bet you have all kinds of stories . . .”
“Granny,” Mamie hissed, “we should be discouraging this.”
“Oh, I’ve smoothed things over with the Stewarts. They believe he’s here as one of Frank’s clients, a man in the grips of redemption.”
Jack snorted. Redemption wouldn’t keep him alive, considering his vast number of enemies. The instant he loosened his grip on his territory was the beginning of the end. Still, he was grateful for the lie if it saved Justine’s reputation.
He didn’t know when he’d started caring about her reputation. Likely when he’d seen the pallor of her skin a few moments ago, the embarrassment lurking in her gaze. He hadn’t expected to feel anything tonight, certainly not remorse. Jack looked ahead, always. Never behind.
“That was kind of you, Granny,” Justine said, “but not necessary. I am prepared to deal with the ramifications of the evening.”
“You will have to,” Mamie said. “Granny cannot spread that tale to everyone in the theater.”
“Now is not the time,” Frank said in a low voice. “Not with ears everywhere. Let’s sit and enjoy the performance.”
The eldest Greene sister gave him a dark look before she left the box, while everyone else settled into seats. Frank kept glancing over his shoulder, as if Jack might pounce on Justine at any moment and steal her innocence.
Thoughts of innocence left him wondering . . . had Justine slept with Billy Ferris last year? If so, something told Jack that Ferris had done a lousy job of it. The two hadn’t lasted even three months together. That didn’t exactly scream “passionate affair.”
Now, if Jack had bedded Justine . . . he’d keep her naked, in bed, for days on end, worshipping her. She deserved to be studied and mapped, drawn and painted. The woman was layers upon layers of contradiction. Virginal and feisty. Pure and fierce. Selfless and dedicated. What did all that dedication feel like when it was directed toward a man’s pleasure? Fuck, he could grow hard just contemplating it.
And why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?
She thinks you are puddle scum.
Yes, there was that.
“You look very dashing tonight,” she whispered.
A compliment? If he were a schoolgirl he might have blushed. “Thank you.”
Hmm, perhaps she was reconsidering her opinion of him. He didn’t know whether to be grateful or terrified of the idea. If she were attracted to him, then he might consider exploring it, seeing where this battle of wills between them would lead.
Even though something told him he wouldn’t come out on top.
Minutes later, the footlights at the base of the stage were illuminated. From the wings came Mrs. Tripp, a graceful queen, to the center of the stage. The audience grew quiet, but Jack watched with only partial interest. He was more curious about the woman next to him.
He snuck a glance at Justine and the proud smile she wore as she watched her sister. A tiny spark of jealousy lit his chest. Jack had no family nearby. After his brother’s acquittal—an event that began Jack’s association with Frank Tripp—Jack had shipped him off to Cleveland. They hadn’t seen one another in four years.
As far as parents went, Jack’s mother died when he was eleven. The identity of his father had never been shared with him, a secret his mother took to her grave. Most of his memories of her were from the days in the Green Dragon Saloon, a Bowery mainstay that had seen the worst of the Dead Rabbits and Bowery B’hoy fights in the late ’50s.
Inside those shabby walls, he grew up hearing stories about the gangs and their destruction, the bludgeons and brickbats, how the men would fight each other instead of everyone else. It hadn’t escaped his notice how the women in the brothel took care of one another, banding together against an unruly client or speaking out when the owner enacted a policy they didn’t like.
He learned one important lesson in his childhood. Alone, you were vulnerable. Together meant you were infinitely stronger. Those ideals, camaraderie and brotherhood, had earned Jack an empire.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mamie said. “Thank you for attending this evening. I am Mrs. Frank Tripp. My husband runs the Lower East Side Legal Aid Society. As many of you know, we serve the needy and underrepresented in New York by offering them free legal assistance, helping to find lost family members, filing papers, and so much more. Why, last year alone we . . .”
She continued on but Jack ignored the speech. He admired what the