Striding across the room, I tap her sharply on the shoulder. Her head snaps around as I jerk my head to the back room. Casey throws me a relieved look as she rises.
Jimmy, one of our male dealers, slides into her seat as I nod to Alexei. He nods back. He’s a regular here. He knows why Casey was removed from the table.
Turning to his guest, his face twists as he spits out a lengthy diatribe in Russian. His guest spits something back at him, and Alexei’s face darkens.
He flicks his finger where it’s lying on the table next to his chips, and the Bratok sitting beside the guest pulls out a knife, slashing at his throat. The guest makes a horrible gurgling noise and slumps forward on the table. Jesus fuck. That’s the last thing I needed tonight.
Jimmy is frozen on the spot, a few drops of blood spattered on his face. The waitress servicing the table, Lisa, screams, dropping her tray as the room erupts.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I hit the emergency call button to alert the rest of my crew to get the fuck up here. The two security guards from outside the door burst in. One of them must call down to the two at the bottom of the stairs because they also appear.
De Luca is still seated at table two, looking amused as he continues to drink whiskey slowly. I shoot him a look, and he sighs, draining his glass, and shoving his chips into his pocket. He will be able to cash them out at the VIP bar downstairs.
I clamp my hand over Lisa’s mouth, the screaming finally muffled. Ryan crosses to me from table three, taking her and dragging her off to the back room. He’s managed to herd most of the other waitresses and dealers. Hopefully, he can calm them down easily.
Ronan and Niall burst into the room, take one look at the chaos and start shepherding regulars out of the room and down the stairs. Finally, everything calms down, and it’s only the Russian contingent left who are yelling at each other.
Jimmy is still seated, blinking in shock. The specks of blood on his face have started to slide down his cheek.
Seamus has arrived by this time, and I leave him and Paddy to calm things down with the Russians. I run the poker tables. I don’t deal with maintaining alliances when people fuck up like Alexei just did.
Gripping Jimmy’s shoulder, I haul him up, steering him downstairs and through to Seamus’s office.
“Mellie,” I call to her where she’s washing a coffee mug in the kitchenette. She hurries after me, closing the office door firmly behind us. She sinks to her knees in front of Jimmy, where he is seated, reaching up with a tissue to wipe the blood spots off his face.
I force a tumbler of brandy into his hand, and he mechanically lifts it to his mouth and downs the whole thing in one swallow.
After three more glasses, he’s at least regained some color and stopped staring into the distance.
“I’ve never seen someone die before,” he whispers. Mellie looks up, raising an eyebrow at me.
I shake my head at her. I’m sure Niall will tell his wife everything when they get home. Speaking of home, tonight has been a fucking shit show. I can’t wait to get home to Andie’s calming presence.
Chapter FIVE
ANDIE
Connor is awake earlier than usual this morning. He’s wandering through the house when I get back from my morning jog, blinking at me in surprise when I come through the front door.
Pulling out my headphones, I go to greet him, but the words stick in my throat as his eyes heat up and lazily trail down my body.
I’ve never given much thought to what I wear when I run. Yoga pants and a cropped sports top with a built-in bra work well. But right now, as Connor’s eyes linger over my breasts and my exposed midriff, I swallow convulsively.
“I wondered where ye were, lass,” he speaks at last, his eyes glued to my stomach.
“I-I run in the mornings.”
His gaze flits back up to meet mine, his eyes hot and hungry.
“I find it’s a great way to start the day….” I trail off as we stare at each other in heated silence. My cheeks are heating as much as my…thighs… and I fight the urge to fan myself.
Finally, Connor clears his throat, turning away. “I’ll make coffee while ye shower, lass.”
Thankfully he turns away, moving toward the kitchen because my breathing hitches at his husky tone. Connor freezes mid-step for the briefest moment like he heard it. How mortifying. Luckily, he keeps walking into the kitchen.
My face on fire, I sprint upstairs to have the world’s fastest shower, tugging on jeans and an oversized sweater to be safe. Staring at my reflection in the full-length mirror of the closet door, my eyes linger on my flushed cheeks and too-bright eyes.
“Get it together, girl,” I tell myself sternly. “He’s your boss. Stop being so thirsty!”