I cross the room to where Alex and Elio sit, their false laughter and enjoyment for the evening like nails scoring down a chalkboard. When I reach their table, I pull out the empty chair beside Alex and sit down without permission.
Not that I need any.
“Evening, gentlemen.”
Elio straightens a little too fast, betraying nerves. Alex tries for a charming grin, but it twitches unsteadily at the edges. “Stephen. To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“You seem too familiar with your lawyer,” I say. “Let’s clear that up.”
Alex shrugs. “Just a friendly greeting, nothing more. We’re building rapport.”
My smile widens yet I feel no mirth. I feel like slamming the bastard’s head into the table and stabbing him with the dessert spoon. “Professional relationships don’t involve you putting your mouth on her.”
Alex swallows and I can almost hear his nerves. Jaw flexing, he glances away momentarily.
Good. I want him to feel uncomfortable. I want him to know he doesn’t touch what is mine or he’ll end up as dead as his cousin.
Elio cuts in, tone smoother, as if he’s going to console my fury with his words.
Idiot.
“Stephen, lad…we meant no disrespect. Miss Byrne is…impressive. Skilled. Sharp. And honestly? Surprisingly brave, not to mention extremely pleasant to be around.”
My jaw ticks. I know pleasant means she’s nice on the eye, and Dallen is, but she’s nice on my eyes, no one else’s. “Brave?” I mention. “How so?”
Alex leans back, lacing his fingers over his stomach. “Well, you know. Considering who she’s dating.” His eyes glitter and my fingers twitch to strike. “Walking into the lion’s den without even knowing she’s a juicy piece of meat.”
A cold, controlled fury threads through me. “Careful, Romero.”
“We’re being friendly, that’s all,” Alex says, voice too casual and high to be honest. He looks to Elio as if he’s said nothing wrong. Oh, he’s said something wrong and he’ll pay for it, one way or another. I’ll make sure of that.
“Friendly,” I repeat, pretending to digest the word. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
Elio leans forward as if we’re enjoying our combined conversation. We are not. “You bring a woman into your life—she falls right into our world. Call it fate that’s she’s also useful…for now.”
Oh, hell no.
Some would call that a threat.
I call it a threat.
“And some,” I say, voice glacial, “would call that suicide, because that’s what it would be to say such things to a Moretti.”
Alex tilts his head. “Depends on who you ask. We’re businessmen. We look for opportunities as do you and your brothers.”
Opportunities?
I know exactly what that means. “You think touching her is leverage? That by hiring her firm it enables you to get close to her to do her harm.” I shake my head, my blood pumping loud in my ears.
I cannot kill them here. We’re at a charity auction. It would ruin the family if society watched me dispose of these two goons before them all.
“No, boys, that path merely ends with you buried in an unknown, unmarked grave. Don’t try it.”
Elio’s mouth twitches. “We’ll take your words under consideration.”
My blood turns to ice, a cold weight settles in my veins as realization dawns that they don’t care. That they either think I’m bluffing, or we’re not cut from the same cloth as our father. How wrong they are. I lean in, close enough they can feel the warning radiate off me. “You go near her again. You breathe in her vicinity. You speak her name and I’ll crack this city open, bury you and your entire bloodline beneath the rubble, name carved in stone as a warning to anyone else who thinks to test me.”
Alex blinks slowly. “Touchy.”
