Page 1 of Wicked Oath
CHAPTER1
Olivia
The first time I laid eyes on James Kelly, I was enthralled. A mixture of ruggedness and pure masculine energy, I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist him. His silken hair that fell around his ears and the tattoos covering his arms made me weak.
I’m the good girl of the Irish mob. That’s how I was raised.
But something told me that the minute James walked into my life, I wouldn’t be good for much longer.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
* * *
I’m livingmy normal life, or as normal as one can be when one’s family is the Irish mob of Boston, completely unaware that my life is about to change.
Before James enters my life, before he’s even a thought on my mind, I’m playing the good girl by reading in my room decorated in pastel pinks and whites, the epitome of innocence—as I was raised to be. I’m not one to push boundaries. Much.
A knock on my window makes me glance over. The face of my best friend, Lucy Kennedy, all blonde hair and blue eyes, shines through. I sigh as I place my book down and go to open the window.
Lucy, unlike me, loves pushing boundaries. She stumbles as she steps into my room, rightening herself after I catch her arms.
“Lucy, you’re not supposed to be here,” I comment, letting her go.
“Well, where else am I supposed to be?” She sits down on my bed, bouncing slightly.
“Nothere. Won’t your parents wonder where you are?” Lucy is a mafia daughter just like me, with her father working for mine. My father, Patrick Donovan, is the head of the Irish mob in these parts of the city. Mafia fathers tend to be overprotective. I know. My father hardly lets me leave my room. I know for a fact that Lucy’s father is just as protective, but Lucy always finds a way to sneak over to my house without a care in the world about getting caught.
“Of course,” she says way too cheerfully for the situation. I’m already an anxious mess, worried we’ll both get in trouble. Our parents have no issue with Lucy and me being best friends. My parents just don’t like how wild Lucy can sometimes be, and her parents don’t like losing track of her, when they notice she’s missing, which is hardly ever. They tend to not notice their daughter too much. They like their daughter seen and not heard and all of that. “But I’ll be back before they even notice I’m gone.”
“Keep your voice down,” I hiss. “I don’t want my parents to come in and find you. Or worse, Owen.”
Lucy perks up. “You mean Owen might find me here? That wouldn’t bother me at all.”
I stare at her. Lucy has been in love with my older brother Owen for years now. I mean, I can’t understand why. Owen is annoying and just as overprotective as our father. He’ll take after our dad once Dad is ready to retire, which I hope is no time soon. Dad dotes on me, whereas Owen … not so much. Mostly, I’m just a thorn in his side when he’s not obsessing about my safety. But for whatever reason, Lucy has a massive crush on him. Owen never even glances her way.
Lucy pouts. “Oh, Olivia, don’t worry so much. You’re always such a worrywart. Learn to relax every once and a while.”
I give her a rueful smile while pushing some strands of my brown hair behind my shoulder. “It would be easier for me to relax if you weren’t always sneaking into my room.”
“You got to live a little, right?”
“Lucy, you’re a bad influence.”
She waves a hand. “Tell that to my dad. He’s always harping about how good girls are never supposed to go out and have fun. Well, I say we should have some fun. Maybe we could go down to—”
“No,” I cut her off. “We’re not goingthere.”
Lucy manages to pout even more. “But it sounds like an adventure.”
“Going to a fighting ring is not an adventure.”
“But Owen likes to go there often.”
I just laugh. “Lucy, why in the world would I want to see my brother fight in the rings?” There’s a well-known underground fighting ring that my father partly owns. Lucy’s right. Owen does like to go there often. But I also know I’m not supposed to know about it. I only found out when I overheard my brother and dad talking about it. I mentioned it to Lucy, and now, all she wants to do is go, mostly to see my brother fight, shirtless. Or at least, that’s how she imagines him, as she’s told me repeatedly.
She opens her mouth, then snaps it shut. “True. But I would still like to go, and I’d like you there. You could cheer your brother on.”
“No. He’d only find us and take us home, getting us both in trouble.”
