Page 44 of Ruthless Dream
I don’t care what he thinks he’s doing, but he had no fucking right. I came here to make moves, and I won’t have the carpet pulled out from under me by a man who's never once protected me.
My breath slowly leaves me, and I force my shoulders back. Adeline is with her sister. I haven’t seen Gia Akatov since she barely side-eyed me.
But I do see her husband, Boris.
I stride forward, my hands in my pocket and Uncle Cormac’s advice in my ear: in chaos we look for a calm man.
The man Boris is speaking to spots me first. Boris swings around.
How is this man Adeline’s favorite person in the world? His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. If we weren’t inside, he’d probably be waving a cigar around. He’s a smug bastard that is out of touch with the world around him.
He offers me a hand, though. “Cain’s son, yes? Ciaran?”
“O’Connell.” We shake.
The live band on stage begins playing a new song, my skull vibrating.
“And you’re dating my daughter?” Boris smiles wider. But again, it’s not friendly.
I see you, motherfucker, and I don’t like you, he seems to say.
The feeling is mutual.
“Yes, I wanted to introduce myself.” I follow Boris’s gaze, who glances over my shoulder. His two daughters are still talking.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Boris says. “I always enjoy seeing the men Adeline chooses to wine and dine.”
He spots something on my face.
“She took you to lunch at Bièvre, yes?”
Where I met Henson.
“Lovely spot,” Boris says. “A fan favorite in our house. I hope you enjoyed the meal.”
My muscles tense. I paid for that meal, but you wouldn’t think so based on the way Boris stares at me. Like I’m a fool to be pitied.
I’d joked in Adeline’s car about being a kept man, but I can pay my fucking bills. I’m not living in some gender swapped Pretty Woman narrative.
Boris sighs, slipping his hands into his pocket. Like he’s taking the time to explain things. “You are a man of no worth, Ciaran. And not because you can’t afford to take my daughter to lunch. The work you and the O'Connells do is shoddy at best.”
He’ll find out soon enough that going after my family is the wrong move.
“I trust Adeline,” Boris says. “But I also know her. She might entertain the Irish accent, but my daughter is goal oriented. She’s a thinker and a planner and—”
“I’m a guy fighting at Leon’s.”
One of his brows lifts.
“I never expected Adeline Marie Akatov to like a guy like me.”
He doesn’t like my use of her full name.
“I am a lucky man,” I tell her father. “I suppose I’ll wait around for my marching orders, but until then. . .”
We’re at a stalemate. Boris was the one who implied Adeline would tire of me and move on. He’ll have to be the one to come to terms until that time comes.
“Dad.” Adeline appears by my shoulder, looking between us. “Everyone in this family has been rude to him. Please tell me there’s at least one person on my side.”
