Page 24 of Cassio (Belles & Mobsters 3)

Her graceful back was wide open, driving my imagination into overdrive. Two thin straps held the little dress together, lowering to an open back that dipped to the top of her ass. Each time she moved, the dress played a game of peekaboo. I kept on staring, waiting for a more revealing view, but it never came.

“It’s Áine,” Luca spoke in a low voice. “And Margaret.” Like I could ever miss them.

Bringing my glass of scotch to my lips, I downed it. My eyes never moved from their forms, watching them dance wildly to a song I have never even heard of. Something about monsters or some shit like that.

“Would you like another glass?” The hostess’ voice came through.

“Yes.” I never removed my eyes from two women on the dance floor.

“The song is “Monsters Come Out At Night,”” the hostess tried to explain although I never asked. “It’s quite popular now.”

I didn’t give a fuck. “That’s all. Thank you,” I dismissed her.

For some reason, that I didn’t want to ponder on, the song struck a nerve. We were two of those monsters. And right now, I was lurking in the shadows, stalking my prey. I had been stalking Áine for a while now. She became my obsession.

And in order to get her, I had been prepared to do a lot of bad, morally questionable shit. Callahan wasn’t willing to put Áine on the table, so I’d force him. After all, debts came in all shapes and sizes.

The song changed to a slower one. I watched Margaret and Áine exchange a few words. There was some hassle back and forth, then Áine headed out of the club, Margaret right along with her, leaving the rest of their group to continue the party.

Odd, I thought to myself. They just arrived and were already leaving.

I stood up from my seat, my drink forgotten, and stalked their way. My brother followed, and I quickly barked out the order to my men to remain behind. Two of us would be enough. We didn’t need an entourage to crowd the women.

I was on a mission, hunting them. As we exited the club, I saw their little forms down the marble hallway, a few straggling visitors passing them by in either direction. They strode with intent and purpose, almost as if there was something urgent going on.

“Let’s take the stairs.” Áine’s soft voice traveled over to us. “You have the weapons?”

Luca and I shared a glance. Why would those two need weapons?

“Yep!” Margaret nodded. “I’m ready to kick some ass.”

I frowned. It wasn’t often that I was confused or surprised, though now I was both.

Áine chuckled. “You are always ready to kick ass.”

What the hell was going on?

Changing my plan, I looked over to my brother and shifted to the shadows. I wanted to know what the women were up to. Luca and I kept our footsteps quiet, sticking to the shadows and corners of the hallway so we wouldn’t be spotted. We probably appeared like full blown stalkers, but both our interests were piqued. Good fucking thing we always wore combat boots, no matter what suit we wore.

The two disappeared through the exit door, taking the stairs, and I reached for the door handle when my phone dinged. I glanced down to see who it was.

It was Alexei and I silently cursed. He wouldn’t message just for the hell of it. He only called or messaged when it was something important. I couldn’t ignore his message.

“Have our men follow them,” I told Luca.

No other words were needed. We had to know what those two were up to.

ChapterSeven

ÁINE

Margaret and I were pushed so hard from behind, I fell forward onto my knees, my hands instinctively reaching out to stop the impact. My knees burned from the fall, but I ignored it. This was part of the plan. As were the revealing club dresses we still wore. These men were fooled to think we were weak, their prey.

When in fact, we preyed on them. They fell into our trap. We were never vulnerable. John and the rest of the guys from The Rose Rescue had eyes on us all along. In fact, they were probably out there right now with transportation.

“Surprised to see such a fancy place in Vegas?” The guy that smelled like cheap cologne sneered, his eyes roaming over both Margaret and I. As if he was deciding which one of us he’d break first. The answer wasneither.

Fucking idiots!They thought they were so smart, yet they brought us exactly where we needed to be. In the midst of the little King trafficking ring. In an abandoned warehouse outside Las Vegas. The place was filthy, and the musty scent of dirt and piss filled the air.

---