This is only temporary. A necessity. Once my mother is safe, we'll be leaving this town.

Far away from Kieran Murphy.

Far away from this nightmarish world where I don't belong.

Far away from stupidly attractive Liam Kavanaugh.

"You will be staying in my mansion, of course. The Albanians know what you look like. Going back to the street alone is not a good plan."

"But I need to stop by the hotel." I insist, my voice rising. "I need to get..."

"All taken care of. I already sent Nico to retrieve stuff from your hotel room."

I pause, frowning. "Wait, how do you know which hotel mom and I booked?"

"Your wallet."

"Excuse me?"

"You're officially checked out. As far as anyone is concerned, Alexandra and Zerina Martinaj have left Dublin. Now, follow me."

"Where are we going?" I am reluctant to heed his order.

"To show you where you'll be sleeping while under my protection. Yer always welcome to share my quarters." He licks his lips.

"No, thank you." I fumble with my words, desperately trying to hide my embarrassment.

"I didn't think ye would. Yet."

Bold of him he thinks I would, ever.

I follow the infuriating man through his opulent mansion, the sheer size of the place leaving me in awe. Finally, he opens the door to a lavish bedroom.

The floor is adorned with exquisite marble tiles, its cool surface reflecting the soft glow of the chandelier above. The walls are dressed in rich, shamrock-green wallpaper, a deep shade that exudes elegance. A plush sofa sits against one wall, its luxurious fabric inviting me to sink into its comfort. The bed fit for royalty stands proudly in the center, its ornate wooden frame adorned with intricate carvings. Even the art on the walls is a collection of carefully curated pieces, their vibrant colors and captivating brushstrokes adding a touch of sophistication to the space.

My eyes widen in awe. It's a stark contrast to the small, cramped flat back in Albania where my mom and I live; where the only splashes of color are a few plastic plants and a shelf with carefully chosen classics.

"So, what do you think of the bedroom arrangements?"Liam asks, a smug smile playing on his lips.

"It's certainly impressive." I pause for a moment, trying to find the right words. "I... I appreciate the gesture."

Deep down, I long for the comfort and coziness of our small flat. While undeniably beautiful, this bedroom still feels impersonal, like a display of wealth rather than a place of warmth and familiarity.

Liam glances at me. I wonder if his eyes caught the hint of hesitation on my face, but if they did, he does not comment on it. It's a small gesture, but I'm grateful for it all the same.

"I'm glad you are pleased." He walks over to the little fridge and helps himself to a glass of whisky. "You will have complete privacy here. I understand it's hard." He pauses, adding. "It's not easy to lose a loved one."

The sadness in his voice disarms me and for a moment I wonder if he is speaking from experience.

"No. It's not." I reply mechanically.

"So." Liam clears his throat, and I can practically feel his unease about the topic. "I am expected at Angels. Nico can escort you wherever you'd like to go, or you can stay in your bedroom and rest. You are safe here."

"Angels?"

"A lap dancing club Kieran owns. He'll be there tonight, as every night, and he expects me to attend...shall we say a...business meeting."

"I'd like to go with you." I jut my chin.

"Unfortunately for ye, sweetheart, you can't just walk into Angels. It doesn't work that way. Plus, I can get you all the information you need."

Like hell. I want to gather intel firsthand. I want to keep an eye on this man and be kept in the loop myself.

"I am not comfortable with just sitting here, waiting for you to return. I'd like to actively participate in everything. What if I...went under the pretext I wanted a job? Waiting tables, or whatever?" After all, I had three weeks off from my nursing job in Tirana.

"They hire people they trust. And the only way to get on that list is to build a rapport."

"So the quickest way for me to get their attention?"

"Curiosity can lead to one's downfall." Liam shoots me a warning look.

I roll my eyes at him. "I'm here because I want to play your game. I need information, and fast. So how do I get it?"

"Ye can come with me to Angels tomorrow. As my date."

"Tonight," The faster I get the ball rolling, the closer I will be to finding and rescuing my mother.

Liam's eyes appraise me, weighing my motivations.

His stubble brushes across my shoulder as he leans in closer. My skin breaks out in goosebumps.

"Are ye quite sure of this, sweetheart?" He drums his fingers against his whisky glass.

"I am."

"This is the big boy's yard, Alexandra. Don't play the game if you can't follow the rules."

"I will do anything it takes to save my mother."

And I mean it. I will do her proud. I will follow her footsteps to the gates of hell, if necessary, to get her out of this mess. The woman who raised me. The woman who gave me everything.

Liam stares at me with tenderness, compassion, and empathy.

For a brief moment, he looks like a regular person.

A non-mobster kind of a person.

It's unsettling. I don't want his pity. I want to get this done.

"Tonight, then." His eyes give me a quick once-over. "You will need to dress appropriately. You may wear what you wish, from here." Liam slides open the mirrored wardrobe.

Its interior reveals a dazzling display of dresses, skirts and various outfits, each more beautiful than the last. My eyes widen in awe at a vibrant array of colors: from elegant midnight blue to fiery crimson and soft pastel hues. These are stunning. Everything is designer, and nothing under a grand.

As I reach for the spandex mini skirt and look up in the mirror, I see myself burn in the emerald flame of his irises.

***

I take a deep breath and give myself one last once-over. Everything is in place. I don't want to come off too strong, but I need to up my game.

A knock on the door startles me from my thoughts.

"Ready to go?" Liam steps inside.

A dark energy crackles to life between us as I stare into his savage irises. They swirl with an intoxicating and vivid array of colors I can't drag myself away from. I'd swear they were dark green, but the next moment they seem to change to lime, and then back again.

Lust. Confliction. Pain.

I see it all as he stares at my outfit.

I can't help but wonder about the map of the scars on his back once more.

Liam sweeps his lecherous gaze across my spilling breasts but then he clears his throat.

"Ye look nice."

"Thank you," I mutter.

Nice wasn't the word I'd use but...

The tight black leather jacket and spandex mini skirt can only help my cause. Beneath lies more leather in the form of a strappy black bra and thong. Fishnet thigh highs and a smokey eye complete the look. No question about it, I have no intention of fighting fair tonight.

Angels club stakeout, here I come.

In the car, I tilt my head at Liam, and it's my turn to stare. My mouth goes dry as my greedy gaze skims his ensemble. So simple, yet so goddamn enticing. He's wearing his black dress shirt with the top two buttons undone. His sleeves are rolled up to his forearms showcasing his compass tattoo.

I'm overwhelmed by his briny scent, and there is a tugging ache just below my stomach, the urge to unbutton more of his silk shirt.

The drive to the club is silent, the type of silence that speaks volumes.

Liam steals glimpses at me when I'm not looking. I can sense his gaze everywhere.

I roll my eyes as the car rounds a corner and pulls into a driveway surrounded by flashy neon lights. Pulsating music is heard from within and there is a line of eager partygoers waiting to get in.

"Wow," I murmur, peering out of the window, my eyes traveling up the length of the establishment."You own this?"

"Kieran does, but aye, in his absence," Liam states as Nico opens the door for me.

I step out, the cool evening air making me shiver.

"Come," Liam says.

I follow him through the glass doors, gripping my purse as employees greet us with polite smiles. Their curiosity for me, and respect for Liam, are evident in their body language. The way they bow their heads as he passes like he's a king. A god.

"For now, I need you to smile, and not talk, understand, Alexandra? You don't want to fuck with this crew."

"What should I say if someone asks why we're together?" I inquire as Liam laces his fingers with mine.

The thumping of my heart fills my ears.

"The usual spiel. The one we agreed upon. You're my date for the evening." We enter an area of Angels that is littered with private alcoves.

I find myself squeezing Liam's hand back, anxiety creeping into my chest, as two men in black stand guard just outside the table, their arms crossed, their faces menacing.

I got this. No talk. Only listen. This is easy. I'm good at that.

The entire front bar is decked out in opulent oaks and mahogany. The walls are a rich crimson red; the floors, polished hardwood. The scent of beer permeates the air, teasing the patrons with the promise of everything one could want during a cool Dublin autumn. It's warm and homey, inviting even. But then again, I suspect that's probably how Kieran wanted it to look.

There's no sign on the door broadcasting his or Liam's affiliation to the place, but it seems it's a well-known fact he owns the joint.

Which means the people who frequent this establishment are either one of two things. "Business associates," or those too naive to know any better.

From all outward appearances, this place is legit. And while I'm sure it does well enough on its own, I have to wonder exactly what other kind of criminal activity they're fronting here. The Irish must deal in guns, drugs, or run some underground gambling establishments. But it's their rivalry with the Albanians that I'm worried about.

My eyes bounce from the three men lounging on the plum velvet chairs in the middle of the room to the scantily dressed women perched on their laps.

I've never even remotely been in a situation like this one. And yet, that's exactly what I've consciously done. I walked straight into the seedy underbelly of one of the city's largest criminal organizations and poked my nose where it doesn't belong.

If it were anyone else, I might be able to sit back and pretend I did not care. But it's not anyone else, it's my mother.

Even if the Albanians are responsible for her...I know that the Irish hang out in this club. And I know that one of those Irish, namely, my father, took a very strong interest in my mom. If they are planning to rescue her, I need to know about it.

"What is back there?" I whisper in Liam's ear as we sit down. It's a part of the club that's closed off by dark walls and a pair of velvet curtains with a burly bouncer standing guard.

"That's where exotic dancing takes place. VIP. Invitation only." As Liam leans to whisper back, his intoxicating scent hangs in the air between us. Ocean, salt, sweet limes, and the leather from his jacket.

"Can we go there?"

"Alexandra." His breath skates over my ear in a menacing whisper as he realizes my intention. "Now why the feck would ye want to do that?" His accent definitely gets thicker when he's pissy, and it makes me smile for some odd reason.

"I know we mentioned a cocktail waitress decoy at first," I drawl in a sugary voice. "But maybe this way, I would have access to more information and I could overhear the meeting."

"No." He takes a step back and eyes me off like he isn't quite sure what to make of me.

Everything about Liam is now dark, powerful, and mysterious. It almost makes me feel strangely attracted to his dangerous persona.

Almost.

I'm not completely crazy.

"I can pretend I want a job," I tell him. "And right there it says they have openings for dancers."

What happens next shocks the hell out of me.

He actually laughs. A real, full-on, thunderous belly laugh."Ah Jaysus, sweetheart..." Liam's laughing so hard his eyes water. "yer kind of cute. Dead gorgeous in fact. But ye already know I'm not going to let you do that."

I cross my arms and glare. "And why the hell not?"

"Ah, I don't know." The amusement drains from his face as he leans down and looks me dead in the eyes. "Maybe because I don't fecking trust you and I just met you earlier today."

"And how much do you need to trust me to watch me shake my ass on stage for ten minutes?"

"A lot more than ye might expect."

My eyes roam over his unrelenting expression, and a little piece of my hope shatters.

"Just let me pretend-audition, while the customers watch."

"Customers? Those men out there? They're fucking animals, every last one of them. And you'd be the center of their attention. We want you to lay low instead."

"I can handle it. By the way, isn't the rule 'look but don't touch'?"

"yer kind of a feisty wee thing." He grabs my arms and pins me in place. "Aren't ya? Never would've pegged ye for such."

For the briefest of seconds, something odd flashes in his eyes. Something that looks like hunger.

"It would be only temporary. Just tonight. Only until I hear some useful information? Maybe some of the other dancers have heard of what happened?" I bat my eyelashes, giving him my best puppy eye look.

His fingers lace with mine even firmer than before, and his thumb skates over my pulse.

Of course, this only makes my heart beat faster. Liam's eyes spark when I lick my suddenly very dry lips.

I try to stand up and snatch my hand back, but he doesn't let me. His skin feels so hot against mine, and I'm not sure why.

This is that intimacy thing I'm not so familiar with. Being so close to someone in their space. Breathing the same air and smelling their scent.

He's looking at me like he's worried sick about me. About what could happen to me if I really do pretend to be a dancer in Angels.

But at the same time, the corners of his mouth tip up into the smallest hint of boyish smile that he can't seem to help.

Game face, Sandra. Game face on. This man is a mobster. A killer, remember? A low-life criminal.

You only struck a deal with him to save your mother. You are not that girl. Never have been. You save lives that he snuffs out.

So what the hell is going on?

Liam watches me stew silently in his grasp.

"So," I huff like I've got better things to do. "Are you gonna let me audition, or what?"

He reaches down and tips my chin up so I have to meet his gaze. Now his mouth is just inches from mine, so close his breath is mingling with mine.

It's so hypnotizing I can only stare, mesmerized. What the hell is wrong with me? I pull back and regain my space.

Then I hold up my fingers and start listing off the reasons why he should give me this chance.

"I'm really good at this. I've taken pole dancing classes before. And what better place to hide out than in the open? Inside the hive of the Irish mafia? I can't just sit locked up in your mansion 24/7. I want the info. I want in on the action. I might meet someone tonight, who could provide me with the intel you might not be able to get."

"Have you got any idea what yer getting yourself into, sweetheart? This wasn't part of the plan. Ye only came to watch, as my date. Not to audition fer a fecking lap dancer. Not only that it won't get ye yer ma back, but yer liable to get yerself some new cement shoes if you keep running your mouth like that around here."

"I can look after myself."

Liam rakes his fingers through his hair and huffs in exasperation. I can tell he's considering it.

"Remember what I told you? When Kieran is not here, I run this club as his second in command."

"No issue. Whatever you say goes. Just let me have one dance."

Liam arches a brow at me, all the while his fingers are burning into my skin. How can one man have so much heat radiating off him?

"One dance," he whispers, clearly frustrated at my stubbornness, but I swear there's also a flash of excitement in his eyes.