He saved my life. Then he stole it.
I did everything right.
I stayed sober. I stayed alert. I stayed alive.
And still, the most dangerous man in Chicago chose me.
Cillian O’Connelly swears he rescued me from the Bratva—pulled me out of a nightmare soaked in blood and screams.
Maybe he did.
But men like Cillian don’t save without taking payment.
And he doesn’t want my thanks.
He wants my name.
My body.
My vow.
One minute, I’m a woman with a future—school, friends, freedom—far from the mafia’s rot. The next, I’m forced into a marriage I never agreed to, bound to the Irish devil who’s been watching me for weeks.
I’m not his sweetheart.
I’m his leverage.
Cold-eyed and calculating, Cillian plans wars the way other men plan dates. He cuts down enemies without blinking… then cups my bruised throat like he’s the only one allowed to leave a mark. He promises I’ll never be hurt again—while locking doors, issuing rules, and reminding me I don’t get to leave.
I should hate him.
I do hate him.
For the cage. For the lies. For the way his touch makes me forget every vow I ever made to myself.
Because the worst part isn’t that he’s a monster.
It’s that when danger comes, it’s his arms I run to.
And when he looks at me like I’m his reason to breathe, I start to wonder if I’m becoming something else entirely…
I did everything right.
I stayed sober. I stayed alert. I stayed alive.
And still, the most dangerous man in Chicago chose me.
Cillian O’Connelly swears he rescued me from the Bratva—pulled me out of a nightmare soaked in blood and screams.
Maybe he did.
But men like Cillian don’t save without taking payment.
And he doesn’t want my thanks.
He wants my name.
My body.
My vow.
One minute, I’m a woman with a future—school, friends, freedom—far from the mafia’s rot. The next, I’m forced into a marriage I never agreed to, bound to the Irish devil who’s been watching me for weeks.
I’m not his sweetheart.
I’m his leverage.
Cold-eyed and calculating, Cillian plans wars the way other men plan dates. He cuts down enemies without blinking… then cups my bruised throat like he’s the only one allowed to leave a mark. He promises I’ll never be hurt again—while locking doors, issuing rules, and reminding me I don’t get to leave.
I should hate him.
I do hate him.
For the cage. For the lies. For the way his touch makes me forget every vow I ever made to myself.
Because the worst part isn’t that he’s a monster.
It’s that when danger comes, it’s his arms I run to.
And when he looks at me like I’m his reason to breathe, I start to wonder if I’m becoming something else entirely…