Page 34 of Ruthless Dream

“There’s an event next week. A party full of politicians.”

My stomach sinks.

“I want you to get us on the guest list.”

“Bribing me with coffee now?” My stony voice is nowhere near the sweltering heat of lava boiling me from the inside out.

CHAPTER 8

Ciaran

“How the fuck did you get a meeting with Henson?” my cousin Seamus asks over the phone. I’ve got it on speaker, my hands playing with the strands of my hair. My beard is tidy, and my suit jacket is hanging on the back door.

“Seriously,” he keeps going. “If you’re going for favorite nephew status with Uncle Cormac, you’ve got it.”

“I’m not going for a gold star.” Though, I smile as I remember breaking the news this morning to our uncle.

My plan is already working.

Last week, I was some Irish tourist sniffing around parts of town I had no business in. Now, with an Akatov daughter on my arm, I can angle myself into places, and it looks natural.

Henson controls contracts that my uncle has been curious about forever. He’d been on a list of potential clients we wanted to rub elbows with while we’re in town. He rarely takes meetings and doesn’t like networking. But he likes getting out of the office and spending a few hours at a restaurant where the staff wine and dine him.

I’d take pub food over that overpriced crap they served any day of the week. I might pride myself on carrying my head held high, but I knew I would’ve stuck out if I’d waltzed right in and tried to chat him up.

I’d honestly still been on the fence about speaking to Henson. If it wasn’t for Adeline’s bratty prodding, I might not have gotten up. Then when I got closer to him, I realized he was watching Liverpool. It gave me the perfect excuse to ask him the score.

“He was a lot easier to talk to than I would’ve thought,” I tell Seamus. With his polo shirt and wire-rimmed glasses, Henson looks like he could work in personal finance. I thought he was about to toss his phone at the wall when Liverpool gave up their advantage.

“You did fucking well,” Seamus compliments. I like him because it’s always genuine. There’s no underlying tension, unlike some of my other cousins. Seamus is everyone’s cheerleader, in a way that reminds me of Ian. “So the question is, why aren’t you coming out to have a drink with us?”

I fix my tie. “I’ve got plans.”

“Oh, sweet lord,” Seamus mocks. “So you have decided not to go celibate. Thank Christ.”

“Focus on your own sex life.”

“Who is it then? What sweet, innocent American has fallen for your charms?”

Adeline’s wide brown eyes flash in my mind. Her thick brown hair and plump lips. She tried to pull her hand out of mine when we went to get coffee. I’d refused, and at some point I’d grown used to the heat of her at my side.

“Cousin?” Seamus prods. “Don’t tell me it was the other way around and you’ve fallen for a charming American princess.”

I can’t help the laugh. Adeline sat with her arms crossed throughout most of lunch. Since then I’ve texted her daily, only to receive one word responses.

But I’m not pushing. Bending a person isn’t the same as breaking. I need her pliable. Willing to understand that she’s got more to gain by keeping her reputation intact instead of running off to her father and admitting all the shit that went down with her bodyguard.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Oh,” Seamus trills. “That her? Fuck, lad, at the very least take her to dinner first.”

“Don’t do anything stupid while you’re celebrating my success,” I tell him, a smile spreading across my lips. The boys will be toasting me tonight.

Since I’m still paying for my flat in Dublin, my options were limited. As soon as I moved in, I placed cameras throughout this shitty building.

My eyes have flickered to the camera feed the past five minutes. Because Adeline stood outside for five full minutes before she found the courage to enter, the busted lock doing nothing to impede her. She’s in jeans as she carefully walks up the stairs while balancing a garment bag. She wanted to meet at the fundraiser tonight, but I refused the offer.

The event is similar to the one the Akatovs threw several weeks ago. A chance for people to rub elbows while they drink. Only this time the event is supposedly for those who don’t play in the shadows. For golden boy politicians and civic minded donors. Naturally, there will be quite a few people who are much more nefarious than anyone wants to think.