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The day he was sent to kill her was lucky for both of them.
In the Army they called me the Patron Saint of Death. Now I'm back home in the Irish Mafia, killing whoever they tell me to and screwing whoever I want. The one thing I don't do is care.
I meant to kill Mia quickly, as a mercy ... until she saved my life. She's helpless, naïve, barely more than a kid. I should dump her somewhere and be rid of her.
But she pulls at something deep inside -- a part of me I thought was dead forever. I'm not sure I can let her go. Or if I even want to.
He was meant to be my death. Now he's my life. Without him, I'm lost -- a pawn in an ugly game.
Knowing who he is -- what he is -- doesn't change the way I feel. He draws me like a magnet. I couldn't stay away even if I wanted to.
It's simple, really. I'd rather die at his side than live without him.