A Pet for the Mafia Dons
Finn sighs loudly and folds his arms, muscles bulging and I quail.
“What is the catch, little lady?” Liam asks deceptively kindly, like a person inquiring about the health of a senile aunt.
“It’s mortgaged,” I say, my eyes drawn to Finn who sits, as he continues to watch me.
*
Liam O’Grady rises to his feet and I catch my breath. He is taller than I had imagined, broad and thick, like a fighter and I remember belatedly, Dad listening to one of his mates talking about the young Irish fighter who killed a man. He is taller than me, but then, at five feet one, I’m hardly one to talk about Tall!
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