AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My jaw clenches so hard, it’s a wonder my teeth don’t break. A better man would care that his much younger step-sister had just been used to pay a debt, but that’s not what pisses me off. It’s the fact that Dónal Sheehan lost more of my money to the Donnellys. Whatever pittance my worthless step-Da has left is also my money. Just as soon as I take care of him. He has no idea how many of his men have turned their backs on him. Lost respect for him. Their loyalties have switched to someone who has what it takes to gain control of Dublin. Who doesn’t give a fuck about truces. That someone is me.
I’ve bided my time. Made more and more money, garnered high-powered business associates, and earned the respect—or perhaps, fear—of those who will soon belong to the most powerful organization in the city. The Donnellys have ruled for too long. It’s time fresh blood reigns. I don’t intend on that being Dónal Sheehan, Carrick Donnelly, or any of his sons either.
“Do you think he’ll marry her?”
“Donnelly?” I huff out a breath. “Not a chance. He has no interest in aligning their families. They hate Sheehan nearly as much as I do. My guess is he’ll fuck her a few times and then send her back to her loving Da disgraced. Virginity is a high commodity when it comes to alliances. Although, I’ll never understand why a man would want to deal with an unskilled lover who’ll probably flinch and cry every time he tries to touch them.”
Declan nods. “I assume then that this news doesn’t change your plans in any way?”
“Why would it?”
“Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to. The man who doesn’t care about anyone. Not even an innocent young woman—his sister—who’s done nothing to him.” My cousin sits up and leans back into the couch.
I stare at him, bored with this conversation already. “Nessa Sheehan is not my sister, a fact of which you are well aware. You’re also aware that your continued attempts at being my conscience are pointless. Because you’re right. I don’t care about anyone.”
Declan scoffs. “Not even me.”
“Not even you.”
He stands and studies me. I merely return his stare, not flinching under the disgust he can’t control in his expression. With a small shake of his head, he turns and heads for my office door. He pauses just as he reaches it and glances back at me.
“You know, I used to look up to you when we were growing up. Both Aran and I did.” Declan laughs harshly. “Not anymore though. I’m not sure when you changed, but this new you? I don’t even know who you are. Best of luck with your little coup. I hope it brings you some measure of happiness. Although I’m not sure you even know what that emotion feels like.”
Declan walks out the door, not even bothering to close it behind him. I continue sitting there while his footsteps fade the farther away he gets until, finally, they—and he—are gone. His contempt stings a little. If I did care about anyone, it would be him and his brother. The three of us had been close once. But that time has passed, and the only person I care about is myself.
I unlock the top right desk drawer, open it, pick up the manila envelope lying on top, and set it in front of me. For a second, it remains unopened.
I’ve memorized its contents. Still, I reach inside and flip through each of the photographs.
The subject of them is far more vibrant in person than in this flat, two-dimensional rendering. The purple and teal streaks that add color to her shoulder-length black hair. Those bright blue eyes that sparked annoyance at my intrusion of her personal space this morning and made my cock hard. Still makes it hard. I can’t wait to sink deep inside her cunt. And I will, too. No doubt her eyes will spit more than just irritation. I’m actually looking forward to it.
Setting the pictures down, I glance at the paper with minimal details on it. Imogen Walsh. Twenty-seven years old. Mother: Maire Walsh (deceased). Father: Unknown. An address is also listed. Graduated at the top of her class from University College Dublin with a degree in computer science. Other than that, I haven’t been able to find anything else out about her. Declan isn’t far off, calling her an obsession. From the first moment I laid eyes on her, she’d unknowingly drawn me in. I’ve wanted her ever since. And I always get what I want.
CHAPTER THREE
Imogen
The ear-splitting alarm jolts me awake. I grab my phone from the nightstand and shut it off. Not ready to get up yet, I roll onto my back with my eyes closed. Dreams of Liam Campbell plagued my sleep. Some were terrifying. The majority of them, however, incited a far different reaction. A throbbing heat low in my belly returns as I recall the vivid images of sweat-slicked bodies writhing together. Don’t forget who he is.
He isn’t classically beautiful. In fact, there’s a harshness to his features that some might find unattractive. His skin isn’t smooth and unblemished. It appears rough and rugged beneath the close-cut beard. Still, he is a striking figure with his full lips, piercing blue eyes, thick brows, and overly-long hair that sticks up just the slightest bit in front. Don’t get me started on the way he filled out his jacket. I may not have the best fashion sense, but I can pick out an expensive suit from anywhere. Which makes sense considering who he is.
What did he mean he’d see me again soon? More importantly, how did he know my name? I still can’t figure that out. My second phone rings. It’s the completely secure one I use for business. Liam will have to wait.
“Maddox.” The built-in digitizer disguises my voice from anyone who might be using voice-detection equipment to try and identify me.
“It’s Donnelly. Got a job for you.”
I sit upright on high alert. For nearly ten years I’ve been doing various jobs for Padraig Donnelly. He’s one of my highest paying clients and always hires me for things that utilize some of my best skills. It’s crazy how I didn’t connect his relationship to Carrick Donnelly until five or six years ago. Then again, Padraig does live in Brooklyn.
“What do you need?” I rush across my bedroom and grab my laptop from where I dumped my bag when I got home from the bakery before I crashed.
My fingers fly across my keyboard as he gives me the details of the job. Adrenaline pumps through my veins and wipes away any sleep that still remains. Finally a task worth doing. Not just for the money either. “Give me a couple hours, and I’ll have something for you.”
“Payment is already on its way to your account.”
I end the call and get to work. Out of all the jobs I’ve done for him this is certainly one of the easiest, but still hard enough to let me flex my skills.
Everyone in Dublin is aware of who the Donnellys are. Mostly because they run the largest crime syndicate in the city. They have the Gardaí in their pocket, so the authorities look the other way. They also run the most successful—and exclusive—casino in Dublin. Generally speaking, gambling is illegal. But they’ve gotten around the law through a couple loopholes.
