Page 70 of His Kidnapped Irish Mafia Virgin

But even as the room softened around me, Liam remained at the edge of my every thought. I imagined him moving through the darkness with that same focused determination I’d seen in his eyes before he left. I pictured the weight of his weapon, the tension in his shoulders, and the quiet fury he carried whenever he spoke of Victor Hale and the men protecting him.

I smiled when the others smiled and I laughed when their laughter rose around me, but beneath every moment of lightness was the steady pull of longing.

I missed him. I missed the certainty of his presence, the warmth of his hands, and the way his voice could calm the fear I tried so hard to hide. The house was filled with people who cared for me, yet Liam’s absence left a space that no conversation could fully fill.

Still, I didn’t allow myself to sink into despair. I held onto the laughter in the room and the quiet hope that these small moments of normalcy weren’t temporary illusions. They were proof that life could continue even after darkness, that healing could begin in the middle of fear, and that love could give strength to those who waited for it.

I sat near the window and watched the night sky beyond the glass. I realized loving Liam meant accepting a truth I’d never wanted to face: danger would always be close to him.

He carried responsibility, violence, and sacrifice as naturally as he carried his own name. He walked toward danger with the same steady certainty that had brought him to me when I was trapped and terrified, and no promise I made could change that part of him.

That was the part of him I loved most…and the part that frightened me most. Liam had shown me that love could be a choice freely given, a hand offered without chains attached, a promise to stand beside someone rather than hold them captive.

But loving him meant opening my heart to the possibility of loss. It meant knowing that every time he stepped into danger, a part of me would go with him. I closed my eyes and remembered the way he’d looked at me before leaving.

Come back to me.

The words still echoed inside me. Fear was still there, quiet and persistent, but it no longer controlled me. I didn’t pace the room or let panic consume me.

Instead, I held onto the life Liam and I had begun to build together, the promise of a future we’d chosen in the middle of fear and uncertainty.

I wrapped the blanket tighter around my shoulders and lifted my gaze to the night sky. I was waiting for him; I wasn’t helpless. I had the quiet strength of a woman who knew her love was worth fighting for, and who trusted that when Liam returned, we would face whatever came next together.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Liam

The explosion ripped through the front entrance with enough force to shake the warehouse from its foundations. Steel doors twisted inward, concrete cracked beneath the blast, and a cloud of dust rose into the night as alarms screamed through the building. I moved before the debris had finished falling.

“Go!”

The first assault team went through the opening behind me. Diggs stayed on my right, Michael covered the left, and Paddy directed the second team toward the eastern corridor exactly as we’d planned.

Behind us, more O’Connor men entered in disciplined formation, each one moving to their assigned position. Gunfire erupted almost immediately. The first burst came from the upper walkway overlooking the loading floor. Bullets struck steel beams and shattered windows above us, sending broken glass across the concrete.

“Upper level!” Michael shouted.

“Take it,” I ordered.

Two men peeled away from our formation without hesitation while the rest of us pushed forward. The sound of returning gunfire echoed through the warehouse. Within seconds, the firing from above stopped.

“Walkway secure.”

We kept moving. The warehouse was larger than it had appeared from the outside. Stacks of wooden crates formed narrow lanes between shipping containers, creating dozens of blind corners where armed men could disappear before striking again.

“Clear every corner,” I said. “Nobody moves alone.”

Diggs pointed toward an open loading bay.

“Movement!”

Three armed men rushed from behind a container, weapons raised. They never had the chance to fire.

The O’Connor men answered first, dropping them before they crossed half the distance. Their bodies hit the floor almost in unison.

Nobody stopped to look back. The operation had become exactly what Sean wanted. There was no panic, no shouting over one another, and no wasted movement. Another burst of gunfire echoed from the western side of the building.

“Paddy,” I called into the radio.