American Dynasty

N I N E

Dohmnall Gleeson as Brady Doyle ^^^

*****

"I think Dante would make a wonderful husband," Stella's best friend Fiorella Dioli said. The two girls strolled down the street with their arms linked, shopping bags in hand and trying their best to fend off the cold. Summer had drawn to a close nearly two months ago and late October now brought chillier air and shorter days.

Stella glanced at the sky, noticing that the sun was long gone. Stella had arranged to meet her father's chauffer, Alesio, in ten minutes, but the car was supposed to be parked another fourteen blocks away.

"Come on," Stella urged Fiorella. "We need to hurry, I don't want Alesio to begin to worry about us."

They hustled down the street, navigating their way through the crowds. They came to a section of the street that was slightly less populated, with only a few people milling about here and there. They passed by an alleyway where a group of well-dressed young men were walking out, laughing loudly and smoking cigarettes. The faint smell of alcohol was enough evidence for Stella to deduce that there must have been a door to a speakeasy in that alley. The girls went unnoticed except to one sharp eyed man who zeroed in on Stella.

"Hey!" He called out, gaining the other men's attention. Stella glanced over her shoulder, stopping in her tracks when she realized that they were all looking at her. "Aren't you Stella Biancardi?" The man who had yelled at her looked at her up and down appreciatively. His mildly slurred words were coated with a thick, lilting Irish accent.

"Yes. Why?" She said sharply, not liking the way his eyes roamed her body.

Fiorella gripped Stella's arm tighter, beginning to get nervous. Stella placed a reassuring hand on her friend's, not concerned about their situation. They were in a public place; these men couldn't do anything to them.

The man took a long drag from his cigarette. "You really are as curvaceous and gorgeous as they say. Isn't she boys?" His companions murmured in agreement, sizing up the girls as well.

Stella smiled falsely. "Is that all?"

The man came closer to them, taking slow steps. Stella's body tensed and her dark eyes followed his every movement. The corner of the man's mouth turned up in a crooked smile, seemingly amused at the agitation he was making her feel.

"Is it really safe for you to be out without a guard this late when your father is conducting the kind of business he's conducting?"

Stella frowned in confusion. "I beg your pardon?"

"Beppe has done some questionable deeds lately. Wouldn't want you to get into the middle of a retaliation attempt and end up getting snatched up by one of the gangs," he said with mock concern, tracing a finger down Stella's jaw. She jerked away from his touch, making him chuckle.

"I dare you to touch her again."

It was a different voice that had spoken this time, but Stella recognized it immediately. Flynn Dempsey stood a mere ten feet away from them, flanked by two men, both equally as tall and muscular as himself.

His blue eyes locked with hers and she felt cold tingles dance on every vertebrae of her spine. She hadn't seen those eyes in several months but she could never forget the irises as blue as sapphires that seemed to stare right into her soul.

As the newcomers passed by the larger group of men Flynn glared at them intimidatingly. Some of them glanced uneasily at each other and at their leader who was standing with the girls, unsure of whether to stand their ground or leave as quickly as they could. With his hands tucked casually into his pockets Flynn slowly approached the girls as his companions stayed back to keep an eye on the other men.