All Chapters of Owned By The Irish Mafia Boss : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Elle (16) "Straighten your shoulders, " my mum says, dusting snow from my parka coat. I do as she says, unwilling to meet her gaze, even when she lowers her head to examine my face. "This will be good for you" She says, lips tipping slightly. "Your Uncle Finn is a nice man who was more than willing to let you stay with him despite your constant rebellion." Right. Because that's what I need right now. To stay with an uncle in America, I didn't even know existed until she mentioned him a week ago. My mother straightens, and almost simultaneously, the door swings open. A tall man stands at the other side of the door, sprouting a deep scowl mixed with a confused look, dark brows furrowed on top, tired eyelids. Dark brown strands leap from the top of his head accompanied by greying streaks on either side. He looks nothing like my mother, and if I didn't spend eight hours on the plane listening to her ramble on about the man, I might not have believed they were siblings, or much less re

ElleZoey: *Sends a picture of Elle on the cover of New Wind Magazine* Elle, when was this?Cleo: OMG @Elle is that you?Zoey: Clearly. Unless she has a twin she never told us about.Cleo: You'd better have a good explanation for this, Annabelle.Zoey: When were you going to tell us you got engaged? I thought we were friends.Cleo: Clearly, she doesn’t see us as real friends—because no good friend would let us find out about her engagement from a magazine cover.“Elle?” Ava calls suddenly, ripping my attention from the vibrating device in my hand to the curious look on her face, “Have you been listening to anything I said?”I drop my gaze to the pictures splayed in front of me at the table. "Uhm... no, sorry" I apologise sheepishly. With the events of the weekend officially behind me and the wedding only two weeks away, Ava and I have fully entered into our wedding planning era. Ava more than me.She decided our first meeting would be held at her place since it had a bigger dining

Elle Aaron is gone by the time I wake up which unexpectedly hurts more than I'd like to admit. The bastard didn't even bother to say goodbye nor did he think it necessary to call me to tell me himself. I had to find out from Maureen who insists he went on a business trip but doesn't divulge any information beyond that. I stare at my phone for minutes, annoyance brimming to the surface as I wait for a call, text, maybe even a fucking pigeon. But nothing. I shove my phone back into my bag and jab the unlock button of the car. I tell the driver to pick me up in an hour, and he nods once before kick-starting the engine and driving off. I step inside the café, the bell chimes softly above me as the smell of warm vanilla and freshly baked pastries surrounds me like a hug. A few people litter around the tables, nose either buried in books, laptops or a steaming cup of coffee. I spot my friends easily amongst the quiet chaos, sitting at a booth next to the window, the unmistakable pi

ElleThere's a body next to me.Well, under me.But the technicalities don't matter because someone is in fact breathing next to—under me and loudly might I add."Is this always going to be a thing with you?"My heart drops to my stomach. That voice — smooth, teasing and dangerously familiar — coils around me like smoke.Slowly, I pry my eyes apart, hoping, no—praying that I’m wrong.But I’m not.Because Aaron is lying there, shirtless, one arm propped under his head, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips like he finds my reaction utterly, entirely amusing.Fuck.Fuck.Fuck."There you are."I shut my eyes again and this time I pry myself away from his chest and attempt to roll to the other side of the bed, away from him, but he stops me, wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me back and keeping me locked against him. He leans down and his lips gently brush against the outer shell of my ear.I let out a groan, but it's not from irritation. The hem of my shirt had somehow ridden up

ElleThe bakery looks the same as it did last week. The walls are white with pale pink pastry patterns stamped in rows across them, and the air smells of butter and sugar. Aaron holds the door open for me and I mutter a polite thank you as I step past him. The side of my body grazes his and though it's barely a touch, the contact sends a sudden spark straight up my spine.I tried really hard to focus on anything that wasn't him when we were at the venue but no matter how hard I tried to keep myself busy, my gaze often sought his.The first few times, he'd been completely enraptured in his work to notice, but eventually he did, and when it happened, he'd looked away so sharply the stink still ached an hour later.It was almost like he was avoiding me. Actually, I think he was. He didn't exactly leap for joy when I told him I was coming with him and he hadn't said a word to me during the ride. To be honest, it felt like I wasn't wanted, but I somehow managed to push through the feeling