Every Southie in Boston knows that name. The son of a dead mobster. The heart-throb with steel-blue eyes. „The Fixer” who can make or break you in this city.
Oh, and my new husband.
That's me. No one seemed to remember my name up until he barged into my life.
But then he caged me.
And killed every chance I had to run away from the place where we grew up.
Put simply, Troy Brennan clipped my wings.
I have dreams, big ones, but I doubt he'll ever let me chase them. I have no idea why he decided to take me as his wife. But I do know this: pissing off this man will not do me any good. At all.