Liam O’Grady realised he had been foolish.

He had stormed out without waiting to get his bodyguards to accompany him.

And now, from the looks of the men bearing down on him, they meant business. he sighed and turned back to his drink, taking a large swig.

Pulling a face, he turned to look at the men who settled on barstools on either side of him, flanking him, effectively fencing him in.

Bikers in gleaming leather, patches on their vests, tattoos over their arms and necks.

O’Grady sighed. Sweet Jaysus. They had really chosen their moment!

They were preventing him from making a dash for it, thought the Irishman grimly....