Cian (Irish Mob of Boston #2)

Prologue

Caitlin

New York City, twenty-nine years ago...

He left. Again. Every fucking night he walks out and doesn’t come back until late. I don’t know why he even married me. Yes, I do. My father. He is the reason for everything that’s wrong in my life.

Eamon O’Malley may have been the legitimate son of Casper O’Malley, the former head of the IRA, but he was a fucking bastard.

And I was the youngest of his bastard children.

That we knew of, anyway.

There was no telling how many children my father had spread throughout the world. I wanted to hate him. And I did, but I loved him too. I knew he loved me. He treated me better than he did Sal.

Braesal O’Malley was my older brother. We had different mothers, but they made sure my brother and I grew up together. They fostered a relationship between the two of us. My mother, Brona, and Sal’s mother, Kathleen, had been friends until Kathleen, together with her husband and son, moved south.

Sal was the heir to the throne, so to speak. And for that reason, my father was hard on him. He expected more from my brother than from anyone else in the family or the organization. Even Eduardo had a better relationship with our father than Sal did.

Eduardo was an Italian from New York. No one understood why my father had brought him into the fold. Eamon hated the Italians. Almost as much as he hated the Russians. I had my suspicions, but he would never admit it.

Not to me. Not to his daughter. It didn’t matter that I was smarter than both Sal and Eduardo. I didn’t have a dick; therefore, I was only good for one thing.

Alliances.

That was how I found myself married to a man who wanted nothing to do with me. Oh, we had sex. He certainly got his fill of that. I didn’t. Nolan couldn’t find a clit if he were given a map and led there with a giant flashing red arrow.

So here I was, married six months, and the only orgasms I had, I had given to myself.

I didn’t have many friends. Not close friends anyway. There was Maureen; she was only two years younger than me, but she was engaged to Duane. Duncan’s younger brother. Duncan was a friend of Sal’s. I couldn’t risk the chain of custody with regard to my secrets.

Duncan had an older sister, Darcy. Darcy was my friend. And despite being Sal’s girlfriend, I’d trusted her.

I missed Darcy. If she were here, I could talk to her. But she’d left. Run off a few years back. Not a word to anyone. Maybe I should run off. My father refused to look for her. No matter how much Sal pleaded.

I wondered whether my father would look for me.

I knew my husband wouldn’t.

Standing at the kitchen sink, with my hands in a dishpan of soapy water, I stared out the window into the backyard. I didn’t want to live this life. I didn’t want to be in a loveless marriage.

Shaking my head, I rinsed my hands and dried them on a towel as I made a decision. If my husband could go out and do whatever the hell he wanted, then I would as well.

After all, I was my father’s daughter. Why was it only the men who got to have all the fun?

I went upstairs to my closet and searched through my clothes. Having found the dress I wanted, I quickly showered, dried my hair, and put on my makeup. I grabbed my sluttiest heels and went out for a night on the town.

I couldn’t stay in the city. That was a given. Everyone here knew who I was. No one would approach me. Everyone in the city knew who my husband was; it was the reason he’d pursued me. He wanted to run the family in New York, and marrying the boss’ daughter was the easiest way to achieve that.

I climbed into my car and drove east to Connecticut. No one would recognize me there. I knew Nolan wouldn’t be home tonight. He always stayed out on Tuesday evenings. He thought I didn’t know about his many mistresses.

I just didn’t care.

The only reason he even had sex with me was because he wanted an heir. Someone to mold, like my father. God, I hated this life.

I should run. I should drive south and just keep driving. Maybe move out west. I’d heard California was nice. That would take more planning than a trip outside the city.

Tonight, I was only looking for one thing: someone who could make my toes curl and my eyes pop out of my head.

I walked into the dark bar and looked around. The music playing was sultry. This close to the city, I wondered if this was where the businessmen came to when their wives were nagging just a little too much.

It had a romantic feel. But darker. It seemed the perfect place for a tawdry little affair. I walked up to the bar and ordered a dirty martini. The dirtier, the better. I’d taken a sip and set the glass down when I felt him behind me.

I smelled his cologne and my eyes closed.

Of all the bars in all the world...

“What the fuck are you doing here, Caity?”

My name was a growl on his lips, and I felt the arousal pool between my legs. He was the only man I’d ever had that reaction to. But he ignored me. He had to. I was off-limits. His best friend’s little sister.

I took a deep breath and turned on the stool. His hands rested on the bar, his arms caging me in.

Cian McCarthy was six feet four inches tall, with dark brown hair and icy blue eyes. The kind of eyes that could pierce into your soul and see every secret you ever hid.

And I was in love with him.

I had been most of my life. But he ignored me. No matter how much I’d flirted, he’d never given me a second look. But here he was tonight. And unless I missed my guess, he was doing his damnedest not to look.

My eyes roamed over his face, noticing the hard set of his eyes. The way his jaw ticked, as if he was grinding his teeth, trying to stay in control. His eyes dipped to my lips, and his jaw ticked again. I knew he wanted to look further. The dress I wore was sinfully low-cut.

Instead of answering his question, I did something I never thought I would be brave enough to do. I leaned forward and placed my hands on his chest. He stiffened beneath me just as I pressed my lips to his.

In for a penny...

I licked at the seam of his lips, praying he would respond to me. If he didn’t—well, we lived in different states. I could easily avoid him for the rest of my life, if I didn’t die of embarrassment first.

When I pulled back, his eyes were the color of sapphires. Dark blue and hooded, they burned with what I could only assume was lust. My hands moved up toward his shoulders, and his heavy breathing emboldened me further.

“Kiss me, Cian,” I whispered.

“Caity,” he groaned back. The sound hit me in my chest. A pleading request, as if he were fighting a war he knew he wouldn’t win, and I wondered if, just maybe, he wanted me as much as I wanted him.

My hands went to his cheeks, and I pulled him forward. My legs spread, enticing him to take a step closer. When my lips brushed his, he finally gave in. He smashed his mouth against mine, pushing me against the bar. His hand moved to the back of my head, holding me in place as he devoured me.

“Why are you here, Caity?” he asked as he trailed his lips across my jaw. My head fell back, giving him room. He sucked the spot where my neck met my shoulder, and I whimpered.

He pulled back and studied my face. I bit my lip as I looked up at him. I couldn’t voice out loud what I wanted. But the look on his face told me I didn’t have to.

“He’ll fuckin’ kill me if he ever finds out,” he confirmed, and I knew in that moment that he’d give me what I wanted. He stepped back and pulled a few bills from his wallet, throwing them on the bar. Then, grabbing my hand, he dragged me outside.

Neither of us said a word as we walked hand in hand down the busy street until we reached a hotel. Inside the lobby, he didn’t stop at the desk; he walked straight to the elevator, and I knew he already had a room.

I had no idea why he was here, but I knew he was here alone. If he weren’t, he’d never take this chance. The elevator doors closed, and he rounded on me, pushing me against the wall.

“Do you have any idea what you fuckin’ do to me?” he asked as his hand trailed up my thigh, lifting the hem of my dress.

I still couldn’t speak; the only sound from my mouth was a gasp when Cian squeezed my ass. His lips were on my throat, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. My panties were so wet I could smell the anticipation in the small space.

The bell dinged, and Cian stepped back as the doors opened, leaving me feeling cold at the loss of his body heat against me. He took my hand and led me down the hall to a room. The key card he pushed into the lock turned the light green, and he opened the door.

“Be sure, Caity. Because once we go there, there’s no turning back.”

I didn’t say a word; I simply slipped past him into the room, untying the sash at my waist as I walked forward. When I heard the door click shut, I turned around and dropped my dress on the floor.