Chapter 1
Chapter One
IVY
M y athair’s funeral came on a cold February day with a promise that things would never be the same. Athair— Father in Gaelic—had kept secrets, we all knew it, but some were inexcusable, even for him.
Such as his mysterious meetings with Sofia Volkov, a woman I’d met once years ago and who was now enemy number one among most criminal organizations.
How could he have left me with this mess?
All things considered, it was a beautiful day. Sunlight splayed onto the estate’s immaculate grounds, where men in black suits guided women in black dresses and heels through to the burial spot. The Irish mafia and the kingpins had come to pay their respects as the cold winter air swept through Ireland, the frozen ground welcoming my athair’s coffin as it lowered to join my mother’s.
The black veil danced around my face while my brothers crowded me. Ever since Athair’s death, they’d been even more protective than usual, almost like they were waiting for me to collapse in my grief. But, strange as it sounded, I felt nothing but numbness as I watched the coffin disappear.
Wynter squeezed my hand before drifting away with her husband, replaced by Davina and her husband, who wrapped their arms around me and said, “Want to come back with us?”
I barely had time to open my mouth when my eldest brother, Aemon, replied, “We’ll need Ivy here with us.”
Bren and Caelan muttered their agreement, sharing furtive glances with Aemon, and I sighed with resignation. Whatever they were hiding, those three would never share it with me, but little did they know how determined I was to find out.
“It’s okay,” I murmured, pressing a kiss on Davina’s cheek. “I’ll call you later.”
Someone cried. A Hail Mary traveled in the wind like a caress. More weeping.
I watched my friend and her husband drift away when I noticed Juliette out of the corner of my eye, standing with her husband, Dante DiLustro. I frowned, surprised she hadn’t come up to me. Usually she was the first one to comfort me and vice versa.
“You ready?” Bren asked.
“Just a moment.”
Caelan took my hand before I could take a step and squeezed it gently. “Just remember, we need you home. We don’t want you going off with your friends until we eliminate this threat.”
“What threat?”
He winced like he’d let something slip. “Nothing for you to worry about. You just need to stay in Ireland and out of trouble.”
Slipping my hands into my dress pockets, I headed through the cemetery, the frost crunching beneath my boots.
“Hey,” I greeted, kissing Juliette’s pale cheek, closing my eyes and breathing deeply as her dark hair curtained us in.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be, we all know this life always brings death.” My voice cracked, and I wiped a stray tear from my cheek.
“Not always,” Dante protested.
“Maybe so,” I said, flashing him a tight smile. There was a weight in my chest, something I hadn’t been able to shake off since hearing of my athair’s death. “Although, one could argue…” I gestured around at the funeralgoers but stopped short when I noticed the tears glistening in Juliette’s eyes. The guilt instantly flared and I added, “Of course, none of this will happen to you.”
“I have something to tell you,” Juliette blurted.
I raised my brow, waiting for her to continue, when Dante wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “This isn’t the time. We should be going.”
He steered Juliette toward the shiny black car parked beyond the procession, whispering into her ear as they went.
My gaze caught on a suit-clad figure off to the side. There Priest stood, hands in his pockets and his gaze on me. I hadn’t seen him since Wynter’s wedding where he’d turned me down hard and fast. Embarrassment racked my body as I thought back to that day. It was barely a year ago, yet it felt like decades had gone by.
I waited with bated breath for the slow ticking to explode into a full-blown war. And through the whole tense ordeal, my gaze tracked Priest.
He’d been keeping to himself since this reception started, usually in the company of his cousins and brother. Spotting him alone now, I slowly made my way over to him, silently whispering encouragement to myself with each step.
“Hey,” I greeted him nervously. The man looked incredible in a tux, and I couldn’t help picturing him on his knees, my leg thrown casually over his broad shoulder, my fingers slipping through his golden hair.
When he flicked a brief glance my way, my anxiety grew. Maybe he didn’t even remember Philly? After all, months had gone by.
I shifted uncomfortably, then continued, “Umm, not sure if you remem ? —”
“I remember,” he cut me off, his jaw clenching.
Surprise washed over me, but before I could relish in the fact, realization sunk in. He was pissed.
“I’m Ivy, by the way,” I said, the catch in my voice betraying my confidence.
Priest shrugged. “I know.”
Tension sent a nervous tremor through me. These mafia men usually left me unaffected, yet something about him and his size—or was it the darkness that surrounded him?—turned me into a puddle.
“Aren’t you going to tell me yours?”
I wanted his hands on me, his head between my legs again, and even more… I wanted him inside me.
“No.” I froze, and before I could conjure a thought or a word, he continued in a cold voice. “You confused our last encounter with something it will never be.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“That day in the hallway… It’ll never happen again.” Conflict and something else waged in his eyes, but before I could identify it, his gaze coasted above me, his jaw pulsing in thought. “You need to forget about it.”
My chest went cold and humiliation planted seeds inside of me.
What was I thinking?
Just because I was a virgin didn’t mean I had to fall for the first man who’d made me orgasm. God, I was a walking cliché.
I swallowed. “You’re right. You’re nothing I’d ever want for myself. I’m glad we’re both on the same page so we can move past it.”
“Agreed,” he snapped.
Hurt and confused, I turned around and left, the weight of his gaze burning the back of my neck the whole way to the car.
The cutting ache of his rejection still stung to this day. If I was smart, I’d turn my back on him and find my brothers.
But I didn’t feel like being smart today.
“Did someone blackmail you?” I asked, raising a brow in fake amusement. I’d be damned if I showed him how much his rejection burned. “Or are you here out of some misplaced duty to mourn his loss?”
His jaw clenched and he shook his head, his gaze dropping to the ground. When it came back up to me, it was so haunted it pinned me to the spot.
“I’m not a heartless monster, angel.” Shock rocked me at my center, stealing my breath. He hadn’t called me that since the day at his club when he’d put his mouth on me. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” I swallowed, familiar pain throbbing in my chest. “I’m going to find who killed him.”
My words shook with emotion. I didn’t know why I said them. I hadn’t even dared to think them until now. The vengeance would be the only thing that could cool the fire in my blood.
“Trust me, it’s better this way.” He looked around the cemetery, landing where my athair’s casket full of flowers lay. “For you.”
My lungs felt tight. “That’s not for you to decide.”
His gaze was steady, and I knew his next words would be harsh, so I cut in. “Do you want my thanks for rejecting me and making me feel like…” I trailed off, my throat burning, but I steadied myself. “It no longer matters, because I’ve moved on.”
It was a lie, and he must have known it. We stared at each other as that awareness settled between us.
“That’s good,” he gritted. “It’s not like there’s any love lost.”
“Definitely not. It’s not like it matters anyhow,” I retorted, my heart beating hard against my rib cage.
He shook his head, hissing through his teeth. His eyes lifted to mine, and they flashed with possession. With his handsome face, he looked ready to dole out some punishment. The question was on whom.
“It matters, angel.” I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Suddenly I was terrified of the look in this man’s eyes—dark, violent. “The next time I touch you,” he bit out, “I’m going to break both of us.”
I swallowed, the insinuation of his words sounding more like a promise than a threat.
Something about them warned me that I should keep my distance. Nothing good could come from this untapped chemistry.
He took my silence as rejection and shook his head.
“Go back to your family, Ivy.”
He turned to leave and I knew, deep in my gut, that I wouldn’t see him again for the foreseeable future.