Unhinged Love

Unhinged Love The Mafia Brotherhood Book Two Elizabeth Knox Whiskey Rebel Contents Trigger Warning Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Epilogue Coming Soon: The Mafia Brotherhood About the Author: Elizabeth About The Author: Whiskey Trigger Warning This book is intended for mature audiences only. If darker books are not for you, please do not move forward. After re-adjusting my trigger warning system, I will not be giving any spoilers. Please understand that this is not your run-of-the-mill romance, and tough subjects will be discussed in this storyline. This story could include things like rape, kidnapping, abuse, domestic violence, drugs, alcohol abuse, and many other potential triggers. Unhinged Love This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to persons, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental. Unhinged Love. Copyright © 2022 by Elizabeth Knox & Whiskey Rebel. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in articles or reviews. For information, contact E. Knox & W. Rebel. Editing: Kim Lubbers, Knox Publishing Proofreading: Beth Hale, Magnolia Author Services Formatting: R. Epperson, Knox Publishing Cover Designer: Charli Childs, Cosmic Letterz Cover Design Created with Vellum Prologue Kiera Two days ago . . . I pick a throw pillow up from the floor and toss it on the sofa. I sink into the soft couch and replay the day in my mind. It’s been long, filled with errands and activities for my daughters. But I wouldn’t change one minute of it. They have adjusted well to their new school since we moved to Dublin. My sleepy head, Una, passed out an hour ago. Fia stayed up late watching a movie and only closed her eyes after the movie ended. With them both asleep, I finally have those few end-of-the-day moments of peace parents cherish. Relaxing on this sofa feels too good. I don’t want to move, but I need to shower and get in bed. I have to get up early to get the girls off to school, go grocery shopping and visit the gun range. I’ve been obsessed with keeping myself and the girls safe since I saw pure hatred and venom in my ex-husband’s eyes. The last time he showed his rage, I thought he was going to kill me. Conor started acting unstable when he was fighting, but it really got bad when he retired from the fighting scene. It didn’t take long for our marriage to go down the drain after he lashed out and put his hands on me. I thought it was misplaced aggression from not having the outlet as a fighter, but the second time it happened, I had to let my marriage go. I refuse to be anyone’s punching bag. Even if it is a man I’ve spent more than a decade with. He’s been calling a lot lately, leaving messages asking me to talk to him. When I flat-out refused to speak with him about any possibility of reconciling, he told me I would regret it. Given that he has put his hands on me before, I don’t take that threat lightly. I’ll be at the gun range at my scheduled time to learn more about protecting myself against my deranged ex. Sitting here isn’t doing what it was supposed to be doing. I’m supposed to relax, not think of the man who broke my heart. I will myself off the sofa and head toward my bedroom, only to be halted by a knock at the door. My instincts go wild. It’s late, and I’m not expecting anyone. I actually don’t know many people in this city. Only one person would have the nerve to show up at my house unannounced at this time of night. Thankfully, he doesn’t know how to find me. I backtrack to the door and peek outside. My heart sinks when I realize it’s Conor. My breathing goes haywire, and I feel like I will hyperventilate. I peel back the curtain just enough to get a good look at him. His plaid shirt is wrinkled and buttoned up wrong. His pants are dirty, and his dusty brown hair is bushy atop his head. His dazed brown eyes pierce into mine. He looks like he’s been through the wringer. “Conor, what are you doing here?” I ask, trying to sound confident and not scared shitless at the sight of him. His eyes narrow on mine, and he grumbles, “Kiera. Let me in.” “No, you shouldn’t be here. I’m calling the police if you don’t leave.” He bites out a grumbling slur, “I don’t give a shit about you calling the police. I’m here to see my fucking daughters. You can’t just leave town with them and expect me to be okay with it. Open this door and bring me my daughters now!” Looking at him, I can’t imagine what possessed me to marry him. He’s such a fucking asshole. Only he would get pissy drunk and come to see his daughters acting and looking like a maniac. Not to mention it’s after ten p.m. on a school night. “They’re asleep, Conor. You need to go home and sleep off whatever you’ve been drinking.” “Open the damn door, Kiera! I want to see my kids. You can’t keep them away from me.” “They’re in bed, Conor. I’m not waking them up to talk to you while you’re like this. Go home.” His aggression makes me nervous. Looking at the glass window makes me even more nervous. I should have gotten a flat with a more secure door. What was I thinking