Page 61 of Killian

I sigh. “You’re right. I won’t run off.”

“Good. I’m asking that you stay in mine or Alex’s sight unless of course you are with the Irish man. I know he will protect you.” He leans in, pressing a kiss to my temple. “He did good picking the dress. It’s almost like he knows you,” he teases, lightening the mood.

I blush at his insinuation. He’s known about Killian from the start, but this is the first time he hasn’t made a joke of it, instead his voice staying soft.

“He knows me almost as well as you do.”

He gives me a knowing smile. “He knows you better. Let’s get down there, shall we?” He offers me his arm, cutting off the topic.

Walking out of the hotel room, he leads me down to the staff elevator. We never use the guest ones. Too public.

It isn’t until we are in the car on the way there that my nerves kick up. My chest grows tight as my hands start to feel clammy.

The thought of seeing him with someone else is driving me slightly mad.

While many of the guests are pulling up out front, keeping up the charade of this being a fundraiser, Enzo pulls around to the back door. Once there, Alex checks the area before opening my door, ushering me out and to the door.

I take a deep breath as Enzo leads me through the back halls, through the kitchen, and out through the serving doors.

“You ready?” he asks as he pauses right outside of the banquet room.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Don’t forget” —I pull on my ear, smiling at him— “rescue me if I signal.”

“Always,” he promises.

Stepping inside from the hall, I take in the room.

It’s decorated beautifully, chandeliers positioned strategically throughout the room. The lights are on the dimmer side, creating a more intimate ambiance. There’s a stage against one wall where within an hour someone will stand telling us all about the charity benefiting tonight.

As if that’s the real reason we are here.

Don’t get me wrong. The charity will benefit. Everyone here, myself included, will donate to said charity, but no one here actually cares about that except maybe me. All they care about is the possibility of an alliance. A marriage of convenience.

It may be a neutral ground here, but you can still tell where the divide is. Everyone is in their own little areas, much like high school cliques. To the left, we have the Italians, many of which I’ve never met. To my far right is the Yakuza. Next to them, the Russians.

Straight ahead is the Irish.

My eyes land on Killian immediately. He stands with his back to me, laughing at something the man next to him said. The young woman next to him is holding his arm.

Is that his date?

My body tenses at the thought. For one split second, I want to go over there and rip every shred of hair from her body, but I don’t.

She glances back, her eyes landing on me, giving me a small smile.

She can’t be over eighteen. Obviously he likes younger women, but she’s a fucking baby. What the hell is he thinking?

My teeth grind against one another as another thought hits me.

He sure likes them young, huh?

My anger floods me, but I push it down. Time to put on a show.

Steeling myself, I turn left, heading toward the Italians. A couple of Catalinis are here, which is who I should be seen around, anyway.

What was I thinking coming here in the first place? Did I think he would ask me to dance? As if we could. It would create a ripple effect.

“Hey.” I smile at the group as I approach.

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