Page 174 of Dirty Dylan: Dirty Dusters

My nemesis. And the man whose life I will make a living hell at every possible opportunity when I return to New York.

“Jaine.”

“Eoin.”

I’m sure my expression shows my loathing. I make no attempt to disguise it. I frown inwardly. Isn’t he surprised to see me in Manhattan? He doesn’t look it. Did he know I’d be here?

My attention switches to the women on either side of him. Sophia Ruocco, which seems a bit of a coincidence given who I’m meeting. I’m guessing the other is Molly McGrath. She even looks Irish with her pale skin, ice-blue eyes, and long black hair.

Both women scowl at me.

It’s then I hearhim.

“Eoin, our Dylan’s been trying to contact you. He says it’s urg….”

Time stands still as my gaze connects with eyes of piercing blue. Eyes that are identical to my son’s.

I can’t speak. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I can’t do anything but stare.

At him.

“Irish.” It’s a whisper on my lips as a thousand and one memories I thought I’d lost forever come rushing back all at once and hit me like a tsunami.

“Jaine.” My trance is broken. I look up at Leo, who’s come to join me in the foyer. He frowns when he sees Sophia, who’s immediately gone on a call. As has Eoin.

“Your phone, Jaine.”

I catch Molly’s gaze. She smirks at me almost knowingly.

“Jessie?” I answer.

“Jaine, you need to get to Rising right now.”

She’s crying. Why is she crying?

“Jessie, what’s going on?”

“It’s Ace.”

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