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I was an O’Farrell and for the rest of my life, I’d never love again.
CHAPTERONE
KILLIAN
FIFTEEN YEARS LATER
The mundane thumping of the DJ’s insipid music was drilling through my head as the club pumped. I could think of nothing worse than this drivel they pumped through the club with no lyrics or the same lyrics played over and over and calling it a song but it was popular with the young ones that came here on weeknights and kept my club from falling in the red. I checked my phone again but I hadn’t heard from the one person I’d wanted to hear from. Message after message from women all around town wanting me to end the night in their bed.
But I only wanted one.
Since Sloane had found her way back into my life through her best friend Teeghan, I couldn’t get her off my mind. It was messing with my stamina, and my libido. I got off the chair and leaned on the railing, looking down at the party below. I should be happy my club was doing so well, but it did mean I was here most nights, making sure no one tried anything. After the shoot out at this place months ago, I had been trying desperately to show that this place was a safe haven. I’d tightened security and had more cameras added. Slowly, the people came back. It had only been a matter of time anyway, this was the only club in town worth going to.
I was about to make my way back to my office when I saw a woman sitting at the bar, sipping at her drink. I hadn’t seen her in months and was more than a little surprised she was back here. I made my way down the stairs, pushing through the throng of people to get to the bar. Sidling up to her, I motioned for the bartender to slide a drink my way.
“Amity.”
She turned to look at me, those piercing blue eyes looking straight through me. The last time I’d seen her, she had been crying into my shirt over her dead husband. Whereas hours before I’d given her the grim news, she’d been bouncing up and down on my cock behind his back. Now, it looked like she wanted to murder me.
“Killian.”
“You haven’t been around lately. What brings you by tonight?” I asked her as I sipped at my bourbon.
“I have to have a reason to visit a club?” she asked me as she downed the rest of her cocktail.
“You’ve never been one to come here,” I responded. “You always told me you’d never come here just to see my tight ass.”
She smirked, but it held no humor behind it. Rather, it felt like she had ice running through her veins. It was clear she was still grieving.
“Perhaps I came here to tell you something,” she said, swiveling around to face me. Her dress was low cut, a deep v showed that ample cleavage I knew she had, and the split went all the way up to her pantyline. She came here with a purpose.
I just knew I wasn’t going to like it though.
“And that is?”
She slid off the bar stool and leaned in close. Close enough I could smell her expensive Chanel perfume.
“I’ve come back for revenge,” she said in my ear. “And first up is your little brother Conor. He’s the one who killed my husband. He’s in love now, isn’t he?”
She bit my earlobe and drew her teeth across it before she winked at me and walked away. I was too stunned to move.
A threat on the family is a threat on all of us.
She’d just fired her first shot and now I had to protect my little brother.
Again.
God fucking damn it.
I downed the rest of my drink and moved out of the club and toward the back door. I pulled my phone out and dialed Lorcan.
“What?” he responded, half asleep. I checked my clock and saw it read it was just past 1 in the morning.
Fuck.
“We got a huge fucking problem. I’m coming to the estate.”
“Do you need Conor?” he asked, already sounding more alert than he did two seconds ago.
