Filthy Rich (The Five Points' Mob Collection, #2)

by Serena Akeroyd

She was mine to protect, mine to defend, just fucking mine. Unlike every other aspect of my life, I wouldn’t have to share her.

She belonged to me, and Eoghan O’Donnelly protected what belonged to him. That was a fucking fact.

“Your vows don’t mean a thing to me. I’m not Catholic. I’m Orthodox. So I’m going to make a vow you’ll understand.” His eyes narrowed. “Blood?”

“Little arsonist,”

Falling, like someone with Stockholm syndrome, for the man who held my reins.

A psychotic love.