"The damage was done the moment our eyes collided."
~Xavier De Luca
***
One life-altering night ignites a soul-scorching passion between a gangster and a good girl...One that could burn everyone they know and love to ashes.
Loyalties and legacies...
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I had every reason to kill the Irish mutts making a public scene outside my front door. Christian was so pissed, his entire form vibrated as he aimed his pistols at the hotheads screaming like a pair of sauced leprechauns.
My guards descended from all sides, surrounding our visitors to cut off their escape.
A real man? I'd be happy to show Cillian exactly how a real man reacts when he's disrespected in front of his crew.
I may be just 'the IT guy' and a Skipper for my family, but one day, I'll be the Underboss, or even, Consiglieri to Christian. I can't ever be anything but a ruthless motherfucker or I'll become the weak link in our family's armor. My guards have seen me end people for far less.
But when I heard the scuffle of Grace's dainty feet on the floor of my foyer, everything lapsed into slow motion.
Too many guns went straight for my doorway, including my own brother's, itchy to take out whoever was running headfirst into the brewing shitstorm.
My muscles jolted into action as her uncle and that mongrel Cillian used the commotion to turn on my guards.
A scuffle broke out and fists began to fly. My men dove into the brawl with the close-contact bloodlust they've been trained to use, only to be met blow-for-fucking-blow by those two Paddy asshats.
I would have been impressed if I wasn't already seeing red.
"Christian, that's my girl!" I bellowed, backing up to the doorframe while my brother aimed his guns back into the fray, "Cover me!"
The rowdy brawl gave me the second I needed to catch Grace's tiny body as she flew through the door.
Then, the muffled pop a gun was swallowed by an ear-splitting scream at my side. Grace flailed against the arm I'd slung around her waist so I could keep my weapon on the turmoil.
"He fuckin' shot me!" Cillian's agonized scream all but stopped the fight, "That jackeen fucking shot me in the foot!"
My guards parted like the Red Sea for Moses as Christian approached to assess the situation. Cillian sagged against Grace's uncle, holding his foot and howling like a wounded animal.
"Of course, they shot you!" Grace yelling at Cillian stretched my mouth into a wry smile. "You just stormed someone's home, you half-eejit! And nobody's got me locked up, I'm here because I want to be!"
That was my girl. She may look like an angel, but she could burn like hellfire. Of course, I couldn't let my men, or Christian for that matter, see her get away with that sort of backtalk, even to our enemies. So, I spun her around and planted her on my front stoop.
My heart swelled past bursting when she bit down on her bottom lip and blushed like I'd been talking dirty to her.
She was ready to scratch eyes out a second ago, and yet, she demurred to me the moment she felt the full force of my strength behind her.
