Prologue

I stared out the window, my reflection still dressed in my Sunday best, though I no longer wore my jacket, and my tie was hanging from my neck.

Five hours ago, my cousin had gotten married, and though it'd been a family affair only, the math had added up to two sets of parents, eight O'Brien and Murphy men, six sisters-in-laws, and enough kids to make ibuprofen one of the party favors. Luckily, my aunt and uncle lived in a home that had been able to accommodate the madness, and though I loved my family, I was thankful to be out of there.

As the ice clinked in the tumbler of whiskey in my hand, I tried to be happy for my cousin, but only Declan and I knew about the bet that we'd made, and even though I knew that Declan would never hold me to it, I was a man of my word, so I felt the noose of that bet tightening unavoidably around my neck with each passing moment.

The problem was that no one would be on my side if the truth ever came out. The Irish were a family-oriented bunch, and with Declan now married, that left me as the last single man standing, and it was only a matter of time before my mam started trying to set me up with her friends' daughters.

Now, while I had nothing against marriage or children, I had a depersonalization or derealization issue with my personality. Though I wasn't the sociopath that lots of people accused me of being, I didn't identify well with other people's emotional states or troubles. Unless it had to do with my family, very little impacted me, and when normal people would get upset or angry at a situation, I saw the humor or hopelessness in it, not really caring one way or the other. I supposed that was why it was so easy for me to torture people, because their cries really did fall on deaf ears when I was in the room.

Of course, there was no doubt in my mind that I would love my children, as evident from how I felt about my family, but a wife was a different story. Without love in the picture, would I even be able to care about her mental or emotional wellbeing? Without love in the picture, there was no doubt that I'd make a terrible husband, and since I wasn't sure if I even knew how to love someone that wasn't blood, I couldn't see myself loving my future wife. Yeah, I'd honor her and not be an asshole, but women needed more than that to feel fulfilled, and I wasn't the best candidate for that.

Nevertheless, I'd given my word.

As I finished off my whiskey, I wondered who I'd even choose as an option. While I had no doubt that lots of women would love to marry my last name, this was a person that I was going to be saddled with for the rest of my life, and that didn't sound appealing at all. If she didn't have a job or a life, she'd be a clinging mess, and no one needed that shit. I had a job that was unpredictable, and the hours could have me missing for days on end. So, the last thing that I needed was a harpy blowing up my phone because she was bored or needed some attention.

Turning away from the window, I walked back to the bar, then poured myself another drink. Even though I had a million other things to deal with, my mam giving me the stink-eye at Declan's nuptials was still playing in my mind. I was thirty-four, the eldest of three, and in my mam's eyes, I should have five kids by now, preferably all by the same woman. While she didn't bat an eyelash at all of the other Commandments that I broke often, she felt particularly determined about the sanctity of marriage and family, go figure.

Honestly, I was being a bit of a hypocrite after having lectured Declan about the next generation of O'Briens not too long ago. With the Sartoris getting married and multiplying steadily, we were also obligated to secure our legacy for the future of the organization and every family member in it.

"I'm ready."

I turned to see…Helen? Haley? Hannah?...standing underneath the archway, her blonde hair pinned up high on her head, her hour-glass figure encased in nothing but black lace. Upon leaving Declan's reception, I had stopped by Lir to check on a couple of things, and whatever-her-name-was had been sitting at the bar, wanting to drink her ex-boyfriend away.

My eyes raked her up and down, and I knew that I was going to fuck her in that lingerie. It looked good on her, and the look shouldn't go to waste. Now, while I'd eventually take it off her completely, our first time was going to be with her dressed like the prettiest blonde whore ever.

"If you were ready, then you'd be on your knees for me, sweetheart," I replied, setting my tumbler on the bar.

She immediately lowered onto her knees, and all I could think about as I made my way over to her was how stunning she was going to look with my cum dripping from that pretty face of hers.