Page 14 of King of the Cage

“Maybe I want to make it my problem. You have options, Alice, if you want them.” She wouldn’t be the first woman I’d helped to change her life. When you were the De Sanctis IT guy, faking a new identity was embarrassingly easy.

She stared at me in the mirror. She opened her mouth to speak, then abruptly snapped it shut when her phone rang.

Fear flashed in her eyes; she seemed to realize how close she’d come to spilling her secrets.

“I have to go. Nice to meet you, Giada.” She backed away.

“Wait! What’s your last name? Mine’s Santori. Giada Santori,” I repeated, scrambling in my bag for a pen. I grabbed her hand and turned it, getting a good long eyeful of the brand on the underside of her wrist, trying to memorize as many details of the design as I could. I gently wrote my number alongside the mark, in a spot where her bangles would hide it. There was something about the design that had my spidey sense tingling.

She watched me with a softening expression.

“What’s your last name?” I tried again. With a full name, there was no one I couldn’t track down and keep an eye on.

She gave me a bittersweet smile, stepping toward the door. “I’m just Alice.”

A chattering group of women entered when Alice slipped out, the door swinging shut behind her. I watched Alice go with conflicted feelings. I’d seen women in all sorts of situations in my life as part of the capo’s inner circle. I couldn’t save them all, though God knows I’d tried, but every single time, it broke a little piece of my heart to see someone in need walk away. Iwasn’t the type to let things go. But even I had learned that you couldn’t help someone who wouldn’t let you.

Still, if she changed her mind, she could call. There wasn’t anything else I could do.

The chattering of the women in the bathroom was jarringly loud after Alice’s carefully chosen, scarce words.

I didn’t fancy getting outnumbered by rival Mafia family women, so I headed into a cubicle before they saw me.

“Oh my God, O’Connor’s hot,” one of the women announced. “I’d climb him like a tree.”

I leaned against the stall and shamelessly listened in.

“You think he’s wanting a girlfriend?” someone asked hopefully.

“Like you’d be allowed to date an O’Connor, get real. He’s only good for a one-night thing. From what I’ve heard, he’s insatiable. Must be all those years without in prison…”

The women giggled between themselves.

“You mean he’s a player? I’ve never met anyone with firsthand experience,” one of the women said.

“Me neither. He’s a modern-day urban myth… But realistically, who wouldn’t be a player if they looked like that? All the power of the O’Connor name, none of the responsibilities, and that Irish charm? Who could turn that down?”

“Whatever. De Sanctises and O’Connors don’t mix. Enrico is furious that Bran bested him, though honestly, he made it seem easy, didn’t he?” There was the sound of bags zipping shut; the ladies finished freshening up.

“Let’s get back out there before we miss that fine hunk of Irish beef getting dressed again.”

I waited until they’d gone before leaving the stall. Of course, Bran O’Connor was a hit with the ladies. A man used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it.

Take your panties off, wait in the bathroom, and bend over the sink for me.

He was so damn confident, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a turn-on, but then, I’d never been very good at following orders, no matter who they were from.

You. Just you, Santori.That had been a hot statement, perfectly delivered, by a man who seemed like he knew how to follow through. And yet, De Sanctises and O’Connors didn’t mix, and I didn’t feel like watching the hot Irishman get murdered by my brother.

It looked like tonight, Bran O’Connor wasn’t going to get what he wanted.

What a shame.

The door pushed open, and Sol peeked her head in. “Are you still in here?”

I grabbed my bag. “Sorry. I’m coming.”

She sighed. “Shall we go? The pizza place on Fifth will still be open.” She grinned at me.

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