I think about the meetings in LA, the legitimate business deals I’m trying to close, the careful balance I’ve been maintaining between the old world and the new one I’m trying to build. Then I think about Dmitri Petrov running his mouth in my territory, disrespecting my people, trying to take what’s mine.
“Set up a meeting,” I say. “Somewhere public. Let him think I’m willing to negotiate.”
“And then?”
“And then we’ll see what happens.”
Declan’s quiet for a moment. “You sure about this?”
“He’s pushing because he thinks I won’t push back. It’s time to remind him why that’s a mistake.”
“Alright. I’ll make the calls.”
We hang up, and I spend the rest of the day handling business. Calls with lawyers about the LA deals, messages with my people here in New York about operations that need oversight, the endless logistics of running an organization that spans multiple cities and countless moving parts.
By the time evening rolls around, I’m ready to forget about all of it and focus on dinner with Catherine.
I shower and change into something more casual—dark jeans, a button-down, no tie. The restaurant I picked is upscale but not formal, the type of place where you can actually have a conversation without shouting over ambient noise.
I leave the hotel at seven thirty, deciding to walk instead of taking a car. The evening air is cool, traffic heavy but moving,and I use the time to clear my head and shift gears from business to whatever this thing with Catherine is becoming.
I’m three blocks from the restaurant when I see her, standing on the opposite side of the street about fifty feet away. She’s looking directly at me, and when our eyes meet, I smile.
I’m about to cross the street when someone steps into my path.
Dmitri Petrov.
“Cassian Rourke,” he says, arms crossed over his chest like he’s been waiting for me. “Walking alone. That’s not very smart.”
Fuck.
I should’ve brought Declan. Should’ve had security trailing me at a distance. But I wanted tonight to feel normal for Catherine, wanted to pretend for a few hours that I’m just a man taking a woman to dinner instead of what I actually am.
That miscalculation might cost me.
My hand goes to the gun at my back on instinct, and I focus on Dmitri. Two of his men flank him, both armed, both trying to look intimidating.
“I wasn’t aware I needed protection in my own city,” I say, keeping my voice level.
“Your city?” He laughs, and his men laugh with him. “That’s interesting. Because from where I’m standing, this looks like open territory.”
I step to the side, angling so Catherine isn’t directly in my line of sight anymore. The last thing I need is her getting caught up in this. “You’ve been making noise in my territory,” I say. “Talking to my people. Acting like the rules don’t apply to you.”
“Maybe the rules are changing.”
“They’re not.”
Dmitri’s smile turns ugly. “You know, I’ve been doing research on you, Rourke. Found out some interesting things. Like how your mother still lives in that little village in Ireland. Alone. No security. Just an old woman who probably doesn’t even lock her doors at night.”
My blood goes cold.
“You want to be careful what you say next,” I tell him quietly.
“Or what? You’ll do something stupid in the middle of a public street?” He takes a step closer, emboldened by my reaction. “See, that’s your problem. You think you can play both sides—be legitimate and still hold territory through fear. But you can’t. Eventually, you have to choose. And from where I’m standing, you chose wrong.”
“Last warning, Dmitri.”
“And that woman you had in your hotel last night?” He grins, and I feel my jaw tighten. “Pretty little thing. Dark hair, nervous energy. One of my guys saw her leaving this morning. You getting sloppy, Rourke? Bringing civilians into your business?”
