Page 41 of Cassio (Belles & Mobsters 3)

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I snarled into his ear. Then to make sure he understood I was serious, in one easy motion, I broke his wrist. His scream could be heard even through the loud music.

Áine’s head snapped my way, and she watched the entire scene with wide eyes. For a second, I cursed myself since she probably didn’t like to see violence. But she didn’t even flinch and no words slipped through her lips to defend the guy.

“Consider yourself lucky I didn’t break every bone in your body,” I growled at the fucker who thought he could touch what was mine. Over his head, I signaled the bouncers to come over. I pushed the idiot off the barstool and he fell onto the ground. “My men will see you out.”

The same second, one of them grabbed him by his collar, then lifted him and carried him out like trash. The man forgotten, I turned to face Áine.

“Why are you here alone?” I asked, aware my voice sounded too harsh. She cocked her eyebrow but remained silent. “Where is Margaret?”

Fuck. I wasn’t supposed to know her name. Thankfully, Áine didn’t pick up on it. Jesus, if others saw me slip like this, I’d never hear the end of it.

She shrugged, reaching for her drink. “Dancing.”

My eyes darted around the dance floor. Margaret wasn’t there.

“You can’t be sitting at the bar alone,” I grunted. “Men will get the wrong idea.”

Great. I sounded like a nagging husband.

“I can take care of myself,” she retorted, not losing her cool. Then her lips curved into a sheepish smile. “Except in elevators. Then I lose my shit.”

She tried to joke but the anguish in her tone wasn’t missed on me.

“Is this seat available?” I asked her, though it was a moot point. I knew it was available; I had just thrown the man that sat next to her out.

She chuckled. “It is now.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” I offered, sitting down next to her and my leg brushing against hers. She didn’t pull away.

Lifting her drink up in the air, she answered. “I already have one.”

I signaled the barista who immediately approached. “I’ll have a scotch and another drink for the lady.”

“Another pineapple juice?” she asked, his voice incredulous.

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop a grin from spreading across my face. “Yes, and fresh pineapples.”

Without another word, she went to grab our drinks. Though she might have rolled her eyes, I wasn’t sure. I was too focused on the beautiful red haired woman in front of me.

“Go ahead and laugh,” she mumbled next to me, once the barista was out of earshot.

“I wouldn’t dare,” I told her. “Besides, you know what they say about pineapples, right?”

She blushed, the bright color evident even under the dimmed lights and I got my answer.

“Mmmm.”

I chuckled.

“Áine!” Someone called out from the dance floor and I followed Áine’s gaze. “Come dance with us, maid of honor.”

Throwing a glance my way, Áine downed the rest of her drink and stood up.

“Duty calls,” she said, smiling. “See you around.”

Before she could leave me like dust in the wind, I took her hand. She paused, her eyes lowering to my hand wrapped around her tiny wrist. I didn’t bother removing it, and she didn’t attempt to tug it away.

“Dance with me then.” I should have asked, but my words sounded more like a demand. I didn’t want to chance a refusal though something told me she wouldn’t hesitate to refuse me if she didn’t want to dance with me.

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