Page 37 of Cassio (Belles & Mobsters 3)

“Finally,” one of the girls exclaimed. “Are we going to the Chippendale show? I can’t wait to see some ass shaking.”

Margaret nodded enthusiastically.

“Are you guys okay?” Another girlfriend inquired. “We heard the elevator got stuck.”

“We are great,” Margaret announced. “Who’s ready to get lit?”

Another loud explosion of cheers. Margaret was always eager for a wild party and well known for behaving even wilder. Sometimes even borderline reckless.

“Áine, who’s that?” A man’s voice sounded almost too high-pitched. I recognized Chad Stewart. I hated the fucker. He and Áine had dated for the past year with the support of her mother and reluctant support of Callahan. Nobody would be good enough for Callahan's little girl, but his instincts were spot on.

Chad eyed me and Luca, then returned his gaze to her. I wondered if he was her type. Unlike me, he was slim although fit. More of a clean cut politician face than I’d beat your ass into the ground face. Yeah, the latter was more me. There wasn’t anything clean cut about me. Except maybe my wardrobe on the night I hadn’t killed anyone.

“Oh, this is Hunter.” Áine kept her voice light. Watching her like this, you’d never guess she had a panic attack ten minutes ago.

“Why are you holding hands with him?” He tried to sound calm, but I sensed a prissy tone under his fake, civil smile. “I thought you didn't hold hands.”

I kept my expression tight, fighting the urge to break his perfect, little nose and smear his blood all over it. We’d see who’s the pretty politician then.

His eyes shot glares at both of us. Protectiveness swam through my veins, and I had to hold back the urge not to wrap my hand around his throat. Jesus, if only his glare at her made me want to kill him, there would be a lot of dead people.

Chad Stewart was known in my father’s circles very well. The New York state’s attorney had no scruples and was a dirty politician. These days he worked with Marco a lot, getting rich from kickbacks, turning a blind eye to Marco’s smuggling of women.

This weasel just earned himself more attention by me. I’d have to ensure he didn’t do something stupid. Especially towards this woman. I wanted to keep Áine away from this creepy rat. He gave me all the wrong vibes. I didn’t trust him before he got involved with Áine, but since he started dating her, I knew he was up to no good.

Áine’s gaze lowered to where our hands were still connected and her brows furrowed. She must have been so distracted, she didn’t realize we still held hands.Does she really feel that comfortable with my touch, I wondered.

She quickly pulled her hand out of mine. “He helped me stand up. We were sitting on the floor while waiting.”

She stepped away from me and towards Chad. Resentment at her taking a step away from me washed over me like bitterness. I didn’t like it. She belonged by my side, not his.

Throwing me a glance over her shoulder, her big striking eyes met mine and she offered a soft smile.

“Thank you,” she murmured softly, tilting her head at me and Luca, then turned her attention to Chad.

As they walked ahead, I noted he wasn’t touching her. They walked close to each other but not like lovers. Each time his sleeve brushed accidentally against her, she put a bit more space between them.

Interesting.

Luca and I exited the elevator, keeping a small distance. We went in the same general direction as the group but none of them mattered to me except for Áine.

“Why doesn’t she remember us?” Luca asked in Italian, under his breath, so nobody else could hear our conversation.

“I don’t know,” I responded in the same language.

“Are you sure your plan will work?” There was a hint of displeasure in his tone. “It seems cruel to set her up like that.”

Maybe my little brother was right, but the alternative was unacceptable. Giving up Áine would never be an option.

I glanced at Margaret at the other end of the lobby, already drowning shots. “It will work,” I told him firmly. I caught Luca’s lingering gaze on her, a glint of something akin to dry amusement in them. It would seem my own brother had some kind of fascination with Margaret.

Chad and Áine were just a few feet away from us, walking towards the party.

“What the fuck?” I heard Chad hiss in a low voice. “You were holding his hand!”

“I told you,” Áine’s voice was calm, unwavering. So unlike what happened in the elevator. “He helped me stand up.”

Together those two made a good looking couple. He was closer to her in age. He just turned thirty-two, his ruffled blonde hair against her fiery red hair. He wasn’t overly big compared to her small frame. Her background being the prime minister's daughter gave her a perfect political upbringing. It would certainly help his career.

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