Page 5 of Brutal Heir (Ruthless Heirs #3)

POSSIBLE MOB

R ory

A horn blasts as I dart across the street, and I narrowly avoid being run over by a yellow cab. The guy shouts curses from the open window, and I shoot him the finger in return. Arse . I’m so damned distracted that all the chaotic sights and bustling sounds of midtown blur in the background.

You’re out of your fecking mind, Rory . The errant thought echoes through my head in time with my slowing footsteps, the timbre and thick Irish lilt sounding an awful lot like my childhood best friend Maeve. Shite, I miss her. How that girl and her brother came from the same parents is beyond me.

I shouldn’t even be considering the possibility of taking on a position as a live-in nurse for the infamous wounded heir to a multi-billion-dollar corporation.

In my short time in Manhattan, even I had heard of the Gemini Corporation and the notorious Rossis.

The enormous tower looms over Park Avenue only a few steps away from Grand Central Station.

Mob rumors surround the corporation that has its hands in everything from manufacturing to high-end condos and lush nightclubs. The last thing I need is to get involved in anything remotely suspicious, not after everything I did to escape that life.

My fingers absentmindedly trace along my ribcage to the words imprinted along my skin.

Saor óna slabhraí . Free from the chains.

A permanent reminder I’d had tattooed when I arrived in Manhattan, along with a fierce butterfly emerging from those shackles.

Never again. I would never be bound by a powerful, brutal man again.

But… if I don’t at least consider the position, I’ll find myself homeless in less than a week. And I refuse to ever return to that halfway house. My chat with the human resources lady at the hospital proved fruitless so at this point, I’m shite out of luck.

I must have lost all that damned luck of the Irish the Yanks go on about when I abandoned my homeland.

Cursing my father for forcing me into that disastrous arranged marriage with a psychopath, I march up to the cute café and yank the glass door open. The scent of roasted coffee beans wafts up to my nostrils and I breathe it in, allowing one of my favorite scents to calm my nerves.

I glance across the small coffee shop and find Isabella and Serena huddled around a quaint table in the corner, sipping lattes and laughing. There is no way those two are involved in the dark underground dealings of the mafia, right?

The mob rumors could be just that. Nothing more than unsubstantiated speculation.

Then my gaze lands on two gorgeous, muscular men dressed in all black lurking in the shadowy corner. One can’t keep his eyes off Isabella, a nervous clench to his jaw as I draw closer.

“Hey, girl!” Serena waves, drawing my attention away from the two bodyguards. She smiles at me like we’ve been friends for years instead of strangers who chatted over coffee in the staff lounge for twenty minutes yesterday.

Isabella, too, offers a hopeful grin as I approach. “I got you a caramel macchiato. You said it was your favorite, right?”

“If you’re trying to bribe me, it’s working.” I wrap my hand around the warm mug and sink into the chair beside her.

“Good.” She smirks before glancing at her cousin with a quick nod.

“Right, so, Rory…” Serena begins, “let’s chat about Alessandro. You seem like someone who could hold her own against our cousin.”

“I’m glad I gave that impression straight off the bat.”

“It’s the leprechaun.” Isabella motions to the lanyard I wear over my scrubs, her lips twitching, and I can’t help the cackle that has my head tipping back.

“His name is McFecker. It’s what I call my patients when they’re pissing me off.”

Serena laughs, nearly spitting out her matcha latte before jabbing her elbow into Isabella’s side. “See, I told you! I knew she’d be perfect for the job.”

Of course I am, but I’ve still heard little about the man I’m supposed to care for besides what I’ve read on social media. And those bodyguards have the hair on my nape standing at attention.

Serena must notice my gaze flickering to the imposing men because she waves a dismissive hand, flashing that sparkling diamond. “Oh, just ignore them. Isabella’s boyfriend-slash-bodyguard is a little overprotective.”

“What about Antonio?” she blurts. “He’s as obsessed with you, if not more so.”

“Well, I am pretty fucking fantastic, and ever since Toni put a ring on my finger, he can’t stand to have me out of sight.” She shrugs like this is totally normal, and I allow myself to stare at the two striking men for another instant.

“Why does the taller one look like he wants to eat me?” I mutter under my breath.

“Raf, stop staring!” Isabella hisses to the opposite corner of the small space, “You’re going to freak Rory out.”

With an eye roll, her guard diverts his attention to the other guy, who now that I’ve stared at them for long enough, could easily be his brother. They share the same distinguished Roman nose, darting eyes and impressive physiques.

“Like I said, just pretend they’re not here.” Serena props her elbows on the table, taking a quick sip of her matcha.

But now that I’ve seen the bodyguards, I can’t unsee them. They remind me of Seamus and Finn, and another lifetime.

Drawing in a breath, I bury the past to the dark recesses where they belong and focus on the present. “Can you tell me more about Alessandro? You said he was severely burned? How?”

When I arrived to Manhattan a year ago, my first patient was a burn victim. A rueful smile curves my lips as memories of cranky old Paddy Flaherty fill my mind. He’s one of the few patients I regularly keep in touch with, which reminds me, I owe him a visit.

Returning my attention to the present, the girls exchange a glance.

It’s something I’ve noticed they do often, as if they know each other well enough that words aren’t necessary between them.

A tiny pang of longing fills my chest as I think of my best friend who I haven’t been able to speak to in an entire year.

When I ran from him , I was forced to cut ties with everyone. I only hope Maeve is okay.

“Ale’s great,” Isabella starts. “He’s smart and witty?—”

Serena holds her hand up, cutting her off. “He’s an asshole, let’s be real.”

“Sere!”

“What? There’s no point in sugar-coating the truth. Rory is going to realize what a pain in the ass he is the moment she meets him. It’s better she knows what she’s getting into.”

“Alessandro is not an asshole,” Isabella mutters. “He’s just been through a lot in the last few months.”

“Listen, I’m not saying it’s his fault, but he’s become a moody, temperamental bastard on top of the arrogant, conceited bastard he once was.” Serena glances from her cousin to me.

“You’re really selling him, lasses.” I snort on a laugh.

Serena reaches across the table, grabbing my hand, and my eyes jump up to meet hers.

“Seriously, Rory, what happened to Alessandro is all my fault. He came to Milano to help me, and there was a freak explosion on the runway…” Her bubbly expression darkens and the familiar pang of loss rushes through my veins.

“He suffered third degree burns across nearly half his body…”

The rest of her words are muffled beneath the sudden roar of my pulse across my ears.

Explosion .

The word detonates across the ache in my chest, reminding me of my earlier doubts. Had it been an attempt on the Gemini heir’s life? Are the mafia rumors actually true? I can’t… I feckin’ refuse to ever go back to that grisly life again.

I nearly open my mouth to ask more about the incident when Serena continues.

“I need to make this right, somehow. Alessandro refuses help from any of us, and he’s already chased away more than one nurse. He needs someone who’s going to call him out on his bullshit and force him to move forward, to heal.”

“And on the medical side,” Isabella cuts in, slipping into what I easily recognize as a practiced bedside manner, “he’ll need someone to oversee wound care and dressing changes, administer medications, any bathing and hygiene assistance, and physical therapy support.”

“Of course.” I easily slip into the role, too. Since I was little, all I ever wanted was to be a nurse. And as I got older, I was driven by my desire to heal not just others, but maybe a part of me too.

“And the pay is good, like really good,” Isabella adds. “It’ll be way more than what you make at the hospital. All you have to do is meet with our Uncle Marco and go through all the security and background checks.”

I swallow hard, hoping they don’t notice the sudden fear that surges at her words. No one has questioned my credentials so far, but I’ve never been checked out by the mob, or possible mob, I remind myself.

“So, what do you say?” Serena’s eyes are filled with so much hope, so much desperation that I can’t say no.

Besides, I don’t exactly have the luxury of being picky right now. If it doesn’t work out, at least I will have made some money out of it and gotten a free place to sleep for a few weeks.

Taking a steadying sip of the warm latte, I meet the cousins’ anxious gazes. “Sure, what the hell do I have to lose?”