He only showed a flicker of surprise at my lack of fear. “Your shoes. The girls here can’t afford Louboutin.”
Hmm…not buying it. “That’s quite a stretch. Maybe I have an unhealthy obsession with shoes, and I need to strip to support my habit?” I arched an eyebrow at him.
“I own this club. I know everyone who works here.”
“You could have started with that, instead of picking on my fabulous shoes. Did you at least enjoy the dance? I might add erotic dancing to my resume.”
The cool metal of his gun pushed bruisingly against me, forcing my neck to extend to the side. “Judging from your pale skin and the shamrock tattoo on your lower back, I’d say you’re Irish. Want to tell me why the fuck you’re in my club?”
“Yes, I’m Irish. The last name’s Quinn.” I relished the surprise he let slip. His eyes bounced all around my face as if finally seeing me for the first time before he reached up and pulled the synthetic blonde wig off my head. My blood red hair fell to my shoulders. “I didn’t come in here with ill intent. I needed to know why one of my guys was visiting a strip club that belonged to Nicoli De Luca.”
“Your guy?”
I lifted my chin, gesturing to the area of couch across from us. “Mark.”
“Yes, I knew who you were talking about. What I want to know is, how is he your guy.”
“Now, now, Nicky, I’ve played nice.” I tsked. “If you want answers, you’ll point your gun somewhere else. It’s distracting and not to mention rude.”
“I don’t think you understand the position you’re in. You won’t be leaving here. Whether or not I’m going to kill you or pass you around my men is still up for debate.”
I laughed at that. Head thrown back and all. This situation was far from funny, but his intimidation act was hysterical. “I haven’t ridden an Italian before, but I do enjoy the food.” He released my waist to yank my head back by my hair. I gasped, then chuckled. “I should tell you that’s kind of turning me on.”
“You don’t know when to shut up, do you?” he snapped.
“Save yourself the headache, pull the trigger.”
“I wouldn’t do that.” The voice startled both of us and we both looked toward the entrance. There stood Jamie, Louie, and Dean with their guns drawn at Nicoli’s two men. “Drop it,” Jamie ordered.
Both guards had their guns pulled from their holsters but pointed at the ground. The sound of two heavy thuds vibrated through the room as their matching black pistols hit the carpet.
Jamie shoved the barrel of his gun into the back of his guard’s head, pushing him forward further into the room. “Walk.” His voice was impassive. His eyes said otherwise. Louie wasn’t thrilled either. In fact, I’d never seen him look so cold, glaring down the barrel of his Glock at Nicoli’s other guard.
Nicoli’s eyes followed their movements until they were standing before us. His demeanor was sedate while the wheels behind his golden depths calculated.
“Jameson Coleman,” Nicoli said with recognition. “Want to tell me why Quinn sent a spy into my club?”
“She’s not a spy. She’s his daughter,” Jamie corrected, eyes traveling to me, taking in my naked state. He’s going to kill me later. “I don’t need to tell you the repercussions if you hurt her.”
Nicoli’s eyes narrowed at the threat. “I’m surprised. Here I thought you were looking for any reason to start a war.”
I looked between them as the hostility in the room grew. There seemed to be a history here I wasn’t aware of. The pure hatred in Jamie’s eyes was a clear indication of that.
“Why would Quinn send his daughter here?” Nicoli asked.
Before Jamie could answer, I took back control of the conversation. “Jamie.” My voice was low but summoned his full attention, nonetheless. Locking my eyes with his, I shook my head slightly, silently telling him I had this. When he stayed quiet, I knew he'd gotten the message. I returned my attention to Nicoli through the mirror. “That’s enough talking on our end. If you want answers, you know what you have to do.”
Nicoli looked from Jamie to me, noticing the power dynamic. Jamie had complied without question, which had been a relief as much as it had been a surprise. According to Stefan’s hierarchy, Jamie technically outranked me since my place in the family was still being determined, but in my mind—the mind of the boss’s daughter—no one outranked me except for the boss himself. The power here was mine and I wasn’t giving it up.
“The ball is in your court, Nicky.”
His eyes held mine, still seeming unsure.
“If it makes you feel better, I planned on approaching you after Mark left. You just saved me from giving you a cheesy pickup line. You have questions. I have questions. Shall we have a civil conversation?”
The corner of Nicoli’s lips pulled up slightly. He removed his gun from my head. With his hand still tangled in my hair, I knew he was waiting for me to make the next move.
“Put your guns down,” I ordered. Dean immediately lowered his. Louie looked to Jamie for reassurance while Jamie just stared at me, the muscle in his jaw flexed. He was not happy with me. I understood why, but the part of me that cared was smothered at the moment. Reluctantly, he removed his gun from the guard’s head and stepped back, with Louie following suit.
Nicoli released my hair. I stretched to my feet slowly and took a step toward my guys. Squaring my shoulders with confidence, I placed a hand on my hip, not giving a fuck what I had on display. I looked between the three of them. Dean's and Louie’s eyes wandered, taking in my goods. Jamie’s, however, stayed leveled with mine. “Wait for me out there,” I said, tilting my head toward the showroom. “I want to speak with the don alone.”
“Maura—”
My expression must have stopped Jamie from saying more. His disobedience made me itch to spill blood. Now was not the fucking time for him to question me. He briefly glanced at my state of undress, which only further angered him. As his eyes met mine again, I saw a small flicker of hesitance within the fiery blaze of his rage. He took a small step forward and in a low voice, he said, “I’m not going anywhere until you put some fucking clothes on.”
“Alec, go fetch a shirt from the office,” Nicoli ordered as he watched us. The guard next to Louie nodded and rushed out of the room. While we all waited silently for him to return, Jamie and I glared at each other in our usual battle of wills.
When Alec returned, a black T-shirt with the club’s logo on it in hand, he went to give it to me. Jamie intercepted him and snagged it from his hand. Without a word, he shook out the cotton shirt and pulled it over my head. I shoved my arms through their designated holes, and he pulled the hem down until it ended at mid-thigh.
“I’ll give you ten minutes,” Jamie said loud enough for everyone to hear. He glared at Nicoli before he stalked from the room.
I took a seat across the room to face the don and crossed my legs. I masked my face, leveling my stare with his.
His brow narrowed, eyes studying me. “I believe we had a deal. I removed my gun. Why are you here?”
My lips curled slowly into a mischievous smile. “Didn’t I answer that already? I believe it’s your turn to answer one of my questions.”