Chapter 41

RONAN

Dean Prescott was standing too close.

Too fucking close.

From where I sat at the bar, whiskey searing in my throat, I saw him lean in toward Nadine, his body positioned toward her as if he had every right to be in her space. The muscles in my back knotted, my hand tightening around the glass, the ice digging into my fingers as I struggled—struggled—to remain seated.

Vaughn, the smug son of a