Page 93 of Forbidden Romeo

“I didn’t mean to hide anything from you,” I hiss, glancing around the box. There are still more eyes on us than I’d like, but at least people seem to have resumed conversation.

“Oh, please. This was just a power play, wasn’t it?” Aimee says as if she’s already bored with me. “You wanted to parade me around to infuriate my brother.”

“That’s not-”

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!”

I flinch as the announcement booms over the speakers.

“PLEASE GIVE IT UP FOR THE CHAIR OF THE DUFFY CONGLOMERATE!”

The crowd erupts in applause as Padraic approaches the podium in the VIP box. There’s not a person in this room who doesn’t know who he truly is, but for the sake of discretion, Padraic is dressed to the nines as the businessman we all know he’s not.

In fact, all of us look the part tonight. My own three-piece is more Wall Street than back-alley dealings. Although no one quite matches Aimee tonight, I imagine we make quite the handsome pair.

“Welcome, one and all,” Padraic’s smooth voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Thank you for joining us for the annuals this evening.”

I glance over at Aimee, at the hand resting on her lap, and reach for it. But she pulls it away.

Fuck, am I in trouble later.

Padraic continues, “As some of you may already know, my son, Graham Duffy, was recently taken from us. He was a fierce competitor in the ring and could have one day competed at the annuals himself.”

I tense at the sound of his name leaving Padraic’s mouth. What the hell is he doing? We all know Graham was hopeless in the ring.

“In his honor, we are dedicating this event to him.”

The crowd erupts in applause. A feeling of dread begins to creep into my gut, which is only reinforced when Padraic turns to offer me that same strained smile he gave me before.

“As such,” Padraic says once the crowd has died down. “I imagine many of you are wondering who I have chosen for my fighter this evening.”

The crowd cheers again. But this time, Aimee grabs my arm.

“Please give it up for my fighter for the 44th NYC annual PKB championship….”

Aimee’s fingers dig into my skin.

“... Jack Duffy!”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Aimee

The crowd’s roar is nearly as loud as the rush of blood that fills my ears.

I might not know a thing about boxing or fighting or whatever this whole business is, but I know whatever Jack is about to do, he’s not going to do it in a three-piece suit.

We share a long, strained look.

No, he didn’t know about this either.

Jesus Christ.

Several of the men around us excitedly pull Jack to his feet, and I find myself standing too.

They all turn to me questioningly, and I suddenly feel unsure of myself. What exactly can I do about this? Fight in his place? Throw Padraic Duffy off the goddamn ledge?

Jack’s face is expressionless and hauntingly distant. So I do the only thing I can and reach for his hand.