"this dress is actually tight." Irene said staring at her image in the mirror.
"I'll say it's quite lovely." Louis said lighting her cigar.
"Louis! I told you to do that outside. You're choking me." Louis laughed before going out.
"Be quick and get dressed, I don't want to be late for the party." She say and applied her make up.
"Do you think he'll be there?" She asked with a grin.
"Miss Irene O' Connor, you have been attending literally every party in Scotland hoping to see this gentleman that I don't know so let's just hope he'll be there." She laughed and picked up her phone.
***
Irene stood in the massive room illuminated by the bright lights and loud music.
"You don't seem to enjoy tonight's party, how about we ditch this slum and go to a club."
"You know I don't do that Louis." She eyed and Louis rolled her eyes.
"Fine, I'll just sit here and wait till a perfect gentleman comes to whisk me off and fuck me in the garden."
"Louis! Don't let anyone hear you." They both laughed.
"Pardon me Miss heiress but I'm not innocent like you." Irene laughed at her friend's comment.
"Hello Miss O' Connor, it's a pleasure." Irene took the charming man's hand in a small handshake.
"And you are?" She asked with a small smile.
"Gerald O' Sullivan", Irene's eyes widened, the son of Michelle O' Sullivan, the Irish mob boss.
She smiled politely hoping not to offend him.
"Shall I have this dance?" He said taking her hands again.
"Of course." But a loud no screamed in the back of her mind.
As she danced hand in hand with him she caught the familiar sent and knew the person she wanted to see had arrived.
"You seem distracted Miss Connor." She immediately looked away from his figure and turned back to Gerald.
"There's just a lot on my mind."
"What's wrong?"
She saw him talking to a few men in a table.
"It is merely business, nothing of much concerns the song ended and she walked back to where Louis was standing.
"I saw him."
"Who?"
"The man I told you about."
"So?.... You really were thinking about another man while dancing with the Gerald O' Sullivan?" She glared at Irene.
"Who gives a fuck about Gerald?"
"Literally every normal woman in Ireland and Scotland, that's who." Irene rolled her eyes.
"He is handsome but I won't want to get myself involved with the cosa nostra."
"The wife of a respected mob boss.... You don't want to be queen of the Ireland mafia?" Louis asked glaring at her and she sighed
"If you asked me Louis, I'll say that position is for you....also I...." Louis followed Irene's gaze to a handsome....okay drop dead gorgeous man sitted across the room with a few other men.
"Is that him." Irene nodded, "uh huh."
"I haven't seen him before." Louis said looking at the people around him
Irene sighed and they both walked back to a table and Irene helplessly watched her stuff eclairs in her mouth.
"Irene."
"Mmm!"
"Don't look but your man is coming this way."
"My what?" Irene turned swiftly and almost bumped into the hot shot.
"Miss Irene." She smiled as he took her hand and planted a slight kiss on her knuckle.
"Good evening.... And you are?"
"You can call me Tristan."
She smiled at him looking deep into his midnight eyes.