Page 179 of Brutal Vows

“Don’t think too hard on it, lass. Clock’s ticking.”

Curiosity gets the best of me. I walk around the corner, stop a few feet away from him, and prop my hands on my hips. He’s leaning against the wall again, as if he thinks it’s his job to hold up the entire building.

“You’re a rival of Declan and Quinn’s, is that it? Am I about to be kidnapped and held for ransom?”

His laugh indicates he’s amused by the question.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a no. I’ve known Declan for more than twenty years. He’s a dear friend.”

I eye him warily. “Uh-huh. And does your dear friend know about this clandestine little chat? Because it makes a lot more sense that you’d just talk to me out in the other room with him instead of skulking around women’s bathrooms.”

He studies me for a moment in silence. I feel his gaze going over me, up and down. One corner of his mouth lifts.

“You remind me of my wife. She stole a truckload of diapers from me. That’s how we met.”

“Fascinating.”

“It was.”

“Is there a point you’ll be arriving at soon? Because if not, I’ve got some champagne to get back to.”

Ignoring my comment, he says, “You’ll meet her. Her name’s Juliet. I have a feeling the two of you will get along like gangbusters.”

I decide I’ve had enough. If he’s going to kidnap me, let’s get on with it. If he’s not, I’m bored.

I turn and start to walk away, but stop when he says, “Liliand Juan Pablo are doing well down in Mexico, don’t you think? Sweet love story, that.”

My heart starts to pound faster. I turn and peer at him, wondering what the fuck this guy really wants. I demand, “What do you know about them?”

“I know they’ve decided to make Mexico their permanent home. And I know you met with Juan Pablo’s uncle Alvaro last week to discuss a deal between the Mob, the Mafia, and the Jalisco cartel.”

“Did Declan tell you that?”

He chuckles again. He seems overly fond of doing that.

“No, lass. I’ve got my own sources of information. And I have to admit, I’m bloody impressed at the deal you negotiated. You were born to twist men around your pinky finger, weren’t you?”

“Enough with the rhetorical questions. I hate rhetorical questions. Who are you?”

Instead of giving me his name, he says cryptically, “An interested third party.”

At first, I think he wants to get in on the Jalisco deal. But then I remember something Declan said the day at his office when he showed me the evidence that Gianni set up the kidnapping attempt and home invasion himself.

When I asked how he came by all the information, he said the same thing this Irishman just said. “An interested third party.”

All the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I say, “You were listening. That day in Declan’s office, you were listening in on our conversation.”

“Watching it over a hidden camera in the ceiling, actually. Don’t blame Declan for that. He didn’t know it was there. But your performance was impeccable. I’ve never seen a woman handle herself so well. Declan can be very intimidating.”

“Not much intimidates me.”

“Exactly. Which is why I’m extending you an invitation.”

He lets it hang there without explaining what he means.