Page 50 of Bad Little Bride

Before Philip can make a retort that might get him put on his ass tonight, a second and third man join our little powwow.

I recognize them instantly, straightening my spine and softening my expression out of habit in order to seem unthreatening. Indulgent.

Reggie Moore, member of the eastern district, and once was second to the hidden Henley family. Traditionally run mafia family, as in unlike Enzo, my father, and many others, the Moore family doesn’t play theI’m but a businessmanroutine to the outside world. They simply make sure there’s no evidence left behind to claim otherwise…even though he’s sitting on millions, his only legit business is an old mattress shop in his hometown.

The other is Christof Galley, head of the Galley organization. They’re the go-to for intel, master private investigators with informants and jail rats all over reporting back to them. They likely have more blackmail material than the Playboy bunnies of the past, and that’s saying something. Some call them snakessince they slither their way through, searching for the body or the bomb that leads to the payout, so in a lot of ways, they are. But you don’t hunt for wolves in a field of wildflowers.

I subtly look behind Christof in search of the familiar face I was half hoping to see here tonight, but from where I’m standing, he’s absent.

“It’s good to see you here, Enzo.” Reggie’s eyes slide my way and Enzo’s fingers span out along my stomach, gently ushering us back a few steps, putting more distance between me and the dark, dead-eyed man. “And with a Revenaw, no less.”

The accusation is there, the threat smooth and arctic cold.

There has never been a family tie between the four crime districts and the look in Reggie’s eyes tells us he’s against it, which in itself is interesting considering Enzo technically doesn’t have one of his own.

“Boston,” Enzo says smoothly. “You’ve met Reggie Moore and Christof Galley.”

“Mr. Galley.” I smile, dipping my chin slightly. “Lovely to see you again.”

“Always a pleasure, Miss Revenaw. Nicholas will be sad to hear he missed you tonight.”

His response is swift, the name-drop of his nephew respectful, though I doubt Enzo agrees as his fingers twitch against me, so I decide to acknowledge what he said out of spite. “As am I. If I wished to see anyone tonight, it would be him.” I smile, and it turns a little smug when Enzo’s harsh breath fans across my back, but I don’t miss the odd satisfaction that my comment brings to Christof’s eyes.

I keep my picture of poise, meeting Reggie Moore’s gaze once more, and almost smirk at the accusation in his expression.

I am so done with people tonight and it’s only just begun.

“As for Mr. Moore, we’ve not directly met, no.” I smile, moving my first piece on the game board. I lift my left hand, themen all spread around me like a crescent moon, forcing them all to take note of the little rock settled there. “It’s a pleasure.”

The swell of Enzo’s chest at my back is an unmistakable, unspoken “good girl” and now I wish I hadn’t done it at all.

Reggie is a man of control, as most in this room are, but his gaze pauses on the rose gold band for two beats before he forces himself to accept the pleasantry. Rather than shaking my hand as I had turned my wrist in greeting after showing Enzo’s ownership, because that is how these men interpret a ring on a woman’s finger, he turns my wrist right back, lowering his lips to my knuckles.

Enzo clamps a hard hand on the older man’s shoulder a split second before his mouth is to meet my skin. Reggie must be twice Enzo’s age with double the battle scars, but the man still tenses at the touch…a fact only I am aware of with his hand still wrapped around mine.

Reggie looks up, managing a tight smile, and releases me, albeit very, very slowly.

Enzo swiftly wraps his hand over mine, entwining our fingers together, his palm subtly brushing up and down the back of my hand. Almost as if he thinks his palm will wipe away Reggie’s touch from beneath it, but that’s one of those dumb girl thoughts I need to push away.

It’s a pissing contest, Boston. He’s not actually bothered by the man touching you, just the fact that someone dared to touch what belongs to him.

He’d do the same if it were Katana.

That’s a sobering thought and I’m back to being pissed off.

My eyes catch my sister’s across the room, Bastian at her side, and she jerks her head.

Clearing my throat, all the men snap their attention toward me.

“Well, I’ll leave you all to talk amongst men.” When Enzo’s hold doesn’t loosen, I look up over my shoulder. “I’m going to chat with my sister before we’re seated for dinner.”

There is a warning in his gaze, but if he denies me, it will put a question as to why into these men’s minds. He can’t have that, especially since he’s set on these people believing this lie.

“Of course.” He releases me, and I have to force myself to breathe when his knuckles come up to my jaw, gliding along it as he lowers his head, pressing his lips there.

They’re soft, warm, and full, and gone in a single second.

Satisfaction rings in his gaze, now latched onto me, but it’s gone in a blink.

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