Chapter 1

Chapter One

Líadan

Five years later

T oday is my seventeenth birthday, but it's not a day to celebrate. There's something big brewing in the family, and I'm scared that I don't know what it is. When the family goes silent, nothing good can come of it.

Daddy is setting up some kind of party in my honor, and I feel uneasy about it. The maid dropped off a gorgeous red silk dress that looks as if it may be a size too small. There's a plunging neckline, high thigh slit, and I'm not going to be able to sit in it, much less run if things go tits up.

It's not at all like anything I'd remotely wear, and something my father would scoff at as being whore-ish. Nothing about this makes sense. I'm missing a big chunk of information that my father and his cronies are hiding from me.

I can feel the danger in my bones. My middle finger in my left hand is a little crooked, from the last time Uncle Doyle broke it a few months ago, and it never healed quite right. Brendan scowled for months about it, and I heard he racked up quite the kill count while it was healing.

He's the executioner for Daddy, a budding monster to keep people in line.

I guess he's the Boogeyman Daddy spoke about all those years ago.

Regardless, seventeen isn't a big birthday, right? I don't understand why he would be doing this today of all days.

A knock at my bedroom door makes me turn, forcing a smile onto my face.

"Come in," I call out. Daddy gets angry if I'm not the perfect hostess, even if it's my room and I don't want anyone in it.

On the other hand, there aren't many people who knock on this door, either. Daddy is very strict about anyone speaking to me where he can't see. He's full of contradictions, and it's difficult for me to keep up with.

"Hey, Lía," Brendan says, opening the door with a wide grin. "Happy birthday!"

He is the only one who calls me that, and never where my father or anyone else can hear. It's our secret.

My smile becomes more real as I rush over and throw my arms around him. Brendan's arms squeeze me tightly, and it doesn't even hurt because no one has hit me in weeks.

My best friend found me five years ago quiet, scared, and hiding in my closet when he came back from his trip. He refused to leave again for very long, knowing something happened, even though I refused to tell him about it.

My fingers were mostly healed by the time he came back from his trip to Ireland, my ribs were good as new, but there were shadows in my eyes where there weren't before.

Brendan has a special kind of experience with the abuse my father rained down on me, even though I refused to tell him what happened. He recognized the darkness and didn't push. I know it doesn't matter if he's around or not, because Daddy will find a way to hurt me if I'm not the perfect daughter.

The difficult part is figuring out what that means for me, since it changes from day to day.

Be strong, aloof, yet gracious. Don't talk back, daughter. Yet don't take anyone's shit.

"It's just another day," I tease him, breathing in his scent. He smells like gun oil, leather, and sage. "Thank you, though. Do you have any idea what's going on downstairs? I'm currently being a coward and hiding."

"Hey," he murmurs, stepping further into the room and closing the door. My eyes shift furtively toward it, swallowing hard. I trust my best friend implicitly, but if Daddy catches me in a room with a man, any man, he'll flip his shit.

"You're one of the strongest people I know. How many ways do you know how to kill a man now?"

Letting go of him as I step back, I smirk at him.

"Twelve, but I've never actually killed anyone," I remind him. "It doesn't help me to know how to protect myself if doing so will get me killed."

"Is Bruin still bothering you?" he asks, brows furrowing.

Daddy hired a new guard recently. The man is huge, cruel, and the reason I often find new bruises on my skin. Bruin's fingers seem to find the best places to pinch, squeeze, and hurt me whenever I leave my room.

Sometimes, Daddy will ask me to come speak to him, but Bruin will be waiting for me instead. It's so fucked up, but an endless cycle I can't seem to break.

"Yes," I sigh. "Daddy sent a dress up, and it's really revealing. I haven't seen Bruin in two weeks, which is how long it's taken for my bruises to disappear. It makes me think this has been planned."

Brendan grits his teeth together until I swear he's going to break a tooth. His piercing green eyes say everything he wants to but can't. While he's a walking death machine, one wrong move could have me killed or very injured.

My life isn't a fairytale, yet I hold onto what safety I can find, because I know it can always get worse.

"Show me the dress, Lía," he growls.

Rolling my eyes at him, I walk to my closet and open the door. My room is set up for a mafia princess, but it's difficult to enjoy the opulence when I know it's window dressing to cover up how difficult my life is.

Daddy pulled off the white gloves after he found me in his office when I was twelve. I'd never been beaten like that before.

While Brendan can't save me from everything, Daddy has been more careful about how he hurts me, and I've never been caught somewhere I shouldn't be again.

I'm a very fast learner, even when the rules are always shifting.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I tell myself that no matter what is waiting for me, I can handle it. No tears, because they don't deserve them. Taking a breath, I open my eyes and pick up the dress from the hook I left it on.

Turning, I hand it to my best friend, and watch his gaze smolder. I've been in love with him for as long as I can remember. The emotion has simply shifted into something deeper as I grew up.

Brendan, on the other hand, has been girl crazy for a few years, but recently I've had the pleasure of watching his eyelids hood when he looks at me.

It's so fucking hot.

"There's nothing to this dress, Lía," he growls, scowling. "Where the fook is the rest of it, love? There's no goddamn back to it, either."

"That's the million dollar question," I mutter. "I don't know what Daddy was thinking when he had this delivered. I'm not a whore. I've never even?—"

Gulping, I throw my hands up. I'm very sheltered as my father's daughter. I'm a virgin, I've never been on a date, and my first kiss? Nonexistent.

My father calls me a classic, Irish beauty. My long raven black hair is shiny and down my back, I have curves in the perfect places, and I'm a D cup. My skin is clear and pale, and I'm not ignorant of the way the boys in school would look at me.

Daddy tried to starve the curves off my body, but I started passing out at school and the school nurse called him, worried I was anorexic. He pulled me out of school to finish online last year, because he thought I would distract the boys in class and he got tired of answering questions from administration.

Now, if I end up with a black eye, no one cares except Brendan.

"Lía, it's a party, he's not selling your virginity," Brendan snaps, watching my spiral. "Breathe. If you wear your hair down, it'll help with some of the skin the dress exposes. Keep your mouth shut, and please don't piss anyone off. Dad didn't tell me anything about this party. I think he's purposely keeping it from me."

"Is that normal?" I ask. "You're part of the family, and you handle most of their dirty work. I would think you'd know more."

" Milseán , our fathers refuse to tell me anything and you know it," he grumbles, snagging my hand to pull me closer. His arm wraps around my waist the moment he can reach it and I melt against him.

He's my port in the shit show of my life. Ever since he went to Ireland, he started calling me his milseán. I finally looked it up online because he'd never tell me what it meant.

It means sweetheart, and the casual way he uses it makes my stomach clench and flip flop. I try to ignore the butterflies I feel whenever I'm near Brendan, but I think it's a lost cause.

"Maybe so, but I have a really bad feeling about this," I whisper as he kisses my forehead. My skin breaks out in goosebumps at the contact. Our friendship is as platonic on the surface as possible. It has to be with how closely I'm usually watched.

"I'll try to sneak by during it and check on you," he says, rubbing my arm, thinking I'm cold. He doesn't know he's the reason for my goosebumps in my knee-length blue, sleeveless dress.

"Promise?" I ask softly. The dread is moving through my body slowly, making my limbs heavy. My heart begins to pound, as if trying to warn me.

I hear you loud and clear, I just don't know why I'm so afraid.

"Before I go, I have a present for you," Brendan says softly. "You'll have to hide it from your father…"

"I hide a lot of things from Daddy," I remind him, looking up at him.

Tossing the dress onto my bed, he grins as he gazes down at me. "You manage to hide some things better than others," he teases me. "Alright, so I actually have two gifts for you."

Picking up the bag I didn't realize he walked in with, he pulls out a box and hands it to me. Slowly, I open it to see a gorgeous single solitaire floating diamond necklace. The diamond is large enough to be the star of the show and stunning.

"Is this the one I'm hiding?" I breathe, eyes wide. I don't own much jewelry, because Daddy doesn't see a reason for it. My closet has clothing, shoes, makeup, and bags, but for some reason, he draws the line at jewelry.

"It is. I wanted to take you out for your birthday, but your father has other plans I see," he mutters. "The oddest thing is I cleared it with him a few weeks ago. He wouldn't have just forgotten this."

"Sometimes, Daddy will nod at whatever you say to get you out of his face," I mutter. I can't take my eyes off how pretty the necklace is. It's extra special because my best friend gave it to me.

"We'll find a reason for me to wear it."

"Yes we will," he agrees. "The next present you can wear in your hair and will double as a weapon. They're pins to hold your hair back."

Pulling out the second box, I find they're actually thin knives that have been sharpened and disguised as hair pins.

"I can wear my hair half up, half down tonight," I murmur, lips pressed together as I try to imagine what it'll look like. "If this is really some odd set up to hurt me, this won't matter, Brendan. Daddy has been acting so weird, but he's never punished me in front of a large audience before. I don't even know what I could have done to deserve a public punishment."

"Anyone on the outside thinks you're a pampered mafia princess," he says, smirking. "They'd be so wrong though, milseán . If running away wouldn't get us both killed, I'd take you and go."

"I know," I whisper.

"Lía?" he asks hesitantly, glancing at the door nervously. "There's one more thing…"

"What?" I ask, eyes wide as I move to hide my presents away. If he thinks someone is coming, I can't be caught with these.

"Have you ever been kissed before?" Brendan asks. "God, please say no, because I'll have to kill the person who took the privilege of your first kiss from me."

Biting my lip to hide my smile because I love how fierce he sounds, I shake my head. "Never been kissed, Brendan. Why?"

"Because in case you weren't listening, it belongs to me," he growls, backing me into the wall. He has broad shoulders, his black hair is overly long and hanging in his face, and his tattooed arms bulge with muscles as he cages me with his body. Yet, I've never felt more safe in my life.

His face angles slightly as his lips descend on mine. A soft brush of them doesn't feel like enough, making me whimper.

"I wasn't done making you mine yet, milseán ," he whispers, licking my bottom lip to make them part.

Eyes wide, a part of me can't believe this is happening. His hand ghosts down my back to squeeze my hip, and suddenly I begin to feel really warm. His kisses get more and more intense until his tongue swipes along mine. His pelvis is carefully held away from me as he groans softly against my lips.

"You taste incredible," he rumbles softly. "Happy fucking birthday, baby girl. Every day you're alive should be celebrated. The world is brighter because you're here. Call me when you're done with whatever your father has planned, alright?"

Nodding as my chest heaves to regulate my breath, I watch as he rolls his bottom lip under his teeth slowly. Brendan has never looked at me as if he wishes he had the time to strip me naked and explore every inch of me.

I've always wished he'd noticed me, and now it appears as if he's been holding out on me.

"I'm waiting for you to answer me, Lía," he says, amused.

"Oh," I mutter, scrambling to make the two brain cells left in my mind work. I think I'm broken. "Yes, I have my phone. Daddy hasn't taken it from me this week. I'll call you when I'm done with whatever he has planned."

"If you don't, I'm climbing through your window," he growls, making my jaw completely drop. Enjoying my reaction to him, he slowly walks away backwards, then turns to peek outside of the door before he slips away.

It's like he was never here, except he was, and my lips tingle as they remember him. There's also a heaviness in my core, I'm embarrassingly wet, and my heart's still pounding.

"Happy birthday to me," I whisper as I push away from the wall.

No matter what happens tonight, I'll be holding tight to that kiss. It was everything.

Brendan

I feel as if I'm on cloud nine as I sneak down all the service hallways to get to the main floor of the O'Brien home. I've wanted to kiss my best friend for over two years, it just was never the right time.

So instead, every time I felt the overwhelming need to kiss her, tell her my feelings, or make a fool of myself, I went to the sex club to fuck it out with someone else.

I'm not proud of it, but she was fifteen at the time, and I'm two years older than she is. It felt wrong to push my attraction on her. Our world is difficult, dangerous, and not for the faint of heart. I didn't want to lead her down a road she wasn't ready for, especially when Seán O'Brien is capable of killing her if he even heard a whisper that his precious daughter wasn't untouched and pure.

I've heard whispers that he may marry her off soon, and the idea of an arranged marriage for Líadan makes my skin crawl. She is mine, and has been ever since we met as children.

I am her best friend and protector, even though sometimes people keep me from being able to shield her.

"Where are you going?" Bruin grunts as I begin making my way toward the front door. "The boss needs you."

"I wasn't aware he did," I say carefully, rocking back on my heels. I'm wearing a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and jeans, hardly clothes meant to meet the boss with.

"Someone was supposed to text you," he grumbles. "It's a good thing you're here, actually. He has a job for you."

Nodding, I follow him through the monstrously large house as we walk toward his office. I don't doubt Mr. O'Brien has some sort of job for me, because technically, I did ask to take Líadan out on her birthday.

If I'm tasked with a job, then it nullifies the previous agreement. I pay careful attention to the fact that never once does Bruin take me anywhere near where the party is being set up. I promise myself that no matter what, I'm going to come back to the house after the assignment to check on Lía.

I dislike how neither Lía nor I had any idea this party was going to take place.

"Brendan!" Seán booms out as I step into his office. I'm a bit on edge as I greet him, wondering what this all-important job is. "Have you been to see Líadan to wish her a happy birthday, son?"

My lips curve into a smile I don't feel, because I'm not his son. Líadan and I are cousins so far removed it shouldn't even be considered family. We certainly aren't blood related at all. The world gave her to me when she was born. That's all there is to it.

"I was looking for her, but didn't see her in any of the common areas she enjoys," I lie smoothly. I know I wasn't caught by any of the cameras because I know where all of them are, even the newer ones he had installed two days ago.

"Bah, you know her. She probably has her damn nose in a fooking book," he mutters with a shrug. "‘Tis a shame you didn't get to see her, but I have a job for you. I know I said you could take her out for a bit of fun on her birthday. I'm sad to see it canceled. Did she know about your plans?"

The old man is digging, so I shake my head in denial easily. It's almost not a lie, because she didn't know until I told her just a few minutes ago.

"No, Sir. I didn't want to tell her in case plans changed so she wouldn't be disappointed," I explain. I don't speak very often to anyone except Lía. I keep my own counsel, I'm good at my job, and I hate most people.

"Good man," he says, nodding. "I need you to go to the South Shore and pick up a package for me. Take it to the Summer Street warehouse and see how much information you can pull from it about how it spent last night. Someone sent me photos of it speaking to a police officer."

"Are we thinking that he was flipping on us?" I ask.

"Her," he grunts. "She needs to be interrogated, tortured, and then dropped off to your father. We're going to make her disappear while making a bit of money on her. If it helps assuage any concerns, we have pretty substantial evidence that states that she was funneling information to this police officer. A St. Clair."

"I don't have a conscience," I remind him in a dead tone. The only person I care about is upstairs. Everyone else can go to hell in a large, fiery ball.

"This is why you're so valuable," Mr. O'Brien murmurs. "She's a hooker who got sloppy. Do your worst to her, just keep her alive. Understood?"

Struggling not to sigh in front of him, I nod. This is going to take a few hours at least. Fuck me. The warehouses near Garfield Park are an hour drive from here.

"Of course, Sir," I murmur. "I'll make sure it gets handled. Any other instructions?"

"No," he grunts. "Happy interrogating."

The smug bastard grins as if he's the funniest person in the world, but I couldn't give two shits about him. I want to do the job and return to check on my girl. I don't have any remorse when I do these jobs, because I'm incapable of feeling any.

"Thanks, boss," I say, turning away as I walk out of the room. I'm very careful as Bruin leads me out, paying attention to everything as I leave.

Everything about this job stinks like shit and sucks twice as badly.

Please be okay while I'm gone, milseán. You're the only reason my heart beats at all.