Owned By A Sinner: Prologue

25 Years Ago…

Sitting across from Tara, who was just supposed to be another one-night stand, I’m still trying to process the fact that she’s pregnant.

With my kid.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

Rising to my feet, there isn’t much space to move in the studio apartment. I slump back down on the worn sofa.

“Jesus,” I manage to mutter.

“You don’t have to do anything. I just thought you should know.”

Shaking my head, I let my eyes rest on the redhead across from me. The flicker of hope in her soft brown eyes brings a frown to my forehead. “I’m no white knight, lass.”

I’m the furthest thing from.

Tara nervously wets her lips, her eyes darting around the small living space.

Jesus, this is a fucking mess. On the spur of the moment, I admit, “I’m a bad man.”

Tara’s gaze flicks to me, then she asks, “What do you mean?”

Deciding to lay all the cards on the table, I say, “I work for the Irish mafia.”

Her eyes widen, and the hope that’s been flickering on and off dies a sudden death.

Letting out a sigh, I shake my head. “I can help out financially, but my life is no place for a kid… or the likes of you.”

Tara nods, and swallowing hard on the bomb I just dropped on her, she anxiously wipes the palm of her hands on her skirt. “I can tell the child you died.”

My gaze narrows on her as her words hit unexpectedly hard. “No.”

I don’t want my kid thinking I’m dead. I might have done a lot of bad shit in my life, but I’ll never turn my back on a kid, especially one that’s my own.

“Like I said, I’ll help out financially. I’ll check in on you and the kid whenever it’s safe. That’s the best I can do.”

Tara thinks for a while, her eyes focused on the wall of the neighboring apartment block outside the window. “I’ve heard horror stories about the Byrne family floating on the street. I don’t want my child anywhere near the mafia.”

“That we can agree on.”

Her gaze turns back to me. “Maybe we can tell the baby you’re a traveling salesman?”

The corner of my mouth lifts. “Sounds like a plan.” Getting up, I pull my wallet out and remove all the cash I have on me. “I’ll bring more.” I set the money down on the coffee table. Locking eyes with Tara, warning laces my tone as I say, “No one can know who I am. For your safety. Once the kid is born, give them your last name, and don’t go near the Byrnes.”

She nods as she stands up. “I won’t tell a living soul.”

I allow my eyes to drift over the woman responsible for one of the best nights of my life. For a split second, I wish things were different. I wish I had the luxury of getting to know her. Maybe things could work out between us.

But there’s no wishing in the life I’ve chosen for myself. My life and loyalty belong to Owen Byrne, the head of the Irish mafia.

I have to keep Tara and our unborn kid a secret.