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

ElenaEverything feels… heavy. My body. My head. Even my eyes. Like I’m sinking into something soft but suffocating at the same time. Voices move around me, distant at first, blurred together into noise I can’t quite follow. “She’s dehydrated.”“Pulse is weak…”“Get fluids in, careful…”Hands touch me. Gentle. Not rough. Not forcing. And that alone makes something inside me crack. I flinch anyway. Instinct. My eyes snap open. Bright light hits me instantly, making me wince, my heart jumping into my throat before I can stop it.“Easy,” a calm voice says. “You’re safe.”Safe. The word doesn’t make sense at first. Then, the room comes into focus. White walls. Clean. Machines. A bed. I’m lying in it. My arm feels… strange. I turn my head slightly. An IV. My throat tightens.“You’re in the compound,”

ElenaThree days. That’s how long it’s been. Three days since the factory. Three days since the dark, the hunger, the fear that felt like it was going to swallow me whole. Three days since Cillian walked through that door and pulled me out. I haven’t left the compound. Not once. Part of that is them. Doctors. Liam. Cillian. “Rest,” they say. “Recover.” “Stay inside.” But part of it… Is me. Because outside feels different now. Louder. Less safe. Like something could happen at any moment.And here, I know exactly where he is. Always. I sit on one of the outdoor benches in the training yard, the sun warm against my skin, a light breeze brushing against my face. It should feel normal.Peaceful. But instead, I feel… aware. Of everything. Of everyone. Of him. Cillian stands across the yard, surrounded by his men.Commanding them. Controlling everything without even raising his voice. It’s

ElenaI didn’t expect the gun to feel this heavy. It sits in my hands like something alive. Dangerous. Real in a way that nothing else has ever felt before. My fingers tighten slightly around it, unsure, my pulse picking up as I stare down at it.“This isn’t a toy.”Cillian’s voice is low behind me. Close. Too close.I feel him before he even touches me. The heat of his body at my back. The shift in the air. The way everything in me becomes suddenly, painfully aware.“I know,” I murmur.But my voice isn’t steady. Not because of the gun. Because of him.“Do you?” he asks quietly.His hand slides over mine. Slow. Deliberate. Guiding. My breath catches instantly. His fingers adjust my grip, firm but controlled, his touch grounding and overwhelming at the same time.“Keep your wrist locked,” he says near my ear, his voice dropping lower. “If you do

ElenaI stare at myself in the mirror and barely recognize the woman looking back at me. The dress is black. Of course it is. Not soft black. Not simple black. It’s the kind that clings in all the right places and makes me look like I belong somewhere far more expensive than any place I’ve ever set foot in. The fabric hugs my body like it was made for me, sleek and elegant, the slit up one leg just enough to feel dangerous. My hair falls in soft waves over one shoulder, my makeup subtle but sharp enough to make my eyes stand out.I look… different. Not like Elena, who used to run from one job to another, counting tips and making rent by the skin of her teeth. Not like the girl dragged into a car kicking and screaming. Not even like the woman who spent the last few days inside a compound recovering while armed men stood outside every door.I look like someone else. Someone who belongs on the arm of a man lik

CillianBy the time I get back to her, the room has already shifted. Not visibly. Not to anyone who doesn’t know what to look for. The music still plays. Champagne still moves through the crowd. Conversations still hum under the chandeliers like nothing happened. Like a man wasn’t just put down in a bathroom because he made the mistake of putting his hands on what belongs to me.But I know better. Declan knows better. Liam definitely knows better.And Elena feels it too. She’s standing near the back corridor now, Liam half a step behind her, his expression blank in that way that means he’s one wrong breath away from snapping someone’s neck. Elena’s arms are wrapped around herself too tightly, her face pale, her breathing uneven, even though she’s trying like hell to hide it.The second she sees me, something in her eases. Not fully. But enough. I cross the distance between us without slowing and put one hand on her waist, the other cupping the side of her