Illicit Heir (Paperback)

He won an hour with me from a stupid bet.

We were several shots of whiskey and two pints of Guinness in when Devin suggested we play his game.

That hour turned into the next morning.

Then all hell broke loose.

I ransacked his wallet to find his identification card.

Our bliss disappeared into anger, hate, and accusations.

When he rejected me in that room, he didn't just leave me with a pounding headache and remorse.

He left me with a forever reminder of that night—the mix of two enemy bloods.

And now no one can ever know…including him.

Illicit Heir is book three of Mafia Wars Ireland. It’s a one-night-stand accidental pregnancy, secret baby, forbidden love, enemies to lovers, dark mafia romance.

Devin O'Connor

The ball flies past the goalie, and the pub erupts in ear-shattering noise as everyone jumps into the air. 

It's the All-Ireland Senior Football Championship, one of the biggest sporting events of the year, and I've never seen the pub so packed. Normally, the energy would pump up my adrenaline, even though I'm not a huge fan of the sport.

My brothers and I grew up mostly in New York but spent summers and long periods in Belfast. Our father tried to instill the love of what he calls football—and we still want to call soccer—into our heads…and hearts. Yet none of my brothers are overly enthusiastic about the sport.

Boxing's the thing we love more than anything. We've spent countless hours in the ring, so all of us would rather see a boxing match. Or we'd get more excited about American football or even rugby. At least there's more aggression in those competitions, but when we're in Ireland, there's no choice but to embrace what they call football.

Usually, a few pints of Guinness will get me into the sport, and I'll cheer with the other lads, especially for this big of a game. Yet all I keep thinking is one thought: I'm bored and over Belfast.

I scan the crowd for the hundredth time, and my frustration only grows. There are at least a dozen women I've conquered in this room. Most of them several times, a few only once. Yet not one of them currently does anything for me.

I'm antsy.

I down my Guinness and glance at my brother, Tynan. He scans the room and then meets my gaze.

One thing is clear. He's just as fed up with Belfast and the current selection of lasses as I am.

One of my longtime friends and fellow clansman, Cathal, steps next to me. His eyes buzz with alcohol and the excitement only victory can bring. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, shouting, "Greatest day of the year, mate!"

I scoff, muttering, "Sure it is."

He pins his eyebrows together and leans closer. "Did ya not see that winning shot?"

"Aye. Course I did."

"Then why aren't ya ordering another round?"

Another clansman, Brogan, steps up to the other side of me and hands me another pint. He grins. "The lasses are going to be wild tonight. I'm calling dibs on..." He glances around and then sets his leer on a brunette he often takes home. He eyes her over and declares, "Her."

Tynan groans. "Mate, you're so fucking predictable."

Brogan's grin widens. "Predictable is good when ya got a lass who can do the things she can with her pretty little mouth."

"Here we go again," I mumble, then down half my pint.

"Which one ya taking home tonight?" Cathal questions me.

I study the pub for another moment, then finish my pint. I set the empty glass on the table and shake my head. "No one."

Brogan smirks, leans closer, and taunts, "Is your cock not working? Got issues ya need to discuss?"

"Fuck off!" I scowl.

Brogan, Cathal, and Tynan all chuckle.

I point at my brother. "What are ya laughing at? There are no birds in here you're interested in leaving with tonight either."

Brogan looks at Cathal and states, "Have our O'Connor boys switched sides?"

Tynan slaps him on the side of the head. "Watch your mouth."

"Ouch!" Brogan grunts.

Cathal asks, "What's wrong with you two? The pub's crawling with lasses ready to spread their pretty legs. It'll never be easier than tonight to get what or who ya want."

I cross my arms, sniff hard, and scan the room once more. Then I announce, "I've reached my limit of boredom. I'm heading to Dublin tonight."

Tynan's eyes light up, and his lips twitch in approval. He declares, "Thank fuck. Let's get on the road."

"Dublin? Have ya gone mad?" Cathal accuses.

"Why would ya go to Dublin when ya can get everything ya need right here?" Brogan questions.

I shake my head. "You two need to expand your horizons."

"My lass over there will expand my horizons just fine tonight," Brogan insists, then winks at her.

Tynan groans and scrubs his face. "She'll be here tomorrow too. And the next day. And then the day after that, dumbass."

"Your point?"

"Exactly what Devin said. Ya need to expand your horizons. It sure as hell isn't going to happen here."

Cathal cautions, "Dublin's asking for trouble."

Adrenaline finally pumps through my veins. I can't stop my grin from growing as I affirm, "Exactly."

His eyes darken, turning to slits. "Brody and Alaina won't give us approval to go to Dublin."

"That's why we aren't telling them," Tynan interjects.

Cathal's head jerks backward.

Brogan blurts out, "Have ya both gone mad?"

My brother and I exchange glances as my adrenaline finally kicks into high gear. I nod at everyone's pints, ordering, "Drink up."

"Ya have to be joking," Brogan mutters.

I grab his pint.

"Hey!" he protests.

I down it, set it next to my empty glass, and order, "Grab a couple eight-packs from Sarah, and let's go."

Cathal whines, "If Brody and Alaina find out—"

"They won't. Now, are ya going to be a pussy, or are ya coming along?"

"He'll be a pussy," Tynan jeers.

"You're asking for it," Cathal warns.

"Ya have two minutes to get your asses in the car," I assert and push through the crowd, ignoring everyone. I get to the front door and step out into the brisk air, taking several deep breaths.

My vehicle isn't far since all my brothers and I have designated parking spots. I reach for the door and pause, almost forgetting I'm not in America.

I spin, and before I can ask anything, the parking lot bouncer, Declan, informs me, "No one's been near it."

I nod, then open the door, slide in, and turn on the engine. After a few seconds of quiet, I relax, even though he gave me the all clear. If guys I trust aren't watching my vehicle, I usually take out my special pen that can detect bombs. Even though we haven't had an incident in a while, you can never be sure in Ireland. The O'Learys will do anything to kill us off, just like we'll do the same to them.

Which is why Brody and Alaina will have a fit if they find out we went to Dublin. Plus, our other brother Aidan's also warned Tynan and me several times to stay in Belfast. So he'll be pissed too.

But a man has to do what a man has to do, and I have to get out of here. Besides, we took a lot of O'Learys out when we hunted down Tommy Ahern. Over the last month, we've claimed some of the territories on the outskirts of Dublin, but my brother and Alaina need to be more aggressive. The window to seize the O'Leary territory could close at any time. So, it's time we start taking over whatever we can, and I don't understand why they're not capitalizing faster on our opportunity.

Tynan opens the passenger door and slides in with an eight-pack. Cathal and Brogan get into the back seat, each holding another box of Guinness.

Brogan mutters, "Can't believe ya made me leave my lass."

I reiterate, "She'll still be here tomorrow, so stop your bitching." I reverse out of the spot and pull onto the road.

"How deep into Dublin are we going?" Cathal questions.

I glance at Tynan's mischief-filled grin. I assume it matches mine. My endorphins ignite, and I answer, "Pick a pub in Coolock."

"Coolock? Have ya lost the plot? We only took over the territory north of there!" Brogan points out.

Tynan turns his head, smirking. "Such a pussy."

I add, "It's prime to take over. The O'Learys have no one there, based on all the intel Alaina received."

"But they haven't ordered the clan to move on it," Brogan argues.

"Pussy," Tynan taunts again.

"Shut up," Brogan scolds.

The pop of a Guinness can fills the car and Cathal mumbles, "I need more alcohol for this."

Zings fly down my spine. I veer onto the motorway and head south, finally feeling alive for the first time in months. I demand, "Find a pub, Tynan."

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and several minutes pass. Then he declares, "Got it."

"Where to, little brother?"

He programs an address into the GPS and states, "The Confessional."

Brogan grumbles, "Reconciliation would be a better decision right now."

I snort, claiming, "Oh, we're going to need reconciliation. But not until after tonight."

Tynan chuckles and opens a can of Guinness.

Cathal points out, "There're going to be O'Leary women in that pub. This really isn't a good idea."

Tynan and I exchange another glance. The heat in my blood grows hotter. I state, "Guess it's time."

"Time for what?" Brogan questions.

My brother and I exchange a knowing glance. It's part of the conversation we've had too many times between us to count.

We need to know why our other two brothers couldn't stay away from their O'Leary women. And as far as I'm concerned, tonight's the perfect night to find out. So I answer, "Time to learn what it's like to be inside an O'Leary lass."

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