He started to rise, but I held out my hand, a warning for him to remain on the ground. “How’d you swipe my wallet?”
Yeah, well, in a previous life I’d once been a thief, and I hadn’t forgotten the art of taking something without notice.
“Do you make it a habit of attacking women in parks?” I crouched before him and cocked my head, trying to get a read on the eighteen-year-old, and why he’d tried to mug Holly last night.
I thought he might piss himself seeing me there, but instead, his jaw tightened, and he appeared to be growing a set of balls.
The kid had shaggy, light brown hair in need of a cut and style. A decent beard for his age. And his glacier-blue eyes tightened with every second I remained studying him.
“Don’t do it,” I warned, realizing he was on the verge of attempting to attack. “I’d prefer not to hurt you again.”
“You think you can?”
And his balls are getting bigger by the minute. “Are you expecting someone?” I asked instead, wondering why he flung open the door without checking who was there first.
“My brother, and if you lay a hand on him, I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” I raised a brow, genuinely curious.
“I’ll kill you,” he seethed.
I stood. “Where are your parents? Do they know you accost women at night?”
“They’ll be back soon, so you should go. My da will fuck you up.” He rose to his feet, and this time, I allowed it.
“Yeah, and where do they sleep? All of you on that one couch over there?” There was only one other room connected to the living room, and it was a lavatory.
“How long has it been just you and your brother?”
“I don’t owe you anything, let alone a conversation.” He walked over to the bed slash couch and dropped down, tossing his wallet next to him, not bothering to check if I’d stolen the three euros he had inside.
I folded my arms across my chest. The beats of my heart picked up as I remembered a time when I’d lived on the streets, and a place like this would’ve been like a palace to me.
“I have no intention of leaving until I get answers.” I remained in front of the thin, hollow-core excuse for a door.
He picked at the hole in the knee of his faded denim jeans. “Our ma comes and goes. She’s been gone for a few weeks, though. She’s normally back by now. I needed money for food.” His lips bunched tight and his nostrils flared. “You happy?”
“And do you make it a habit of stealing from women?”
“Rich people who—”
“Ah, you think yourself Robin Hood? But let me guess, you don’t redistribute the wealth.” I stepped closer to him, catching his eyes zero in on my silver watch as I let my arms fall to my sides.
“Please go before my brother gets home.” He quickly redirected his gaze back to my face.
“And where is he?”
“Playing ball across the street.” He stood and faced me. “You gonna go hit him, too?” Anger turned his light blue eyes into something dark. Protective.
I recognized that look. The desire to keep your family safe.
My hand went to my unshaven jaw as I tried to wrap my head around the offer I was about to make. “Have you considered getting a job instead of stealing?”
I’d been asked that question each time the French police had arrested me in Paris when I was even younger than him, and I’d given the same bullshit promise to try and clean up my act when they’d let me out of jail.
“Not many jobs for people like me. And then who’d look out for Samuel?”
“You can’t live here. This place is fucking filthy.” I met his cold stare, not ready to leave. “How old is Samuel?”
“No, man. No more information.” He brought a finger to my chest, pushing against the material of my coat. “Get the feckin’ hell out of my life! You want my word I won’t steal from another rich woman? Fine. Just don’t come here again.”
At the feel of my mobile vibrating in my pocket, I stepped back and glimpsed the caller ID. “Yeah?” I answered, ignoring the daggers the kid shot my way.
“Luca’s at the bar. Thought you’d want to know.”
“Thanks.” I ended the call with Ola and pocketed my mobile. “I have to go.”
“Good,” he said as his eyes dropped to the card I’d extended him. “What’s this?”
“An opportunity.” I sure as hell hoped I wouldn’t regret it.
He took the card, his eyebrows pulling together. “Nah, man. I don’t swing that way, so if you’re propositioning me for—”
“Shut the bloody hell up.” I pointed at the card. “I own the hotel. Get your brother and meet me there in two hours. I’ll get you two a room to stay in.” And if he needed to hear it, I added, “And not with me.”
“I don’t understand.” Suspicion clouded his face.
“You can’t live in this shithole. And I don’t want you on the streets bothering people for money. You can work at my club to earn your stay.”
His head jerked back, shock in his eyes. “You punched me in the face last night. And you’re here offering me a job and a place to stay? You happen to hit your head on the way over?”
You’d think. “Does your brother go to school?”
He swiped his free hand up and down the back of his messy hair. “I won’t let him drop out like me.”
“Good.” I nodded. “I’ll have one of my drivers bring him to and from school next week.” I started to turn, but he captured my arm.
“I don’t understand why you’d do this.”
“Because maybe you remind me of myself.”
“Sure, you were once like me?”
I didn’t answer. How could I?
“Well, thanks for the offer, but I’m gonna have to pass. My ma could come back, and I gotta be here when she does.” He pushed the card at my arm, but I didn’t turn and accept.
“And if she doesn’t?”
“She will. She always comes back.”
No, they don’t always come back. “Why don’t you hang on to my number? If you change your mind, call me.”
* * *
“I see the beautiful Ola ratted me out.” Luca caught my eyes in the mirror behind the shelves of liquor as he leaned against the bar in my nightclub.
It was late afternoon, so the place wasn’t open, but he was never one to pay attention to normal business hours.
I glanced at Ola, my best bartender, restocking the shelves. The bottles were color-coordinated with lights illuminating from behind. Alessia and I had disagreed on the arrangement of the bottles when we’d opened the place together. I wanted the liquor sorted by type, but she clearly won, and I couldn’t help but smile at the memory of her little victory dance.
“You okay, Boss?” Ola set her palms on the acrylic resin bar-top counter, the burnt wood finish beneath the liquid bar top shiny. Her bright blue nails were chipped, and they tapped with annoyance. Luca, most likely, the cause.
“Can you give us a minute?” I requested.
“Sure thing.” Her nose crinkled, the few freckles there disappearing with the movement. A silent I-hate-him in her pale green eyes as she threw a glance at Luca before leaving.
A moment later, the door at the side of the bar swung shut, affording Luca and myself privacy. “What’re you doing here?”
“What? No hug?” His brownish-blond hair flipped up at the back collar of his leather jacket, and he swept a few long hairs out of his face.
“You know I don’t hug.” I removed my coat and tossed it over the back of the bar chair, which was covered in a red fabric with gold buttons. The seats looked like they belonged on the set of a French cabaret show. Moulin Rouge, Ma’s favorite. Alessia had known that, too. “Why are you here?”
Luca was a top-tier fixer for The League of Brothers like I’d once been. Sort of like a general in command of an army. Only the battleground was off-the-books and we played by a different set of rules.
“Here on vaca
tion. It was a last-minute trip, and I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else I was in town.”
Luca’s idea of a vacation was stealing a priceless artifact for the hell of it, parachuting into a jungle to see if he could survive (so far, he had), and participating in wild weekends of sex with too many women at once on islands in the Mediterranean. Needless to say, trouble usually followed wherever he went, especially lately.
So, if he was in my city, I’d need to keep an eye on my friend.
“You could’ve called.” I took a seat, still a bit out of sorts after my talk with Declan.
He was a thief, but I’d been one, too. And I’d been a kid who had his ma disappear on him whenever she went to score drugs. And I had a feeling it was the same for Declan.
“Call you? That’d take the fun out of the surprise.” He collapsed onto the chair next to me and snatched his scotch.
“So, who’d you bring with you on this last-minute trip?” I asked after a few seconds had passed, hoping I could trust he was telling the truth about his visit. “You don’t ever travel alone on vacation.”
He side-eyed me. “I’m taking time off from women for a while. It’s just me.”
“What? You dating men now?”
“Shit, maybe I should. I keep getting burned by women.” He finished the rest of his drink and set the empty tumbler back down. “Nah, forget that. I love pussy way too much.” He repeated his words in French. “So anyway, I’m between jobs, and I thought maybe it’d be the perfect time to get to know the real me.”
“And this journey of self-discovery brought you to Dublin, huh?” Too many scenarios of how his trip could go seriously wrong latched hold of me.
“Okay, truth? I missed my friend.” He slapped a hand over my shoulder. “You seeing anyone? Like for more than one night? Or are you still obsessed with the one you think you can’t have?”
“I’m not obsessed,” I grumbled.
Only Luca knew about Holly McGregor.
I never actually admitted to him I wanted her, but he’d figured it out, and what pissed me off was the fact he’d read me so easily. I wasn’t normally such a fecking open book.
“Why don’t you just sleep with her and get her out of your system?” He got off the stool and circled the bar to grab the Glenlivet and refill his drink.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t ya?”
“Always do.” He grabbed a second glass and poured me a scotch, too.
“I can’t be with her, and you know why.”
But the problem was I didn’t want anyone else. I’d sent the blonde home, orgasm-free to her dismay, after Holly’s birthday party last night.
I was a man who needed sex like I needed air to breathe, and I wasn’t fucking having any. And it was because of Holly.
I couldn’t have her, and the sooner my dick realized that the better. But the fucker kept holding out for her. A stubborn son of a bitch.
“Wow.” Luca’s mouth tightened as he fought a smile. “You have it bad.” He was grinning now and loving every minute of my pain.
“I don’t—”
“Shut up,” he said before pouring the scotch down his throat. “She’s gorgeous. Any man or woman would want a piece of that ass.” He set his forearms on the bar and leaned forward. “But men go absolutely nuts over a woman they can’t have. That’s all it is. Ce n'est pas de l'amour.”
“I never said it was love.” I wish it were as simple as screwing Holly and moving on, but no, of course not. It had to be complicated. “Don’t you have someplace you need to be?” I stood. “Trouble to stay out of?”
I had somewhere I needed to be.
I needed to head to my hotel and jerk off. I was going to be seeing Holly tonight, she just didn’t know it yet.
I rarely lost control. My actions were always in check. I’d mastered the art of managing my emotions years ago. But when it came to people I had a soft spot for—my mother, Alessia, and now Holly (even if she didn’t know it), my thinking wasn’t always clear.
And with Holly coming to the club with that Hollywood arse tonight, I’d very possibly lose my shite and slug the guy.
Or worse, I might even tell Holly the truth about how I felt.
Chapter Four
Dublin, Ireland - Five Years Ago
Sebastian
“You’re sure this is what you want?” I asked my sister, not sure how I felt about owning a nightclub in the city I grew up in, or anywhere for that matter.
Alessia shifted on the leather to better face me. We were sitting at a booth on the second floor of a three-tiered club. Lasers and bright lights flashed around the room. Some Swedish house DJ was spinning in front of a wild crowd on the first level.
We were waiting for the owner of the club to join us so we could give our answer as to whether we wanted to make the purchase.
“We agreed on hotels to start off with, but”—she held two excited fists in front of her lips, her eyes widening—“this has always been my dream. The music. The energy. Can’t you feel it?”
Yeah, well, Alessia was twenty-one. So, her idea of a good time was a bit different than mine. I’d been in these places, with these types of crowds, long before I’d even turned eighteen.
“But like the hotels, this place would have to be solely in my name. Are you sure you’re okay with that?” No one could know we had a connection. If anyone ever found out she was Alessia Romano instead of Josie McClintock—we’d both be in trouble.
“Of course.” She threw her arms over my shoulders and hugged me.
I wasn’t quite sure if I’d ever get used to being hugged, but she seemed to like it, and I’d do my best to handle it. And maybe someday I’d figure out how to be the one to hug her first.
I still couldn’t believe a year had gone by since she came into my life, turning my world upside down.
I’d been hesitant to let her in, but she’d refused to give up on me. And then she’d spun her grand idea of us working together and putting the inheritance to good use.
Alessia had wanted to use the money to build our own empire.
We’d purchased three hotels in the last few months, all currently in the process of undergoing a facelift. Dublin, London, and Paris.
But the nightclub business?
I wasn’t sure I wanted her around a bunch of arseholes hitting on her and attempting God knew what. I’d begun training her in self-defense moves a few months ago for whenever I wasn’t around, but still.
She looked happy, so how could I deny her? Plus, the money was hers. It’d always be her inheritance. She’d pleaded with me to be part of her life, and so here I was, trying to act like a businessman when I barely knew how to be a brother.
“I have another surprise for you when we leave here.” She pulled away from me, her bottom lip firm between her teeth. A nervous look in her eyes, even visible in the shitty lighting.
“Do I even want to know?”
“I think so.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Lydia, the owner, joined us.
She recently married a guy from Dubai and was in a rush to sell to be with her new husband. Alessia had jumped at the chance the second she’d seen the ad, practically poetic about the “rare gem” of a place it was.
“What do you think?” Lydia’s lips spread into a wide smile. She was pretty young to own the place. Barely forty from where I sat. Then again, Alessia was twenty-one, and she’d be handling the club. “I know what Josie thinks, but what about you, Mr. Renaud?”
I’d still have to get used to that last name. Alessia had chosen both of our identities without consulting me first. A surprise gift, validation she believed we could make working together possible.
She’d even managed to find the best hacker money could buy on her own to create our identities. He’d scrubbed my previous life as Sebastian Ryan from existence, too.
When she’d presented her plan with a plea in her eyes and hope in her voice, how could I say no and break her heart? I’d
tried. Several times. But here we were. I’d caved. If she could convince a man like me to do whatever she wanted, she’d bring the men of Europe to their knees in a boardroom. I was pretty damn proud of her skills, to be honest.
She’d really thought of everything. Well, almost everything.
“I like it.” More importantly, Alessia wanted it. The location was at the heart of the city, the size was impressive, and it didn’t need much work. “Need to upgrade the selection of whiskeys,” I added with a smile, “but yeah, we’ll take it.”
Alessia tapped a finger at her lip. “Maybe color code the bottles, too.”
Lydia held her forefinger in the air. “One question.”
And here it is.
“How come I’ve never heard of you before, Mr. Renaud? I obviously ran a background check on you before our meeting, but I was surprised to discover there’s absolutely nothing about you prior to your thirtieth birthday. Not even a record of your birth. No former addresses.”
Alessia had planned everything down to the smallest detail with one exception. She’d neglected to have the hacker create a past life for me. Talk about a red flag.
I could feel my sister’s eyes on me, curious as to what in the hell I was going to say. She hadn’t thought about this before, and I’d never brought it up because she’d been so excited about what she’d done on her own without my help.
The hotels we’d acquired were sold to me by men I’d made deals with in the past to avoid such questions on my background.
I coughed into a closed fist and directed my focus on the woman. “Truth?”
“That’d be ideal,” Lydia answered.
“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you,” I said in a low voice, offering her my most intense look before grinning. “Kidding,” I quickly added, and this produced a smile from her. “But honestly, I worked for the government, and I can’t really divulge my past. It’s classified.”
The Real Deal: A Dublin Nights Novel Page 5