Page 43 of Soulmate of the Mafia King (Kings of Philly #8)

SERA

I spun into the middle of the dance floor with a glittering drink in my hand and laughter on my lips. My tight, fitted white minidress caught the light and shone. The rest of my bachelorette party flocked to me like moths to a flame as the beat rattled through my towering heels.

Paige glowed in a deep purple number she admitted to buying for the occasion to complement my dress, several-hundred-dollar proof we were actually friends, and she hadn’t said yes to joining the bridal party because she felt bad or something.

Olivia danced slightly off rhythm because she kept glancing over her shoulder at Patrick against the wall, who could barely look away from her.

Fiona and Joyce grabbed each other’s hands and swayed like cousins at a family wedding, but their brilliant smiles nearly outshone the strobe lights.

Penny, in one of the most scandalous dresses I’d ever seen her wear, shimmied like I didn’t know part of her mind was worrying about Michael at home.

And at the edge of the group, Lauren moved to the rhythm like she wasn’t quite sure she was supposed to join in with the rest of us.

I leaned forward, parting the crowd of my loved ones, and pulled her in.

A grin lit her face, and she started dancing in earnest. Over the past months at the shelter, I’d grown close to the bubbly blonde, and tonight wouldn’t have felt right without her.

Just like Emma, who wore one of the only non-designer dresses and had been quiet most of the ride to the club Killian set aside for us tonight.

After a few moments with Lauren, I pushed her over to Paige and grabbed my old friend, the only woman here who knew me in the brief time I hadn’t been part of the life.

She laughed and tried to keep up with my furious dancing.

“Should I be scared of the men in the corner?” she asked after a few moves.

I followed her line of sight to Patrick and the other two men Killian sent along.

“Not at all,” I replied.

Emma nodded, looking a little scared anyway, and I pressed what remained of my drink into her hand.

“I promise they’re less intimidating after that.”

She shot the glittering pink liquid and yelled. Everyone else, including me, yelled with her.

A few songs later, I collapsed, breathless, onto the semi-circular couch Killian had reserved for us.

Being in one of his clubs felt weird for my bachelorette party a few drinks ago, but now I just appreciated the amenities.

Our things were safe with our guards around, and one of the spokes of the stage the professional dancers paraded over ended right in front of us.

My friends piled onto the couch next to me, and a waiter appeared.

“Champagne?” He offered a beautiful bottle.

“Only if you mix it with something stronger!” Paige laughed.

The waiter counted heads. “Eight French Seventy-Fives, coming up.”

I threw my arm around Paige. “You’re a genius.”

Before she could reply, the lights flickered. I paused, waiting for the rush of fear. But I was in Killian’s club, surrounded by Killian’s men and a crowd of people I wouldn’t be surprised to learn he’d handpicked to be here tonight. Nothing was going to happen to me.

God, was this what living on the island was going to be like all the time?

The music cut out, and the DJ spoke. “Ladies and gentlemen, a very special dance for our bridal party.” He hit a button, and thick, sultry bass poured out of the speakers.

Olivia turned to me. “Did you know about this?”

I shook my head with a huge smile. Sentimentality and now surprises? Who was I marrying tomorrow?

The lights dimmed, and a spotlight struck centerstage.

A huge, well-muscled man in a suit way too much like one of Killian’s began gyrating his hips to the beat.

I screamed, and so did the rest of my party.

Joyce covered her eyes as he tore off his jacket, but I could see her peeking between her fingers.

Paige pushed singles at me with a laugh, and I threw a few onto the stage.

The stripper danced in our direction, and we screamed even louder.

A pole rose up from the ground, and he leapt forward, grabbing it and twirling with impressive grace for his size.

I threw more money and clapped. He did trick after trick as the music sped.

Finally, he slid down off the pole and landed in a split, grinding against the ground.

“Who’s the bride?” he yelled over the music.

I jumped and waved my hands like I didn’t know Killian would’ve told this man everything he needed to know. The stripper looked me up and down then sauntered closer.

“Grab my pants.” He thrust at me.

I flushed and hooked a finger through one of his beltloops.

He spun away, and his pants tore off, revealing a tiny black thong.

I screamed louder than I had yet and waved his pants like a trophy.

He danced back to me, showing off how his junk moved in the tiny underwear, and when he stopped in front of me once more, I realized the thong said something.

Groom-to-be .

Paige fanned herself. Olivia jumped up and down.

Emma laughed so hard she collapsed back onto the couch, and Penny flushed.

I tucked the remaining dollar bills into his little underwear, and he grabbed my hand and kissed it just as the song ended.

The DJ returned the lights to normal, and the stripper left the stage just as our next round of drinks appeared. I took one and raised it.

“To more fucking dancing!”

By the time we tumbled into the limo home, my whole body hurt from dancing, and the interior swam a little, but I couldn’t stop laughing.

“Thank you, girls, for the best night,” I said.

Paige pretended to gag, and Lauren smacked her.

I waved my hands. “Fine, fine, I’ll be sappy tomorrow.”

Penny took my hand. “I’ll hold you to that.”

I squeezed her and smiled, then dropped my heavy head onto Emma’s shoulder. “We did a bad job at the bachelorette part, though.”

“I’m a bachelorette,” Lauren said.

“I don’t know if I count.” Penny looked away.

“Does serial dating count?” Emma asked.

I laughed. “Okay, okay, who are we doing this for next?”

“Paige,” Olivia said promptly.

“Agreed.” Lauren nodded.

The woman in question started turning as red as her hair. “Did you guys see how Patrick was staring?”

Olivia laughed. “Patrick is happy to stare. I wouldn’t be surprised if I had to propose!”

A chorus of disagreement filled the car, and the topic drifted away, but I kept looking at Paige. I knew that nervous, not-quite-unhappy blush. It wouldn’t be long now.