Page 46 of His Forced Irish Mafia Bride

“Then listen properly,” she said. “I didn’t come for your money.”

I held her stare. “Then what did you come for?”

Her eyes didn’t move. “To help you stop Anton.”

I knew a lie when I heard one. “People in my world don’t offer help for free.”

Her head tilted slightly. “I don’t want money.”

My gaze sharpened. “Then what do you want?”

She didn’t blink. “You.”

Something in my chest went still.

I kept my voice low. Controlled. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

She smiled like that meant nothing. Then she came closer again, slow enough to be deliberate, red lips parting slightly before she dragged her tongue across them like she was measuring something she already intended to take. “I know exactly what I’m asking for.”

“I can’t give you what you want.” My voice stayed steady, but Gabrielle didn’t step back. She didn’t even blink.

“Why?” she asked softly.

I exhaled through my nose. “Because you’re mixing up memory with a connection.”

A faint smile touched her mouth, like I’d said something she didn’t agree with but enjoyed hearing anyway. “Memory?” she repeated. Her eyes held mine a little longer now. “You’ve really erased it.”

“I haven’t erased anything.”

She tilted her head slightly. “You’ve forgotten how we used to be.” I didn’t respond. Her voice dropped a fraction. “The beach. Remember that? How we used to fuck all night long.” She let out a soft moan. “Nobody fucks me like you, Sean.” Something flickered in my chest, quick and unwelcome, but I kept my face still. “You and I,” she said, slower now, “there was nothing transactional about that.”

I stayed quiet because anything I said would give her more attention than she deserved.

She stepped closer again, not asking, just assuming I wouldn’t move. “No one has ever touched me the way you did,” she said.

My eyes stayed on hers. “That doesn’t change that there’s nothing between us now.”

A small breath left her, almost a laugh. “You’re lying to yourself,” she said. “I’m already wet. Touch me and feel it.”

I didn’t answer.

She stopped beside me, not touching, but close enough that I could feel her presence. Her voice dropped again. “If you’re so sure,” she said, “then look at me and tell me you don’t feel anything right now.”

I didn’t move fast enough to stop it.

Gabrielle’s hand caught the collar of my shirt, pulling me in, and then her mouth was on mine. For half a second, I didn’t resist. For half a second, I forgot everything else. Then reality snapped back into place.

My hand came up between us, firm, pushing her back before it became something more. “Stop,” I said under my breath. Her hand lingered on my shirt like she expected me to change my mind. Then I heard the steps.

Slow, controlled, and coming down the stairs. I turned my head. Maeve stood in the doorway, still and watching.

She wasn’t shocked. She had that quiet, unreadable look in her eyes that made everything feel worse.

Gabrielle didn’t move away immediately, like she wanted Maeve to see the shape of what she’d interrupted. I stepped fully back, wiping the last second of that mistake off my focus.

“Maeve,” I said. Her name came out lower than I’d intended.

Maeve didn’t answer. Her eyes went from me, to Gabrielle, then back to me. Gabrielle smiled slowly, satisfied, like the timing had been part of her plan all along.