when word about his surprise birthday party reached me, despite the potential complications, I couldn't say no.

The bartender slides my drink over just as the guy next to me picks up his beer and walks away. I turn, planning to rest my elbow on the newly vacant spot, when suddenly, my breath catches in my throat.

She's right there, barely an arm's length away, and she's stunning. Dark hair cascades over her shoulders, framing a face that could launch a thousand ships. Her crimson dress hugs every curve, and when she looks up, meeting my gaze, I'm struck by the fire in her eyes.

"See something you like?" she asks, a smirk playing on her lips.

I recover quickly, lifting my glass in a mock toast. "Just admiring the view. It's not often you see a work of art brought to life."

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile. "Smooth. Do lines like that usually work for you?"

"I don't know," I reply, leaning in slightly. "Is it working now?"

She laughs, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Jury's still out. But I'll give you points for confidence."

"I'll take it," I grin, extending my hand. "I'm—"

"No names," she interrupts, surprising me. "Let's keep it mysterious. More fun that way, don't you think?"

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "A woman of mystery. I like it. So, what should I call you then? Red?"

She glances down at her dress, then back at me, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Original."

I raise my glass to her with a grin. "So, what brings you here?"

"Family obligation," she says with a wry smile. "You?"

I chuckle, leaning in conspiratorially. "Let's just say I have a vested interest in the birthday boy's happiness. Old friends and all that."

"Ah, a man of mystery yourself," she teases. "Should I be intrigued or terrified?"

"Why choose?" I counter, feeling a thrill at our verbal sparring. "A little of both keeps life interesting, don't you think?"

She laughs, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "I like the way you think. But tell me, what do you do when you're not crashing birthday parties and flirting with strangers at bars?"

"Who says I'm flirting?" I ask innocently.

She leans in, close enough that I can smell her perfume – something floral and intoxicating. "Your eyes do," she whispers, her breath warm against my ear. "They haven't left me since you turned around."

My heart races, and I have to remind myself to breathe. "Guilty as charged," I admit, my voice husky. "But you, Red, are giving as good as you get."

Her eyes flash with heat as she pulls back slightly, her gaze dropping to my lips before meeting my eyes again. "Maybe I am," she says, her voice a challenge. "What are you going to do about it?"

The tension between us is palpable, electric. I reach out, my fingers brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "That depends," I murmur. "How much trouble are you looking to get into tonight?"

She catches my hand as I withdraw it, her thumb tracing slow circles on my palm. "Trouble? With you? I have a feeling that's an understatement."

I chuckle, the sound low in my throat. "Oh, Red. You have no idea."

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