All Chapters of Bought By The Irish Mafia Boss: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Cillian I wake up before everyone else. Habit. Years of sleeping with one eye open and a gun within reach don’t disappear just because life suddenly starts looking dangerously close to happiness.The penthouse is quiet when I open my eyes. Soft morning light spills through the massive windows overlooking New York City, painting pale gold across the living room. Bodies are scattered everywhere. Blankets. Pillows. Popcorn on the floor.Ronan is half hanging off the couch with one arm dangling dramatically toward the carpet like he died in battle. Maya is asleep on the other side of the sofa with a blanket wrapped around her like a burrito. Sophia somehow ended up sleeping on the floor despite the existence of several expensive couches, and Liam… I pause.Liam is sitting upright in an armchair. Asleep. Still holding the remote. What the fuck. A rough breath almost escapes me. Closest thing to laughter this early in the morning.Then my attention shifts downward. Elena. Curled against my

Cillian The second Elena walks into the bedroom wearing nothing except my shirt and that ring on her finger, I know I’m losing whatever control I had left. Completely. The city glows outside the penthouse windows, rain tapping softly against the glass while warm light spills across dark sheets and tangled blankets. Home. Christ.I still don’t fully understand how this place became that. Maybe because she’s in it. Elena pauses near the bed, fingers brushing through damp hair after her shower while my shirt hangs loosely off one shoulder, exposing warm skin and fading bruises that still make something murderous twist deep inside my chest. My eyes lock onto them automatically.Always. The marks are lighter now. Barely there compared to before. Still enough to remind me. Still enough to make rage live permanently beneath my skin. Elena notices exactly where I’m looking. “There’s the face.”I lean back slightly against the headboard. “What face.”“The one where you look like you’re planni

Cillian Something feels wrong. I notice it before I even open my eyes. Instinct. The same instinct that kept me alive long before I became the man people fear now. The penthouse is quiet beside me, Elena still asleep against my chest, warm and soft beneath the blankets while early morning light spills across the room. Everything looks peaceful. But my body is already tense. My eyes open slowly. The feeling doesn’t disappear. Danger. Not immediate. Not loud. Worse. Subtle.I stare at the ceiling for a long second while Elena breathes softly against me. Then my phone vibrates on the nightstand. Declan. Of course. I answer quietly without moving too much. “What.”“Elena awake?”My entire body stills. “No.”“Good.”The word lands wrong instantly. I carefully slide out from beneath Elena without waking her fully. She shifts slightly with a sleepy sound, immediately reaching toward where I was.My chest tightens automatically. I lean down and kiss her forehead softly. “Be back in a minute

Declan Queens after midnight feels alive in a different kind of way. Not polished like Manhattan. Not clean. This part of New York City breathes gasoline, money, adrenaline, and bad decisions.Exactly why I like it. Music pounds through the underground garage beneath the abandoned warehouse while crowds gather around rows of expensive sports cars and women dressed like temptation.Engines roar. People scream. Money changes hands. And for the first time in months, life almost feels normal again. Or at least as normal as life gets when your best friend is an Irish mafia king with a pregnant fiancée and enough enemies to start a small war.I lean against my Aston Martin, whiskey in one hand, while some brunette I vaguely recognize from another race runs her fingers slowly down my arm. “You disappeared,” she purrs.“Busy,” I reply, not really interested.“With what?”Murder. Coverups. Weapons. Trauma recovery. The usual. I smile instead. “Work.”She laughs softly like she thinks I’m jokin

MayaMy stomach hasn't stopped twisting since Declan drove away. The crowd around me is screaming. Laughing. Betting. Living. But all I can hear is his voice. "I'll be fine."The arrogant asshole. I should have known better than to try to stop him. Declan Hayes has never listened to anybody. Not me. Not Cillian. Not common sense. Especially not common sense.The memory of his fingers beneath my chin keeps replaying in my head. Soft. Brief. Dangerous. Like touching me was the most natural thing in the world. I hate that my face got hot. I hate that he noticed. And I especially hate that he smiled afterward.Beside me, Viktor remains completely relaxed. One hand in his pocket. The other is holding a glass of whiskey. Watching the race. Watching me. "You lied."I don't look at him. "I've lied about a lot of things. You'll have to be more specific."His mouth twitches. "You care about him."Straight to the point. Of course. I snort. "You got that from a two-minute conversation?""No."His