Page 5 of My Irish Mafia King

“You’re right,” I reply reluctantly. “We’ll arrive together.”

Mom nods, taking out her phone, shooting off a text. “Ellie’s right,” she says after a pause.

“Huh?”

“About this lucky charm of yours… about Lucy, is it?”

“Lucy, yes,” I reply.

“You could invite her. You don’t have to tell her it’s a family event. Just tell her it’s a part?—”

“No, Mom,” I cut in. “I can’t do that. I can’t lie to her. And I’d rather die than throw her into contact with Uncle Frank… or anybody from this world. Even Colm and Ronan, my friends, men Ilike, I wouldn’t want to meet her. Lucy is special. She’s a civilian. I don’t want any of this to touch her. Ever.”

I stop when I realize I’ve raised my voice.

“Sorry,” I state. “I didn’t mean to shout.”

“It’s okay, Killian.” Mom touches my hand. “You care about her.”

“I don’t know her.”

“I’ve waited a long time for you to find somebody, to find happiness. You can’t expect me to agree with your stance on this.”

“My stance?”

“You claim you can’t date a woman unconnected to our world. But I’ve never seen you so interested in anyone like you are with Lucy. I think you need to think about your own happiness.”

“I love you, Mom, but you’re wrong. I need to think about her safety.”

Later, we’re riding in the limo toward the party. Uncle Frank sits opposite me, his arm around a twenty-something with a glazed look in her eyes. Frank has the same look, and I know they’ve been hitting more than whiskey. He necks neat whiskeys, three in a row, then slaps his hand on his knee. “Won’t you join me, nephew?”

“I might have a drink at the party,” I say.

Frank laughs, squeezing his date to him. “And you haven’t even brought a woman!”

Owen, sitting beside him, couldn’t be more different. Frank is red-faced and large. Owen is an old, slight man who appears more like a doting grandfather than the consigliere of a crime Family. It’s an open secret that, while Frank is Don because he has the Callahan name, Owen Doyle is the man who really runs the Family.

Thankfully, we soon arrive at the party. Mom and Ellie mingle with their society ladies, and I find a corner to hide in with Ronan and Colm. Both men are technically in the Family, we’ve known each other since we were kids, and I’d never question their loyalty. Ronan is thin, with sharp cheekbones and calculating dark brown eyes. Colm is wide-shouldered and has tattoos all over his hands. Something that adds to our closeness is that we all speak Gaelic.

“Your date seems happy,” I comment.

Ronan smiles over at his girlfriend, standing in a circle that includes several society women. “I’m going to ask her to marry me soon.”

“Congratulations.”

“Save that until she says yes.”

“Marriage is a blessing,” Colm says. “Some men expect me to say different after so many years, but I can’t.”

“I suppose you’re going to tell me to hurry and find somebody,” I mutter.

“No, Killian, because we know you already have found somebody,” Ronan says, looking at me calculatingly.

“Leave that alone,” I tell him. “I’ve had enough of that from my mother this morning. I don’t need it from you too.”

He shrugs. “Understood.”

Colm moves closer, lowering his voice. “Killian, there’s something you should know. It might be nothing. There’s no evidence… at least, none I’ve been able to find. But men loyal to Owen have been whispering about it, which makes me believe there might be some truth to the matter.”

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