The Sons of Munster have been living this life for generations. We have our own protocol, our own traditions, dating back to when two families merged and created our syndicate in Ireland. Now, we have our strongholds in Philly and Chicago, and the wrong man holds the highest position. The day my uncle decided to betray us, he signed his own death warrant, and after a five-year hitch in the can, I’m ready to take everything from him. In order to ensure the demise of his management, I have to get close to him. I need to earn his trust and that of his closest associates. I’ll be the top earner he wants me to be. I’ll be the very image of a conventional family man.
For that to happen, this Irish bastard has to find himself a wife. Someone sweet and compliant who will stand by my side and make me look like I have too much to lose to screw over the head of the family.
When it rains, it pours, so I guess it’s been pouring for eighteen years now. Being from an old mining town that’s full of drunk cautionary tales, I spend my days juggling—and failing—school, work, and paying the bills so my dad can drink himself into a stupor. Then this freaking guy rolls into town in his expensive sports car and thinks I should marry him. This isn’t the fifties, and there isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell I’ll marry a well-known mobster. No matter how much money he promises me. No matter how intensely the chemistry sizzles between us.
He asks for three years of marriage. Then I’d be set for life, independent, and free to start fresh on my own. Free to walk away. Who the hell does he think he is?
My uncle had never deserved to be the boss of the Sons of Munster, and for the longest time I thought that pompous jackass was my worst nightmare. Then Gio Avellino sent a crew to Philly to take down the syndicate I’d just become the unofficial boss of. He’d kidnapped my uncle, put the love of my life in harm’s way, and…he’d murdered my mother.
So yeah, my first year as a married man was off to a rousing start—we were on the run, severely outnumbered, and I still hadn’t told my wife the truth about her own mother and her connection to the Avellino family.
Luck of the Irish? Uh-huh. I was gonna need a lot of that.
Was there such a thing as getting used to being married to a mobster? Finnegan lied and stole for a living, and trust didn’t come easy. If only the bastard hadn’t stolen my damn heart.
After spending the summer in hiding, I was ready to shoulder my role as the new matriarch of the family. Even though my husband’s mother’s shoes were impossible to fill, I would do my best and take on the responsibility with my own little twist. I couldn’t be the mother to everyone, but I could be a Daughter of Munster.
Because though I struggled with some aspects of Finnegan’s lifestyle, this was personal.
This was war.