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The moment he shook hands with Aleksei Popov, the world changed forevermore. He took control of Belfast and Dublin and returned them to their former glory. The fight for power was no more, as no one dared to challenge Punky.
They knew the consequences if they did.
Some have tried, but all have failed because the rightful king sits on the throne. He protects the people, as well as the countries, because he honors the fallen; and there are many.
Before Punky, Belfast was a mess. It was a mess Punky never wanted to clean up. But life has a funny way of steering you in the right direction, even when you veer off course. Punky thought he never had a choice, but the choice was always his.
He thought he wanted to walk away from this world, but the world wouldn’t let him. It never gave up, even when he did.
Punky’s army consists of loyal men and women who would never stray. He looks after them. And they look after him and his family. But most importantly, they look after the kingdom, which they all fight to protect.
Every king needs his queen, and Camilla Kelly has forever been Punky’s queen. She sits by his throne, forever loyal, forever his Babydoll.
Shay has two brothers and one sister, and although his real mum, Aoife, was killed, Cami never once made him feel like anything but her own. He takes the role of big brother very seriously.
“Shay!” shrieks Maya, running toward him as he walks down the corridor.
He bends low to pick her up. “Bout ye, wee dote? Where’s the fire?”
“Benjamin is being a dickhead. He stole my Barbie doll.”
“Maya!” Shay scolds, attempting to hide his smile because hearing a five-year-old curse is fucking hilarious. “What did I tell ya about swearin’? Especially ’bout yer brother.”
She pouts, knowing Shay doesn’t stand a chance. She has him wrapped around her little finger. “Can ya come play outside with me?”
“Maybe later. I’ve got to see Da.”
“Are ya gettin’ the punks again?”
Shay’s mouth falls open before he chuckles. “Who told ya I did that?”
Maya rolls her eyes. “No one told me. But I seen ya practicin’ in the mirror.”
“Practicin’ what?”
Maya puts her fingers together, mimicking a gun, and lowers her voice. “Do ya feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?”
Shay turns a blistering shade of red while Ethan covers his snort behind his hand. “I don’t know what yer talkin’ ’bout. Go play with yer brothers. And be nice.”
He lowers her to the floor, where she takes off into a spirited skip. That wee doll is exactly like her mum.
Ethan doesn’t say a word—for now. But that will change once they’re out tonight meeting with their supplier. Ethan intends to ask Shay to see theDirty Harryimpression for himself.
Even though Punky is the king of this town, Ethan, Cian, and Shay are his right-hand men. Shay is sixteen years old, and although his father wishes he would wait, he knows the choice is Shay’s to make.
Shay is the spit of his dad—in looks as well as character, so Punky knows there is no changing Shay’s mind.
Shay and Ethan knock on Punky’s office door before entering. Alek stands when they enter.
This aul’ fucker is a handsome devil, but Shay’s attention is instantly diverted to his daughter, Irina. She is beyond beautiful. But he doesn’t stare for too long because he knows she will cut out his eyeballs. She scares him more than her Russian drug lord father.
“It’s been a pleasure. As always.” Alek stands, buttoning his jacket.
Irina kisses both of Punky’s cheeks. “Thank you for offering me your home as a place to stay while I study abroad.”
Her smooth Russian accent hits Shay low, but he remains composed as he knows Alek is watching and isn’t afraid to castrate him for looking at his daughter.
“Maybe this isn’t—”
