Dirty Liar: An Irish Mafia Romance

by KB Winters

  For now, home was a Mediterranean villa. Tomorrow, who knew?

  Flynn came up behind me, placing his arms around my waist and kissing the back of my neck. It sent shivers down my spine every bit as much as the first time he’d ever done it. Flynn still wielded enormous power over me—power I was willing to give him. At least in small doses.

  As far as anybody else knew, we were Paul and Lisa Winchester, husband and wife. Our official wedding took place privately, just the two of us, on a bluff overlooking the Mediterranean. We’d gotten married since technically speaking, according to our passports, we were already legally married. But we wanted it to be truly official, so we’d exchanged rings and vows privately in a romantic ceremony overlooking the sea at sunset. It was one of the most romantic days of my life. Something I’d never forget.

  He rubbed my belly as he kissed me, the life inside of me growing every day. When Flynn first said he’d always wanted children, I didn’t believe him. With the life he’d led, who would have thought he’d want a family of his own? I would have thought a wife and children would have cramped the outlaw lifestyle he seemed to enjoy—at least, at one time. But as I was coming to learn, things often changed. And there we were, a few months away from having a son or daughter, and Flynn couldn’t be happier.

  And honestly, neither could I.

  This wasn’t the life I’d dreamed for myself once upon a time, but only because I would have never dared dream of such an amazing future. I’d always wanted to be a cop, to do some good and find answers to those questions that had long plagued me. And now that I had answers, I could move on from that life and into this new one. I could focus on doing what I loved, in peace, with the man I loved against all odds.

  Life was a funny thing. It could also be a son of a bitch. But if you opened yourself up and allowed it to happen, it could also be an exquisitely beautiful thing.

  * * * *

  ~ T H E E N D ~

  I hope you enjoyed my first mafia romance! There will be more to come! I had a blast writing it! Want more sinfully sexy books? Turn the page!

  Sneak Peek

  Dirty Liar Part Two

  An Irish Mafia Romance

  By KB Winters

  Copyright © 2017 BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC

  Published By: BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC

  Chapter One

  Aidan

  “Ya know what I’ve got to ask of ya, brother,” Emmett said, scratching the scraggly beard he'd had for as long as I'd known him. “The brotherhood needs you.”

  We were sitting in my office in downtown Chicago, overlooking Lake Michigan and the city through floor-to-ceiling windows. The view was amazing, one I'd worked hard for. Over the years, I’d carved out a solid reputation as one of the most prestigious defense attorneys in the city—a reputation I feared was always in jeopardy because of my ties to the brotherhood. While I'd been working my way up, I’d felt like I'd been living a double life—thanks to my brother and the syndicate—which, if I were speaking plainly, I would simply call the Irish Mob.

  But now that I had my own law practice, I didn't have to worry so much about who came in and out of my office. Though, I still cringed whenever my brother or one of his thugs came through the door. The only people usually in my office were me and my assistant, but she was a law student herself and had a few morning classes.

  Which meant it was just me and Emmett.

  I sighed, rubbing my temples as I tried to stave off the pain that was coming on. There was a dull throb in my head, threatening to explode. Ever since I’d heard Flynn had allegedly killed Red and skipped town, I figured someone was going to come by. It was inevitable being that I was the only surviving O'Brien left to run the brotherhood—the syndicate my father had started.

  “Flynn will be back, you know,” I said after a few moments. “He won't be gone for long. Once he knows his name has been cleared—”

  “It hasn't been cleared yet—”

  “I understand that, but I know he’ll be cleared, because I know my brother better than anyone else. He's absolutely a lot of things, but he's not a snitch,” I said. “After all, he's the one who made the deal with the Russians in the first place. Why would he blow it like that?”

  Emmett shrugged. “I dunno. I find it hard to believe myself, lad, but that's all we have to go on. What else are we supposed to think?”

  I tapped my fingers on the desk in front of me—it was elegant and had a dark cherry wood finish that complimented the rest of the room and had cost me a pretty penny—and stared over at Emmett. His tired eyes were the same eyes that used to watch my brother and me when we were kids. Besides Red—God rest his soul—Emmett was one of the oldest and most loyal members of the brotherhood. He'd been there in the early days and worked alongside my father, watching me and my brother grow up.

  And now he sat across from me, saying there was nothing he could do to help clear Flynn’s name?

  Bullshit.

  Something had to be done, and I was exactly the right person to see that it was. But it meant wading into waters I had no real interest in wading into. I'd helped my brother and his goons out from time to time—had gotten them off on some lighter charges, had heavier ones reduced—but I'd always done my best to avoid getting myself too deeply entangled with the brotherhood.

  And after years of resisting it, I was now getting pulled right into the middle of it.

  Great. Just fucking great.

  “When Flynn returns—and you better believe he will—we’ll hear his side, clear his name, and allow him to take the reins of the brotherhood once more. Are we clear?”

  Emmett nodded. “I'd love nothing more, Aidan. You brother was a natural leader,” he said. “No offense or anything.”

  “None taken.”

  Yes, Flynn was a natural leader. Always had been. It was one of the reasons the brothers respected him. Or had, anyway. It was his leadership that had taken the brotherhood to new heights. He had it. Charm, charisma and the ruthlessness great leaders had to have. Not that I didn’t have it, but the brotherhood wasn't in my blood the way it was in Flynn's. He'd cared about it from a young age, and all the while, I wanted more. Different. I wanted to be recognized as something more than just a member of one of the most feared families in Chicago. I wanted to make a name for myself in my own way. And I had—as one of the best defense attorneys this side of New York City.

  “But until then, Mr. O’Brien…” Emmett trailed off, expectant of my response.

  “Let the men know they have a leader,” I said with a sigh. “I'll take the reins—at least until Flynn returns.”

  “And if your brother doesn't return?” Emmett asked, his voice low. “It's a possibility we gotta give serious consideration to.”

  At one time, I used to fear this man—broad shoulders, long, raggedy red hair, and hands that could crush the life out of a man in seconds flat. But sitting across from him now, not only did he not scare me—it appeared he might actually fear me. It was a nice reversal of roles. It was also an important one because if I were to lead the syndicate, I needed my men to both fear and respect me, otherwise all hell would break loose. It would be chaos and anarchy.

  “Oh, he’ll return,” I said, narrowing my gaze on Emmett. “He will return, even if I have to find him and drag him back here myself.”

  Emmett nodded, averted his eyes, and didn't say another word. I had to admit, this whole being the one in charge and the one the men looked up to was a little intoxicating.

  “Is there anything else we need to discuss?” I asked, checking my watch. My assistant would be coming in soon, couldn't have her running into the likes of Emmett. Not that she didn't know who I was—who my family was. She did. But she—like many others—thought I kept my distance from them.

  “No, Aidan. Nothing I can think of at the moment,” Emmett said. “Except—well, never mind.”

  “Except what?”

  “Your father—how is he these days?”

 
; I stared out the window and watched as the waves of the lake rolled onto Lakeshore Drive. My father was sitting on death's door and could go at any time. It would be a stupid question, except, of course for one thing.

  “Are you really asking me how he responded to Red's death?”

  “Well—yeah.”

  Red was my father's best friend. Up until he broke into the house and Flynn allegedly took care of the lying back-stabbing scumbag.

  “He's in and out of consciousness,” I said. “I doubt he even remembers Red. Hell, he doesn’t even remember me. Great man, my father was.”

  “Yes, yes he was. If this would’ve happened when he was in charge—”

  “It wouldn't have happened with him in charge,” I scolded.

  Emmett nodded. “Very true.”

  “And take my word for it, Emmett, it will not happen again,” I said. “Not on my watch, you hear? Tell the brothers that when you see them, as well.”

  “Of course, Aidan,” Emmett said.

  Another glance at my Rolex. “If you don't mind, I have some work to do.”

  Emmett took the hint, standing up and walking over to the door. He turned and looked back at me as if he had something more to say after all. He was a big man, and I felt that familiar old feeling of intimidation sweep over me. But I stuffed it down, and even though he towered over me, his hard eyes staring at me from over his shoulder, I lifted my chin defiantly and returned his gaze.

  “Your brother may have been a born leader, Aidan, but I think you're going to do a damn fine job yourself,” he said. “I got a feeling you're gonna clean up the riffraff once and for all.”

  He didn't wait for an answer—not that I had one to give. He stepped out of my office, closing the door softly behind him.

  Emmett might believe in me, but did the other men? I knew I could do the job and do it well. For all of my brother's gifts—he was impulsive. He didn't have the analytical mind I did. And as an attorney, I'd learned patience and honed my ability to play the long game. I may not have his charm or charisma, but I brought a lot to the table.

  I knew I could fill his shoes—in a different way of course, but the question I kept asking myself was—did I really want to?

  That was the question. It seemed like more trouble than it was worth right now—trouble I didn't want—or need. If it wasn't a family affair—and if I wasn't loyal to my family to the bitter end—I’d step aside and let the whole syndicate blow up because of everything that had happened. Because of everything they'd done and stood for.

  But Emmett was right. I could get in there and take out the garbage.

  It was a nice thought, at least.

  ***

  “Mr. O'Brien?”

  “Yes, Maggie,” I said, not looking up from the file in front of me. “Come in.”

  My door opened and my assistant, Maggie Burke, stepped inside.

  “I brought you lunch. Sandwiches from that diner you like down the street. Figured you hadn't stepped out all day—”

  “And you'd be right,” I laughed. I glanced up as she placed the sandwich in front of me. “You never cease to amaze me, Mags. Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

  Maggie's face lit up and her cheeks flushed as I spoke. She was like a little girl on Christmas when I praised her—her admiration for me was all too obvious—but I managed to keep my distance. It was better for her. She was a sweet, innocent girl, and I didn't have it in my heart to dirty her up with the likes of me. Not that it wasn't incredibly difficult. She was sexy as fuck with her long, blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and girl-next-door smile. And today, just like every other day, her skirt was a tad too short, but not so short that it looked slutty. No, just a little too short as if she didn't intentionally mean to show off too much skin. Her flowery skirt and pink button-up top only added to the schoolgirl look. Which, if I didn’t keep my mind on work, would’ve driven me insane. Sometimes I forgot she wasn't a kid but an actual grown woman—a woman in law school nonetheless.

  “Thanks, Mr. O'Brien. I'm always here to help in any way I can.” She bit her lip and gave me what appeared to be bedroom eyes—though that could have just been wishful thinking. I was a man after all.

  Maggie stood there in front of my desk, almost like she wanted to ask me something. Or perhaps she was waiting for me to say something.

  Small talk wasn't my forte by any means—I wasn't exactly a social butterfly—but I tried. “How were your classes today?”

  “They were good,” she said, sounding slightly bored. “I just—well, I don't feel like I get as much from them as I do from working here, you know? It's kind of more beneficial to see these theories applied to real life situations.”

  “Of course, you'll always learn more from working in the field than you will in a classroom. But your classes are very important as well,” I said.

  “I know,” she said with a sigh. “I guess... Well, I guess I could just spend more time here and still get my degree.”

  “In time, Maggie,” I said with a laugh. “Get that degree and after that, I'll put you to work.”

  She grinned from ear-to-ear, as if I'd just made her entire day. Oh sweet Mags. I loved her innocence, and I prayed that this field wouldn't do her in or break her. It had a way of doing that to even the most kindhearted people, those who went into it for all the right reasons.

  Of course, I wasn't one of those people. But I'd met a lot of them on my journey to the top. People who became defense attorneys to help keep the innocent from being thrown into cages unjustly. They all had dreams and ideals about how the law should work. In reality, though, it wasn't anything like you saw on TV. It wasn't some stirring argument or last minute confession that saved you and your client. No, you spent most of your time on a case looking for loopholes and technicalities to keep the guilty from ever seeing a day in prison. Not all my cases were like that—but most.

  But that may have something to do with my clientele.

  Maggie, on the other hand, would have been better suited for family court or something where she might help good, honest hard-working people. Working for me was the last thing she needed.

  And whether she cared to admit it or not, dating me would be even worse for her. She wouldn’t believe it, which was why I had to protect her from herself—and from me and the family.

  * * * *

  Continued in Dirty Liar Part Two! Coming Feb 2017!

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  Acknowledgements

  Thank you! I love you all and th
ank you for making my books a success!! I appreciate each and every one of you.

  Thanks to all of my beta readers, street teamers, ARC readers and Facebook fans. Y’all are THE BEST!

  And a huge very special thanks to my wonderful PA, Silla. Without you, I’d be a *hot mess! I’m still a hot mess, but without your keen sense of organization and skills, I’d be a burny fiery inferno of hot mess!! Thank you!

  And a very special thanks to my editor, who sometimes has to work all through the night! *See HOT MESS above!) Thank you for making my words make sense.

  Copyright © 2016 BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC

  About The Author

  KB Winters has an addiction to caffeine, tattoos and hard-bodied alpha males. The men in her books are very sexy, protective and sometimes bossy, her ladies are…well…bossier!

  Living in sunny Southern California, the embarrassingly hopeless romantic writes every chance she gets!

  You can connect with KB on Facebook and Twitter!

  Or stop by her website at KBWinters.com!