Page 4 of It Was Always You

“Calm down, Cora. You’re safe with us, I promise.” A young guy with more tattoos than visible skin, spiky bleach-blonde hair and kind eyes stares down at me. As hot as he may be, the stranger danger alarm rings loud and clear in my already pounding head.

“I’m sorry, but considering I don’t know who the hell you are, your promise means fuck all.” I blurt out, fully aware of the risk of provoking three men who clearly outweigh and outmuscle me.

The guy sitting in the passenger seat chuckles, then turns to look at me, saying, “Cole thinks everyone is as trusting as him. But he is right; you’re safe with us. Boss would kill us if that wasn’t the case.”

Before I can pry further, the car stops outside what has to be the fanciest apartment building I’ve ever seen—from the fountain in the middle of the circular drop-off point to the valet guy chatting with the doorman. Both men are clad in crisp, neatly pressed uniforms that highlight just how grubby mine is.

“Just where the hell have you brought me,” I demand as we exit the car. Under the street lights, their differences are magnified tenfold. Where Cole has bleached hair and tattoos; the passenger guy has a few piercings and a more natural shade of blonde hair that’s shaved on the sides and longer on top; while the driver is the odd one out with his long dark hair tied at the nape of his neck and not a tattoo in sight.

“We figured it would be easier to bring you directly to the boss to get your answers. Plus, Doc can take a quick look at your head to make sure that fucker didn’t hurt you,” Cole answers as he leads me into the building with a hand on my back.

Inside, elegance and opulence drips from the very ceiling of the foyer. From the dark oak reception desk to the shiny grand piano, reflecting the trio of chandeliers above it. People in suits pass us as they go about their business but no one pays us any attention as we make our way to the bank of lifts.

“Any chance I can get some names while we’re doing this whole kidnapping thing? Or is that top-secret information?” I roll my eyes at Cole.

“Cole, stop flirting before you get your ass in trouble. I’m Aidan and the silent-as-fuck grump over there? That’s Liam. We’re all brothers. Happy?” The passenger—Aidan—cuts Cole off as he scans his thumb on a biometric scanner to open one of the lifts. Colour me shocked when there’s only one button marked PH.

As we pile in, I snap, “You don’t have to be a dick about it. You’re the one who dragged me here, not the other way around.” The door opens into a posh yet manly looking open plan apartment that could easily fit my apartment in it at least four times. Before I can be nosey, a very handsome man walks into view. His confident stride and tailored three-piece suit ooze power, but his expression softens into a joyful smile as he says,

“Welcome home, Cora.”

Um, say what now?

I shake my head and say, “Hold up a second, what the fuck do you mean by welcome home? I’ve never even met you before.”

“Thank you. If you can ask Doc to come over, that’ll be all for tonight.” He dismisses the guys, and as the ding of the lift registers behind me, he approaches me. “I know a lot has happened tonight and there’s a lot of conversations we need to have, and we will have them soon. But I need you to know you’re safe here, Cora. No harm will come to you.”

He stands before me, his expression earnest and open, as he places a hand on my shoulder. I study his appearance—his dark hair slicked back, his strong features momentarily softened by the sincerity in his blue eyes. My gut screams at me that he’s being honest. His features, however, are strangely familiar, especially his eyes.

“A top tip: if you want someone to trust you, an introduction rather than an ambush might be the place to start.”

With a laugh, he leads me over to a huge L-shaped black suede sofa that looks so soft and cosy I could easily curl up with a good book for hours here. As I sit down, he walks over to his bar cart and lifts two glasses before saying, “I’m Jonathan. Jonathan O’Neill. What’s your poison?”

“Got any decent vodka over there, Jonathan?” As his name leaves my lips, something clicks in my brain, and I choke out, “You wouldn’t happen to know an Angus, would you? Because if so, he says hello.”

As he pours my vodka and his drink with his back to me, I watch as my words seem to hit him like a physical blow. His entire body stiffens; then he slowly turns to face me, horror overtaking his features. Struggling for breath, he manages to choke out, “What did you just say?”

“The guy who mugged me tonight? He told me to tell Johnny boy that Agnus says hello.” His face changes from shock to anger before he takes a deep breath. Then, his features settle into a mask of calmness. He walks towards me with my drink in hand.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, but you’ll have to excuse me for a moment. There’s someone I need to call so we can get this straightened out.” Squeezing my shoulder again, he heads back into a room, leaving me wondering what the fuck is going on and just what kind of mess have I stumbled headfirst into.

Chapter 3

Nothing good comes from phone calls after midnight, let alone a call from the head of the Irish Mafia at nearly two in the morning. When that involves Jonathan, who’s notorious for keeping his cool regardless of the situation, nearly shouting down the phone - I’m immediately on red alert.

“Owen, get your ass up here immediately, and for the love of God, put a shirt on. It’s a family matter.”

Before I can formulate a sentence, he hangs up on me. The mention of “family matter” puzzles me since Jonathan has no family—unless he counts mine, given my dad is his underboss and they’re practically brothers. But if it were about my dad, surely he’d have just said so.

Confused, I pull on a clean T-shirt and joggers, check the safety on my gun, and grab my wallet, phone and keys. I rush down the hall to the private lift that’ll take me to his penthouse. I was having a fanfuckingtastic dream about the hottest girl I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing finally letting me worship her the way she deserves before he woke me so it takes me a second to process the fact that the drop-dead gorgeous blonde sitting on his sofa is none other than Cora Montgomery.

The woman who has been the star in every dream and fantasy I’ve had since I first saw her ten years ago.

The woman I swore I’d never drag into this fucked-up world that is my life.

The last time I saw her, she was damn near catatonic, thanks to her grief, but even then, I thought she was the most breathtaking thing I’d ever seen. I was so tempted to scrap my plan to protect her, finding the idea of disappearing from her life when she needed stability and comfort the most almost unimaginable. Yet, the looming threat of an all-out war from the clan was too loud to ignore.

So I fell back into the shadows, working my way up the ladder from runner to soldier to enforcer. One day, I’ll take over Dad’s role as underboss, but for now, working as an enforcer and hacking shit for Jonathan on the side is enough. Meanwhile, I stalked her social media accounts and soaked up any titbits of information Abigail would share with me. I even bought her mum’s house via an anonymous bid so that one day, it would be there for her, untouched, exactly as her Mum left it.

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