Read Shane a Dark Mafia Romance by Kiera Silver Free

  Patrick

A Dark Mafia Romance

Kiera Silver

Calamity Jane Publishing

Contents

About This Book

Affiliate 1

Chapter ii

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter v

Chapter six

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Affiliate nine

Affiliate 10

Affiliate xi

Epilogue

Bonus Excerpt: SHANE

Bonus Excerpt: CORMAC

Bonus Excerpt: ALEXEI

Stories Available in the Dark Mafia Series

Also by Kiera Silver

Nigh This Book

Patrick Murphy leads the Irish mafia in his city. He could accept any woman he wants, except the one he's forbidden himself to take—his ward, Lauren. He longs for her and craves her. Until now, he'southward managed to keep her out of his arms by sending her out of the country. Now that she's finished with college and back habitation, his resolve is crumbling. She's adamant to have him, and it's impossible to fight her and himself. If…when…he surrenders, he knows she'll hate him for doing so once she learns his darkest secret.

He killed her father.

This story contains violent and sexual situations that might offend some readers. If you don't enjoy dark romances, this might not exist the volume for you. However, if you savour a possessive Alpha mafia man torn between censor and desire, prepare to meet "Patrick."

Affiliate One

Patrick Murphy had been dreading this day for iv years. Dreading it almost equally much as he was looking forward to it. As the limousine appeared on the long driveway to his home, he walked the remaining marble stairs down to the drive, waiting for the car to describe up before him. He didn't allow the driver time to open up the door when the vehicle came to a end. Instead, he opened it himself and caught his breath the sight of a shapely leg exiting, followed past another, and and so the residual of her.

Lauren stepped out of the back of the vehicle and immediately threw herself into his arms, her long blonde curls wrapping effectually him possessively. He braced himself with a grunt, even as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her closer. He never wanted to let go. With a small-scale sigh, he gently urged her backward when she would have clung to him. "It's good to see yous, Lauren."

She withal wore a large grinning. "I'm so happy to be habitation, Patrick. No more Ireland." She laughed with delight.

In spite of himself, he could feel his lips curving upwardly to a small smile. "That's the mother land, and then testify some respect."

She rolled her beautiful blue eyes at him. "I wouldn't know, since I was cloistered at that all-girls' academy for the last four years. We left the grounds maybe ten times the entire time I was in that location."

He shrugged, deciding not to renew the argument between them about it being for her own safety. What did it matter now, since she had finished at the university and was back in the city? At to the lowest degree until he could find another reason to send her away. The thought ripped through him, making him catch his breath harshly, but he didn't betray the reaction. It had to be washed, and he would just have to make Lauren meet reason. She wouldn't like beingness sent somewhere else again, merely she had to be safety. Prophylactic from enemies, and safe from him.

As she walked into the firm beside him, Lauren put her arm around his waist in a seemingly unconscious gesture of affection. He stiffened, his first impulse to push her away for her own skilful. His second impulse was to pull her closer, take her to the nearest chamber, and ravish her innocent young body. He couldn't do either one, and so he endured with gritted teeth as they strolled through his house, which would be hers for a while once more. Her room waited upstairs merely as she had left information technology, and it was a relief to escort her to her door with the intention of leaving her there.

She looked disappointed. "You lot aren't coming in?"

Into her room, where there was a bed, one that would more than suffice for laying her down and taking her? Hell no, he wasn't coming in. Patrick just shook his head. "I've got some business organization to nourish to, but I'll run across you at dinner." In an attempt to exist paternalistic, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. He was aware of her scowl at the act, but he pretended not to see information technology. "Become settled in, and nosotros'll catch up later."

She nodded, clearly unhappy with the state of affairs, simply deciding non to press him. Perhaps she had grown up in the past 4 years. Perchance she had started to realize he wasn't a replacement father, and it wasn't safety to be effectually him. Not just considering he led the Irish mafia in their city, only also because he wanted her, craved her, and couldn't trust himself around her.

As he walked away from her door, still feeling the phantom weight of her arm effectually his waist, he uttered a soft curse. He'd seen her occasionally over the past four years, nigh recently last Christmas, when he'd flown to Belfast and driven the three hundred kilometers to her university, only he'd hoped his desire had waned since and then. It hadn't, and it was a jolting realization to find he wanted the innocent immature woman as much as he had from the time she was seventeen and came nether his care.

He was merely as determined as ever to protect her from his enemies and himself, but for just a moment, he wished it could be different. As he entered his part, his guards remaining behind on the outside of the door, he reminded himself wishes were useless. It couldn't be different. She was twenty-two to his 40 years old, and she was innocent and sweetness, as yet untainted by the harsher realities of life.

He was a fucking mob boss, for fuck's sake. He was plenty fucking tainted for both of them. His sleeves were stained scarlet from all the claret on his hands, and he had no correct to drag her into his globe.

Nearly of all, she wouldn't want him if she knew the truth, all the truth. He had accepted that long ago. Even if he was willing to overlook the risks to her past claiming her every bit his woman, past interim on the shell that she still seemed to have on him, turning information technology to an adult desire instead, the truth would always remain between them. The truth she didn't know, just would make her detest him.

He had killed her father.

Chapter 2

Lauren'southward room was exactly equally she'd left it, which was slightly embarrassing. She had been 18 the last fourth dimension she'd lived here, and only briefly. With no other family, she had been lucky Patrick Murphy took her in after her father'south decease. She was grateful for that, and she knew she should exist, but it still didn't make her feel amend about the fact he had sent her to boarding schoolhouse to finish high school inside a month of her moving into his house.

Then she'd been back for the summer, earlier he'd sent her away once again, this time to Ireland, of all places, because of concerns that whomever had killed her father might become afterwards her also. Ireland was his dwelling land, albeit several generations removed, and he had a deep fondness for it. She wasn't entirely sure what her heritage was, because she had no idea who her mother was. Her father had been Scotch-Irish, so she supposed Ireland was somewhat her home country. That hadn't kept her from hating every minute of information technology.

Oh, the Catholic academy where he'd stuck her had been beautiful, its campus repose and conducive to education, only it had lacked something vital for her existence. Patrick Murphy himself.

She winced, imagining how he would laugh himself silly if he ever realized the beat she had for him. Trounce was such a tame word, and it barely began to scratch the surface of her feelings. She had taken one look at him the night he had come up to the small apartment she'd shared with her father and broken the news gently that her dad was dead, for her to feel something life-irresolute. It wasn't the start fourth dimension she'd seen Shane over the years, but information technology had been the start time she'd seen him through

a adult female'southward optics.

Non that she'd realized what it was and then, so consumed by grief. It had taken a couple of weeks, long enough for the initial ache of her begetter's passing to settle in like a heavy shroud and go part of her, before she'd realized she felt more than than gratitude for the mysterious man. Information technology was insane, just she had fallen in love with him at the age of seventeen, even knowing he was a mob boss.

She wasn't entirely certain if he knew she knew, but he'd revealed plenty over the years for her to slice information technology together. Even earlier reaching the determination that he was involved in the same shady lifestyle as her male parent, she had known he wasn't an accountant or a doctor, or even a traditional entrepreneur. He'd always had an air of danger around him, a darkness in his inner core that, for some reason, called to the lightness in hers.

She loved making him grin or laugh, since it was something he did infrequently. Seeing his hazel eyes light upwards with entertainment was enough to brand her happy for days. Unfortunately, he wouldn't allow her to spend much time with him. Patrick said it was for her safety, which she understood, only this time, she was home for good regardless of his arguments. She wouldn't allow him to send her away or push her away again.

She had made that resolution to herself on the plane dorsum dwelling house. The terminal 4-and-a-half years had been building to this indicate, and she wasn't going to give in without a fight.

She too wasn't naïve enough to believe there wouldn't be a fight.

Patrick was an honorable man, despite his profession, and she knew once she fabricated her interest plain, he would immediately reject the idea. The historic period departure would give him pause, and and so would the fact he was her father'south contemporary, not hers. Almost of all, she knew he would want to shelter her from the life he led.

It was an admirable goal, but she was prepared to have him, all of him, to have him. He did bad things, but he'd always been good to her. He was a bad man, but he could also be a good man. She'd seen that on every occasion in which they had interacted.

She loved Patrick Potato, and she was going to show him. The time had come to merits her man.

Patrick was already seated at the table when she came in a few minutes tardily for dinner. He had just taken a sip of his wine and nearly choked on information technology when he got a look at the dress she wore. She had certainly gone all out for a uncomplicated meal with him at home. The fuchsia sheath wearing apparel clung to her hips and thighs like a lover, showing equally of her body, or at least every nook and bend. His erect was nigh as tight as his lips when he looked at her, anger warring with desire. "What are you wearing?"

"A dress," she said with a careless shrug as she seated herself, not waiting for him to rise and hold her chair.

"I concede it'south part of a dress, simply where'due south the rest of it?"

With a saucy snap of her napkin, she unfolded and slipped it over her lap, conspicuously planning to ignore his question. "What's for dinner?"

He shrugged, forcing nonchalance he didn't experience. "I recollect Mrs. Quimby made your favorite." He knew for a fact she had, because he had planned the menu with the cook himself.

As though hearing her name had summoned her, the melt wheeled in a cart and distributed their plates, starting commencement with Patrick before moving to Lauren. "Information technology'south skilful to accept y'all dorsum, Miss Lauren." The curt, chubby chef placed the plate earlier her and with lifted the salver with a flourish. "Steak with béarnaise sauce, grilled asparagus, and dill baby potatoes. Is that still your favorite, my honey?"

Lauren nodded eagerly, holding her knife and fork aloft like she was about to dive in. "As ever, Mrs. Quimby. Especially when you make information technology."

She shouldn't have lived with him long plenty for her to have a favorite, having only been in his habitation for a few months total, just she had. And Mrs. Quimby remembered her favorites. He shifted slightly in his seat, uncomfortable by the notion that he remembered them equally well. He remembered far too much about her to be comfortable with information technology.

They ate quietly for the first few minutes, Lauren clearly savoring her steak. The blissful wait on her face made his trousers uncomfortably tight, specially as he imagined her lips wrapped effectually his cock instead of a fork. Would she expect that manner as she sucked him? Would she make those soft sounds of pleasure, and would she swallow his essence the same way she swallowed the steak, clearly enjoying every 2d?

Sternly, he reminded himself he would never find out. After giving her a few minutes to enjoy the steak, he started speaking. "I have news for you."

She paused reluctantly, conspicuously having a difficult time vehement herself away from her meal. "What's that?" She dabbed at her lips with the linen napkin later asking. Lips painted some kind of brilliant fuchsia that only highlighted their plump contours and fabricated him think wicked thoughts.

Realizing she was staring at him expectantly, he cleared his throat and refocused his attention. "I have a friend who works in a magazine in London. Some kind of design magazine, and she would be happy to give you an internship. If all goes well, y'all could exist writing for the magazine within a year or and so."

She tipped her head slightly. "That's a lovely idea, merely no thank yous."

He almost choked on the seize with teeth of steak, forcing information technology down before he spoke. "Alibi me?"

She seemed blithely unaware of the change in his tone. "I said no thank you. I appreciate the opportunity, merely I have no interest in writing for fashion magazines. I'k not fifty-fifty sure I want to exist a author or what else I want to practise. That's why I ended up with a bachelor'southward in general studies, with a minor in art, since I couldn't determine."

He couldn't assist a scowl in her management. "Until you determine, this is a perfect opportunity to explore your options. I've arranged an apartment for y'all, and your ticket is booked." That was all in that location was to say on the matter.

Or maybe not. "No, that won't exist necessary. I'm not interested in leaving home again." She paused to have a long sip of ice water earlier frowning at the glass. "I don't get wine?"

"You're too young."

She laughed softly. "I'chiliad twenty-ii, Patrick. It makes me a grown woman, and I know exactly what I want." In that location was a smoky, sensual tone to her vocalization, and her eyes seemed to be frantically conveying a message to him.

It was a bulletin he was determined to ignore, sure he was imagining at all. Or maybe but praying he was, considering if this attraction was at all reciprocal, he was in big fucking trouble. "Fine. I estimate I forgot your birthday. Exercise you want me to ask Mrs. Quimby to bring you a glass?"

She shook her head. "No, thank you. I actually rarely potable, but I don't appreciate having the choice taken from me." With a slight air of challenge, she leaned forward slightly, though still far abroad due to the spacious expanse of the table. "The same applies to my career and my life choices from this point, Patrick. I appreciate everything you've done for me, but I'thousand not going to be pressured to leave the city once again. I'm going to make my life here."

He frowned. "Why would you give upwardly an internship in London? Information technology's the take chances of a lifetime." It had certainly cost him plenty to brand the possibility available, requiring a complimentary crate of machine guns to a former IRA member, whose girl worked at the magazine. "Information technology's non safe for y'all hither." Hither in his home, and here in the city. She could all the same be a target.

She shook her caput. "Everything I want is right here. I only take to observe a way to get it."

"What if what you want isn't available to y'all, immature lady?"

A slow, sensuous smile curled her lips. "I'thousand adamant to find out for myself, Patrick. Yous should know I'm pretty tenacious when it comes to getting what I desire."

Tiny chaplet of sweat popped out on his brow, and he discreetly dabbed at them with his napkin. He had to be imagining the sexual undertone to her words. He merely had to, because any alternative was unacceptable. He didn't want to have to fight his own urges to possess her if she was offer herself to him on a argent plate. Fuck.

"Yous should brace

yourself for disappointment, daughter. Sometimes, you can't get what y'all desire." He knew that all too well, having forced himself to ship her abroad twice to protect her from him and his raging want for her.

"We'll encounter." She winked at him before returning to her meal, and they ate most of the rest in silence.

After, she stood up and pushed away from the table. "I'll be back late this night, and then don't wait up for me."

He scowled fiercely. "What practice you lot mean, y'all'll be belatedly?"

She sent him an innocent smiling, simply in that location was certainly a hint of wickedness in her gaze. "I have a date this evening. He'll exist here soon."

He could feel his eyebrow creeping high on his brow. "How the hell do you take a date? You lot merely go home."

Her smile brightened. "Oh, I met him on the airplane."

He shook his head. "Your programme to exit with some schmuck you lot just met on a plane? You can't know anything virtually him. No. You can't go."

Lauren crossed the room, pausing virtually where he still sabbatum. She leaned downwardly, her arm going behind his chair, but non actually touching his shoulder or neck. Leaning closer, her lips but a few inches from his ear, she said, "I'm an adult, and I'g going. There's no way you tin can stop me, unless you desire to tie me up?"

He was positive he didn't imagine the gleam of excitement in her gaze when she fabricated the proffer, but he couldn't discern if it was excitement for her forthcoming engagement, or if she was getting off on the idea of him tying her upwardly. He was certainly getting off on the idea, and he had to bunch his napkin in his hands to keep from reaching upwardly to touch on her. "I'm just worried near your safe."

"Give thanks you, and I capeesh information technology." She leaned frontward, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. "You lot're not my father, and I don't demand y'all to act similar one. That's the last matter I want from you, Patrick." Then she spun on her heel and strolled away, looking as carefree as any twenty-two-yr-onetime should.

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