King of the Cage: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance (Devil’s Own)

Níl aon comhtharlúintí ann, níl ann ach cinniúint

There are no coincidences, only fate

There was something about weddings that made me want to punch someone. Maybe it was having to wear a suit and play nice with half of the most dangerous men on the East Coast, eating shrimp cocktail and pretending that on any other day, we wouldn’t be trying to kill each other.

Or maybe it was because I knew that as the youngest son of renowned Irish mobster, the great Colm O’Connor, one day in the not-too-distant future Da would make sure I was standing at the end of the aisle and not in the crowd. Apparently, it was my duty to make sure the genes were passed down. Considering Killian, my older brother and heir to the family business, was currently incarcerated, it appeared producing little O’Connors would fall to me.

“It’ll be you next, if the boss has anything to say about it,” Declan, my right-hand man — and father’s spy — elbowed me in the side as we watched the dangerous criminals of New York mingle at the bar.

I shot him a dark glare, and the fucker chuckled, cracking his scarred, heavily tattooed knuckles.

“Look on the bright side. Maybe you’ll die first and never make it to the I do.”

My da had been making it known lately that it was time I settled down. He was in the market to find me a bride, and I was seriously considering going to jail again to avoid it. I wasn’t the marrying type.

“Here’s hoping.” I sighed, surveying the crowd. “I should go and pay the family’s respects to De Sanctis.”

The last thing I wanted to do was pay respects to that lot. Lately, there was nothing but bad blood between the O’Connors and the De Sanctis family. O’Connors were Hell’s Kitchen born and bred. It was the basis of our operations in the city and where the entire clan lived. Lately, there had been skirmishes with De Sanctis men over the river. The De Sanctis family owned New Jersey. Increasingly, keeping the Hudson between us wasn’t enough space. Shipments were going missing and men attacked. Of course, O’Connors couldn’t help but retaliate. Right now, it was a blood-soaked game of tit for tat. Renato De Sanctis, the capo dei capi of New Jersey, had invited us to the wedding for two reasons. To show the world that we got along fine, nothing to see here, folks, and also, to remind us of whose dick was bigger.

Declan nodded. “You’d better do it soon. Judging by the stare he’s giving his reluctant bride, I think they’ll leave soon.”

I squinted across the room at the new Mrs. De Sanctis. She was pale and a little dazed. Renato De Sanctis had broken the mold by taking a wife from the real world, and not the fucked-up seedy underbelly the rest of us thrived in. She was pretty enough, in a blanched and ethereal kind of way, but her subtle beauty was overshadowed by the woman sitting next to her.

I stared. I didn’t even try and stop myself. Sure, the Italians were generally a bonny bunch, but the woman beside the bride was really something. It wasn’t just her small and curvy body, waist-length black curls, or dark all-knowing eyes. It was the wicked curve of her smile.

She looked like trouble.

I couldn’t turn away.

“How long do we have to stay?” Quinn, my younger sister, appeared at my side.

At twenty-one, her idea of fun was hanging out with her friends at the shore or going shopping. She’d had no choice about coming, seeing as my father was currently laid up healing from surgery and Killian was in jail. The only other family member, Ronan, was a stepbrother and far too high-and-mighty to lower himself to represent the clan. Ronan was a criminal attorney and a damn good one, working with some of the worst felons the city had ever seen, getting them out of jail time, in return for riches and favors.

Everyone in the O’Connor family had a role, except for me.

The black sheep.

The disappointment.

Da had known it since I was a boy. He’d evaluated my worth early and found it lacking. And since I was to be known as a disappointment, then I’d made it my life’s work to live up to that reputation.

“Just a little longer. We can’t insult the King of Atlantic City,” I murmured back to her, holding the dark eyes of the woman across the crowded room.

I wasn’t hot on my Mafia family trees. I was the fuckup of the family, after all. Tonight, for the first time, I regretted the fact that I’d never paid the slightest bit of attention to the politics and players of the criminal underworld the O’Connors lived in. I had no idea who half the fuckers were at this hotly attended wedding. I knew exactly two members of the De Sanctis Mafia, the boss and his sottocapo. Power-hungry megalomaniacs, the both of them.

Quinn sighed. “Don’t forget you promised I could meet Haley after this. We’re going to a party.”

A party. My little sister had finally reached the age where keeping her at home every single night wasn’t possible. She had friends, a life. God help me if she had a boyfriend, because I hadn’t signed off on that, yet. Luckily, Quinn was trustworthy and knew what was allowed and not. She was a good girl, which, considering who her family was, was a fucking miracle. Every rule that I enforced for the youngest member of the family was for her own protection. Unfortunately, there were a whole lot of dangerous people who’d love to mess with the O’Connors, and Quinn would be the perfect target. If Ronan was the brains of the family, Killian the muscle, and me the disappointment… Quinn was the O’Connors’ beating heart.

“I know. I did. You will,” I said, still eye-fucking the stunning beauty across the room. What was the point of going to a wedding if you didn’t take home a bridesmaid at the end of the night? Absolutely no fucking point at all. Though I couldn’t be sure the pinup across the way was a bridesmaid; she seemed more like a bodyguard, or warden, if the bride really was reluctant. There was a violent edge to her beauty that sucked my attention toward her.

She looked like a right fucking handful, and I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. Gazes stuck to her, male and female alike. She was magnetic like that. I could hear her throaty, dirty laugh across the room as she smiled at the bride. She had to be inner circle. She was either friends with Renato De Sanctis’ new bride, or her babysitter, making sure she didn’t run off. Either way, Renato trusted her, which made her a powerful woman.

“Oh my God, it’s Lucy!” Quinn suddenly exclaimed, peering in the same direction as I was.

“Who?”

“Lucy, my friend from this summer. What a weird coincidence!” Quinn pointed to a girl sitting with the bride and my mystery woman.

I didn’t believe in coincidences, not one bit. I did, however, believe in fate.

“Introduce me,” I ordered my sister.

She didn’t need telling twice.

We were halfway there when someone stepped in front of us, stopping Quinn in her tracks.

“O’Connor, you really didn’t need to show your face. You’ll ruin the wedding photos.”

Elio Santori stood before us. This motherfucker. One of the only two De Sanctis men I knew. Ex-military, Renato De Sanctis’ rabid dog of a sottocapo. He and I had crossed paths more than enough times to hate each other.

“Now, it would be rude to ignore a last-minute invitation to the Mafia wedding of the year. And I know you’d be disappointed not to see me.” I gave Elio a shit-eating smirk.

He stared impassively at me. The man was a brick wall, without emotion. Maybe he was a government-modified cyborg or something, having undergone some kind of experimentation in the military. No one was this impassive. I couldn’t keep a poker face to save my life. We were complete opposites.

“Pay your respects and don’t cause trouble, if you’re capable of it,” Elio said contemptuously.

I chuckled. “You know me too well, Santori. I’ve spent all day thinking how I could piss in your cornflakes. Don’t take away my fun.”

“The last time you had fun, I lost five men,” Elio snapped.

“But did you have fun? That’s the real question.” I grinned at him, knowing I was pushing all his buttons, and wondering how hard I had to push to see this fucker break.

“Bran, this is boring,” Quinn cut in.

I broke my staring contest with Elio to look at her.

“It is, isn’t? Come on, let’s leave my good buddy here to enjoy the stick up his arse alone.” I patted Elio on the shoulder and watched him stride off.

God, I hated that guy.

Quinn took off, and I trailed after her, watching the object of my attraction turn her beautiful face up to stare at my sister when she reached them.

The dark-eyed beauty glanced at me and then away, dismissing me with a haughty glare. She flicked a nifty wee knife between her red-tipped fingers with confidence. A smirk stole across my face. She wanted to play. I switched my attention to the new De Sanctis bride.

“I never thought I’d see the day Ren took a wife, and I definitely never expected it to be someone so young and lovely. I’m Brandon O’Connor, but you can call me Bran.” I shook Charlotte De Sanctis’ hand. “Just blink twice if you need rescuing, gorgeous.”

The bride stared at me, her mouth popping open. It was no secret that Renato De Sanctis was a merciless motherfucker. He’d taken his bride, and it didn’t seem as if she’d had any say in the matter. He’d chosen her, and he’d have her. It was the way of our world. It had been my father’s way, and his father before him. It wouldn’t be mine.

A soft snort pulled my attention from the bride.

“Yes, Charlie, blink twice if you want to be whisked away to Hell’s Kitchen to live with the Irish Mafia instead of Italian.” Even her voice was hot. Deep and tinged with an Italian accent.

I wanted to hear her say my name.

I cut my eyes to her, feasting on the sight. She was even more beautiful up close.

She gave me a saccharine sarcastic smile. “If you want to rescue someone, Irish, try taking someone who won’t bring a war down on your house.”

She knows who I am. That pleased me somehow.

“Like you, sweet cheeks?” I offered.

“You’d never survive me.”

“Sounds like a fun way to go, though, I have to say.” I held my hand out to her. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced, beautiful. I’m Bran. And you are?”

She smirked at me. “Out of your league.”

Just like that, she stood and swept off.

I let her go… for now.