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    Irish King
    Irish King
    Irish King
    Ebook107 pages2 hours

    Irish King

    By Dahlia Rose

    4.5/5

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Son. Successor. Enforcer. Alone.
    Ian ‘King’ Mordha, son of Collin Mordha, runs one of the biggest crime families in Chicago. If he obeys his father’s wishes and accepts his role, he could lose something he didn’t even know he wanted. One freezing cold night he saved a life and changed his own, but there’s a cost.
    Sunshine. Hope. Enemy. Love?
    Kiya Gunn, sister of a cop, and a teacher at Chicago’s Art School for Disabled Children. She sees behind the mask to who he really is, his strength far outweighs the power of his fists. The gentleness in his heart belies the cruelty associated with his name.
    Family vs Their Rivals with Kiya in the middle.
    With a turf war brewing against their rivals. Can he keep her safe or will he lose the only sunshine in his life? Or worse, will he pay the ultimate price to keep the woman he loves safe?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDahlia Rose
    Release dateMar 1, 2017
    ISBN9781370512225
    Irish King
    Author

    Dahlia Rose

    Dahlia Rose is the best-selling author of contemporary, military and paranormal romance with a hint of Caribbean spice. She was born and raised on a Caribbean island and now currently lives in Charlotte, North Carolina, with her five kids, who she affectionately nicknamed “The Children of the Corn,” and her biggest supporter and longtime love. She has a love of erotica, dark fantasy, sci-fi, and the things that go bump in the night. With over six dozen books published Dahlia has become a reader favorite. Not only because of her writing but her vivacious attitude in talking to her fans online and at various events. Books and writing are her biggest passions, and she hopes to open your imagination to the unknown between the pages of her books. http://hearttoheartwithdahliarose.blogspot.com www.facebook.com/author.dahliarose www.twitter.com/dahliarose1029

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    • 5/5
      This was a great novella. It didn't feel as nothing was missing in this short story. The characters were believable and the dialogue was on point.

    Book preview

    Irish King - Dahlia Rose

    Chapter One

    A cold night, but what could he expect? In Chicago from September to fucking early May, it was either cold or chilly. January was what he liked to call brick ass freezing in the city and he was out in the night; the darkness enveloped him and that was how he liked it. He didn’t need to be seen, not for this. He had to make certain the target was right. A few days’ reconnaissance and then he’d make his move.

    Sometimes he hated his life; most of the time he just accepted this was how it was going to be forever. He didn’t think about a future because, in all honesty, there wasn’t much of one to be had.  He doubted very much he’d see old age and if he did, it would be like how his father lived. There would be guards, secrets, lies, and vengeance keeping him awake all night waiting for the one bullet that would end it all. Or, even better, the one that would have the balls to do it himself with his bare hands. Yeah, that was his life.

    A noise brought his attention back to the present and he looked across the street. It was a woman in a long brown trench coat leaving a small restaurant with friends. It seemed like a fun girls’ night out—they were laughing as they put on gloves and they broke apart after hugs, three going one direction and trench coat girl walking in the other. The street is empty. I don’t understand why women think it’s safe to walk alone at night. The thought filtered through his head as he assessed her, long brown hair in soft waves, her smile bright as she walked. He remembered her laughter, infectious, like you wanted to laugh with her even if you didn’t know what she found funny.

    His attention turned to the two men who stepped out of the alley as she passed by and kept at least six feet behind her. He saw the danger even if she didn’t—the two men already had the area where they would take her picked out. They would have planned this long before the crime. He knew the type because his life was filled with those types. It wasn’t his business, yet he moved away from his position, forgetting his own agenda for a moment to help the woman. He hated anyone who preyed on the innocent, yet it was part of his life. He despised men who targeted women, but yet again, he’d seen it so much he’d learned to look away. Still he shadowed them until she passed another two darkened alleys before one man stepped into the darkness of the third. His partner grabbed the woman and dragged her back, even as she struggled to get the hand from around her waist and off her mouth.

    He moved quickly across the empty street and, without hesitation, followed them into the alley. He wasn’t afraid. They should fear him more than anything and they would be terrified by the time he was done. One had her pressed against the dirty wall and she struggled while the other grabbed her purse, rifling through it. The one that had her against the wall was trying to lift her skirt even with the bulky coat. He said something, whispered in her ear; whatever it was it made her grimace and struggle all the more.

    What did I wander into? he said conversationally.

    The alley ended abruptly because of a wall that loomed up in the darkness. A dim, dirty light bulb did nothing to really illuminate the wall that smelled of piss and old Chinese food.

    Get out of here before you have a smile cut into your neck, the one with the purse snarled the words as he dropped her property and pulled a blade from his pocket.  The other one let her go to help his friend and she scrambled away on the ground.

    I’d like to see you try, he commented mildly.

    The one with the knife rushed him and was deflected like he was nothing. He put the attacker’s head in the wall and that was the end of him as the knife clattered to the ground. He caught the other one by the neck and slammed him against the wall like the man had with the woman in the brown trench moments before. She was standing now looking on in horror.

    He put his lips close to the second attacker’s ear and said in a low voice, Do you know who I am?

    No-no, the attacker’s voice rasped out.

    I’m King. This is my city, my streets, and you should know that. Even with his whisper, his voice held wrath.

    I’m sorry, please don’t kill me, the attacker whimpered.

    Take your friend, who will probably be drooling into a bib, and get gone, King said. If I see you again, you are both dead.

    He dropped the man and he scrambled towards his moaning friend. With strength born of fear he was able to get him up and out of the alley. King watched them leave and then turned back to the woman. His face must have frightened her because she stepped back and almost tripped.

    I won’t hurt you, he tried to gentle his voice. It wasn’t something he was accustomed to.

    Thank you, she said quietly. God knows what would have happened if you hadn’t come by.

    They would’ve raped you, taken your shit, and left you dead, King said. She paled under her brown skin and he felt remorseful. I’m sorry. I’m blunt, I guess.

    I understand. Well anyway, thank you, she said. She moved past him carefully as if expecting him to grab her.

    He followed her onto the sidewalk. I’ll take you home. How far is it?

    I can walk by myself, she said warily.

    ‘That worked really well a few minutes ago, he pointed out and grimaced. Listen, I won’t hurt you. I’ll just see you home and get back to my business."

    She gave a stiff nod. Okay, I guess. She moved and winced. I think I scraped my knee when I fell.

    Do you need to go to the ER? he asked, falling in step beside her.

    No, I don’t. I can take care of it myself, she replied.

    You a nurse? King assessed her. She had to be about five-five but still he had a almost a foot on her height wise. While the coat made her look bigger, he assessed she was curvy but still thin.

    No. She laughed. I was trained but decided to teach instead. My dad is a surgeon. Trust me, I’m probably as good as any licensed nurse.

    I guess a skinned knee is nothing, then. He looked down at her. What’s your name?

    Why?

    He grinned. Since I saved your life back there, I think it’s called courtesy.

    What’s yours? she shot back.

    Ian, King answered easily. There was no need for her to know who he was beyond his first name.

    I’m Kiya. She stopped and held out her hand. Nice to meet you, Ian, and again, thank you for helping me back there.

    He enveloped her hand in his big grasp. You’re welcome. You’re probably going to need to get your coat dry cleaned.

    She laughed. Oh, this is being thrown out and I’m taking the longest, hottest shower possible to get that alley off me. I couldn’t even get to my mace or my alarm in my purse.

    Sneak attack, that’s how those guys do business, Ian commented.

    Are you a cop? Kiya asked.

    He almost laughed in amazement; he was so far from the law that most of the time they were trying to arrest him.

    No, just a good Samaritan, he replied.

    Ian didn’t elaborate even with her curious stare. When women knew who he was, that was it. They were gone unless they liked the danger and those that did were the scarred ones. He wasn’t ever going to see her again and for some reason he still didn’t want her to know the truth.  They walked in silence until they were outside her door. He looked up at the large apartment building as she went up two steps.

    ‘This is me, Kiya said. Again, than—"

    Ian held up his hand. No, don’t thank me again, I’m glad I was just passing by. Stay safe, Kiya.

    You too, Ian.

    He watched until she entered the building and then walked away slowly. A chance meeting with a beautiful woman on a cold winter night. He smiled as he walked down the block. It was back to business and time to put Kiya out of his mind. He had

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