Page 43 of Ruthless Dream

Ciaran

Ididn’t expect a warm greeting from Adeline’s family. The frown that slipped onto my fake girlfriend’s face when her mother ignored me touched me nonetheless. I rarely get to the stage where I meet the parents, but I’m used to the hardball tactics. And in our line of work, I’d expect nothing less.

I keep an eye on Adeline, overly aware that the guards Boris employs are absolute shit at their jobs, while I walk around the room.

“Well, hello there, son.”

An arm curls around my shoulders before I can get away.

“Da.” To say I’m surprised is putting it mildly.

He’s dressed nicely, but his hair falls in front of his face. There’s nothing like an older man who won’t leave behind the rock and roll decades of the eighties behind.

He pulls me into a hug, shaking my shoulders before scanning the room. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d be here? You by yourself? Or are you with a particular Akatov?”

His tone never changes. His mannerisms and impish grin never leave his face. Something quick and sharp runs through me anyway.

I’ve always thought of my uncle as the cool and composed one. He can drop knowledge on you in one go, leaving a person reeling.

My da is a talker. A storyteller, chatting things up until they become a legend.

His hazel eyes are bright but never leave my face. He continues to smile, one hand on my shoulder.

I swallow, hating how dry my throat is. “Akatov?”

“Oh, Bennie, saw you two.” If he hadn’t brought up Adeline, I’d only be surprised at the fact that he doesn’t have a glass of alcohol in his hands. “At that fancy place down⁠—”

“Yeah.” I nod, admitting I know what he’s on about.

“Expensive taste she’s got. You’ll need to watch that one.”

His laughter skitters across my skin. I roll my shoulders, my suit jacket too tight. Especially when those hazel eyes sharpen.

“You’ll want to be careful, though, son.” He squeezes my shoulder affectionately. As if he’s a doting father. “You know I’ve just had to tell Boris he has a bit of a problem.”

Since childhood, I’ve known when Cain Murray is about to screw me over.

Da leans forward, whispering. “You know Wallen; you know who that is?” I nod, my lips pressing together. “There’s been chatter. Bad stuff going around. I’ve just dropped Boris a tidbit, told him to keep a closer eye on his.”

I force a smile on my face. In response, one grows on Da’s lips.

He grabs the back of my head, pulling me closer. “You know I love you, kid.” His brows lift. It’s the most serious conversation we’ve ever had, and yet, we’re not truly saying a damn thing.

“Da—”

He lets go, stepping back. He holds up what would be a threatening finger if he didn’t pull out the Irish charm. “There’s probably no need to tell you to treat her right?”

Someone comes up, whispering in his ear.

“I’ve got to go, but we’ll see you soon, right?” Da walks away before I can answer.

My teeth might break, I’m clenching my jaw hard enough.

I had something that would have helped me get closer to Boris. My father’s just taken it away.

My hands turn to fists. I’m in the middle of a ballroom, taking deep breaths.

Cain Murray left me in Dublin and never once looked back. He gave me nothing, except his bad habits, which I try to shake off every single day.