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Chapter 65 - Elena

Author: Peyton Iuga
last update publish date: 2026-04-24 00:01:05

Elena 

I wake up restless. Not the usual kind. Not the kind that fades after a shower, or a coffee, or pretending everything is fine. This one sits under my skin. Scratching. Pushing. Making the walls feel too close.

I stare at the ceiling for a long second, then turn my head toward the window. The city is already awake. Moving. Living.

And I’m trapped. My jaw tightens. I swing my legs out of bed, running a hand through my hair as I stand. I don’t bother

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  • Bought By The Irish Mafia Boss   Chapter 70 - Cillian

    CillianThe noise doesn’t matter. The screaming. The shattered glass. The chaos is ripping through the restaurant like it’s still alive. None of it matters. Because she’s gone. And someone is still breathing who shouldn’t be. I don’t leave. I don’t chase the exit. I don’t run after ghosts. I turn. Slow. Controlled. Deadly.“There,” Liam says, already dragging a man across the floor by the collar.Blood streaks across the tiles behind him. The man is half-conscious, face already swollen, one eye barely open. Good. Not enough.“Alive?” I ask.“For now.”Ronan appears from the side, cracking his knuckles, jaw tight with barely contained violence.“He’s one of them,” he mutters. “Didn’t make it far.”Perfect. I step closer. The man tries to move. Tries to crawl. Pathetic.

  • Bought By The Irish Mafia Boss   Chapter 69 - Elena

    ElenaSomething feels… off. I don’t know when it starts. Maybe it’s the way the room is too quiet. Or the way everyone is pretending it’s not. Cillian and Kenji Takahashi are talking across from me, voices low, controlled, like every word matters more than it sounds.I try to follow. Numbers. Routes. Something about shipments. But my attention keeps drifting. Not to the conversation. To the room. To the way the staff move. To the way the guards stand just a little too stiff. To the feeling crawling up my spine. I shift slightly in my chair. Cillian notices. Of course he does.His hand brushes my knee under the table. Subtle. Grounding. Stay. I don’t look at him. But I still. Kenji’s gaze flicks to me again. Too observant. Too aware.“You’re distracted,” he says calmly.“I’m listening,&r

  • Bought By The Irish Mafia Boss   Chapter 68 - Elena

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  • Bought By The Irish Mafia Boss   Chapter 67 - Cillian

    CillianThe flowers are already in her room when I find out. Of course they are. Nothing about Kenji Takahashi is accidental. I don’t touch them at first. I just stand there, looking at the arrangement sitting on her table like it belongs in this place. White orchids. Clean. Precise. Expensive. Calculated.Everything about him is.“Who let these in?” I ask, my voice flat.Liam is behind me. “They were delivered through the main desk,” he says. “Cleared as a priority package.”Of course they were. I step closer slowly, my gaze dropping to the card tucked between the stems. I already know it’s from him. I don’t need to read it to know. But I do anyway. “For the woman who doesn’t fear dangerous men”.My jaw tightens. There’s more.“Dinner. Tonight. You and her. Consider it… a continuation of our conv

  • Bought By The Irish Mafia Boss   Chapter 66 - Cillian

    CillianI know something’s wrong the second I walk in. It’s not loud. Not obvious. But the air feels… off. The kind of tension that lingers after something has already happened.Liam is in the main room. Alone. That’s the first problem.“Where is she?” I ask, already moving.“In her room.”That makes me stop. Not because she’s there, but because of how he said it. Too controlled. Too measured.“What happened?”A beat passes, then he speaks, “She was approached.”Everything in me stills. Slowly. Dangerously.“By who?”“A journalist,” Liam says. “Bookstore.”My jaw tightens. Of course, it was the bookstore. Of course, it was the one place she’d feel safe.“What did she say?”“Nothing,” he replies. “

  • Bought By The Irish Mafia Boss   Chapter 65 - Elena

    ElenaI wake up restless. Not the usual kind. Not the kind that fades after a shower, or a coffee, or pretending everything is fine. This one sits under my skin. Scratching. Pushing. Making the walls feel too close.I stare at the ceiling for a long second, then turn my head toward the window. The city is already awake. Moving. Living.And I’m trapped. My jaw tightens. I swing my legs out of bed, running a hand through my hair as I stand. I don’t bother looking for Cillian. He’s either in his office… or already gone.Either way… Same result. I step out into the main space, barefoot, arms crossed loosely over myself, trying to ignore the way the penthouse suddenly feels too quiet. Too controlled. Too his.Liam is already there. Of course he is. Leaning slightly against the wall like he’s been there for hours, watching everything without looking like he is.His eyes lift when I enter. “Morning.

  • Bought By The Irish Mafia Boss   Chapter 17 - Elena

    ElenaI don’t remember walking. I don’t remember leaving the dining room. All I remember is him. His hands. His mouth. The way everything inside me stopped making sense the second he pulled me against him like I belonged there.The world blurs around us as he carries me. My arms are still wrapped a

  • Bought By The Irish Mafia Boss   Chapter 16 - Cillian

    CillianI should stop. That thought is there. Clear. Sharp. Unavoidable. And I ignore it completely.My hand is still wrapped around her neck when she tries to pull away, her breath uneven, her lips still parted from the last kiss, her eyes flashing like she’s trying to gather herself back together

  • Bought By The Irish Mafia Boss   Chapter 14 - Elena

    ElenaMy hands are shaking. I try to steady them before I pick up the phone, but it’s useless. The weight of it sits heavy in my palm, heavier than it should be, like it knows exactly what it means. This isn’t freedom. It’s not even close. It’s just another way he controls me, another thread tied a

  • Bought By The Irish Mafia Boss   Chapter 13 - Elena

    ElenaI shouldn’t be thinking about him.That’s the first thing that runs through my head as I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing, my fingers twisting into the thin fabric of my pajama shorts. The room is quiet again, too quiet, the kind of silence that leaves too much space for thought

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