Page 97 of Attraction (Mobsters + Billionaires 3)
Hughes’ gaze shifts back to me, then—very purposefully—over to Ford. I don’t know what that means, so I up-nod him with a gesture.
Placing his napkin across his plate, he leans across the table and whispers in my ear, “Keep Ford away from my father.”
I shift back into my seat, his words like cold ice down my spine. I immediately remember Ryder’s words. Fallon’s younger brother, William—Liam—would have known Ford when he dated Fallon.
I’m startled by laughter. Ford and Mads, completely oblivious, are cracking up about something. Meanwhile, the rest of us are watching the drama unfold across the ballroom.
Fallon gestures in our direction, and Ciaran O’Shea looks right at us, then takes his son by the collar and drags him out of a side entrance.
Hughes stands right away, and Hopper looks up, confused.
“It was nice chatting with you today, Hopper, Luca. Thank you for the food. I apologize for leaving early, but I must be going.”
Hopper’s face falls. “But…you’ll miss out on Cesar’s twenty-layer tiramisu.”
Hughes places his hand on Hop’s shoulder. “And I regret that. But it would be dangerous for me to stay.”
Hopper looks at the hand on his shoulder and stands, pulling Hughes into a hug. “Be careful. Call me if you need help.”
Hughes pulls away, his expression unreadable. “Um. Okay.”
On that awkward note, he heads out, aiming for the same exit Fallon and his father took. Hopper looks worried, which is sort of adorable.
I check my phone, waiting for additional information from Ryder.
Mads and Ford are still chatting, apparently trying to figure out how to set up ongoing healthcare for the families represented here tonight.
God, I love that man.
I lean over to Anthony. “We need to put somebody on Ciaran O’Shea.”
Hopper pops up on Anthony’s other side, agitated. “What’s going on with Liam’s dad?”
I rub my forehead. “Hughes told me to keep Ford away from him. And he also said that the Byrnes are fighting over whether to target him.”
Hopper starts to take off, and I grab his arm. “Not tonight, Hop. We’ll play Arms-Knives-Guns with a few folks tomorrow, but tonight, I need you here. We need to make sure Ford is safe.”
His jaw tightens. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this. As soon as you two are tucked into bed, I’m putting myself on Papa O’Shea.”
It’s a terrible idea, but the best one I’ve got for now.
“Deal. Thanks, Hop.”
He nods and sits down, drumming the table as he stares at the exit Hughes took. Mads hands him a glass of wine, but that only moderately distracts him.
Fuck. I know not to ignore his Spidey sense. Tomorrow’s gonna be fucking bloody. I can already feel it.
Turning back to Anthony, I ask, “Wait. What did Dominick want?”
Anthony shakes his head. “Not worth getting into here. Says he’ll stop the lies to the FBI if we ease up on the Houston Street border.”
I snort. I was generous, and they fucking took advantage. “No.”
“That’s what I thought. Told him I’d take it under advisement.”
And I’m about to take that motherfucker’s head under advisement.
I snort and clink wine glasses with my best friend. “Let’s finish up this last round and get the hell out of here.”
