{"id":256039,"date":"2026-07-13T14:29:01","date_gmt":"2026-07-13T11:29:01","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/claimed-by-the-irish-mobster-oona-ryda\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T14:29:01","modified_gmt":"2026-07-13T11:29:01","slug":"claimed-by-the-irish-mobster-oona-ryda","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/claimed-by-the-irish-mobster-oona-ryda\/","title":{"rendered":"Claimed By The Irish Mobster – Oona Ryda"},"content":{"rendered":"
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I keep my elbows off the table. I eat slowly. I do everything right and none of it matters, because Kathleen is already loading her ammo for the next round. It happens as Cillian is drawn into a conversation with Declan and Ronan about something involving a shipment and a contact named Brennan. I hear their voices but not the words. My attention is locked on the woman across from me, even though my eyes remain down on my plate.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did your family do, dear?\u201d Kathleen asks, her tone all maternal curiosity. I set my fork down. \u201cMy father worked odd jobs.\u201d \u201cOdd jobs.\u201d She repeats it thoughtfully, as if she\u2019s filing it somewhere. \u201cAnd your mother?\u201d \u201cShe passed away when I was young.\u201d \u201cOh, how difficult.\u201d<\/p>\n

Not a trace of sympathy in it. \u201cSo you were raised largely by the odd-jobs man.\u201d \u201cYes.\u201d \u201cAnd schooling? Where did you attend?\u201d \u201cPublic school. I graduated.\u201d \u201cLocally, I assume.\u201d She takes a sip of wine. \u201cNo university plans?\u201d \u201cI\u2026uh\u2026 it wasn\u2019t feasible. I was working.\u201d Keeping the lights on and trying to keep my father from drinking himself to death, but I don\u2019t say that.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course.\u201d Another thoughtful pause. \u201cAny particular skills? Accomplishments?\u201d I know what she\u2019s doing. She\u2019s not asking questions. She\u2019s drawing a map of everything I\u2019m not, and she wants me to see it clearly. \u201cI\u2019m a hard worker,\u201d I say. \u201cI\u2019m sure you are.\u201d Her smile is immaculate and merciless. \u201cIt must have been exhausting, all that hard work, with no real prospects. And then suddenly\u2014\u201d she gestures vaguely toward Cillian, \u201c\u2014you\u2019re swept up into all of this.\u201d<\/p>\n

My nails press into my palm under the table. Lorcan\u2019s jaw tightens across from me. Ronan\u2019s eyes cut to Kathleen briefly, then away. \u201cI imagine it must feel like a dream come true.\u201d She tilts her head.<\/p>\n

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No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author\u2019s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.<\/p>\n

Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. 1kitap1.com\/en Contents 1. Cillian 2. Nora 3. Cillian 4. Nora 5. Cillian 6. Nora 7. Cillian 8. Nora 9. Nora 10. Cillian 11. Cillian 12. Nora 13. Cillian 14. Nora 15. Cillian 16. Nora 17. Cillian 18. Nora 19.<\/p>\n

Nora Epilogue: Cillian 1kitap1.com\/en Chapter 1 Cillian The place reeks of whiskey and stale cigarette smoke. Seamus Murphy is sweating through his stained shirt as he stammers out the offer that should get him killed on principle alone. \u201cShe\u2019s a good girl, Mr. O\u2019Rourke. Doesn\u2019t complain. Does what she\u2019s told. She\u2019s worth fifty grand, I swear it.\u201d<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t respond. Finn shifts his weight beside me, his hand moving closer to the gun under his jacket. He\u2019s thinking what I\u2019m thinking\u2014the world might be a better place with one less Seamus Murphy in it. The apartment is what I expected\u2014broken furniture, empty bottles scattered across every surface, shut-off and eviction notices piled on the counter.<\/p>\n

But there are other things too\u2014things that don\u2019t fit. A corner of the kitchen looks clean. Dishes are drying in a rack. Laundry is folded in a basket by the couch. Someone is trying to hold this shithole together. \u201cPretty, clean, never been with a man\u2014\u201d Murphy continues. \u201cShut the fuck up.\u201d The words come out flat. Ice-cold. He shuts up. I didn\u2019t come here for this. I came to collect a debt or break some bones. Standard enforcement. Nothing personal. Murphy gambled money he didn\u2019t have with people he shouldn\u2019t have crossed, and now he owes.<\/p>\n

Simple. This isn\u2019t simple. A door opens down the hall.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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