Chapter 1: Background Information
Little Miss Moira. That's what all of Daddy's boys (and any associates) called me. I hated it. It made me sound like a brat, which I was… At times. Although, when Daddy calls me that, I can't help but smile. I'm a Daddy's girl by heart, and I will do anything to keep him happy and in good health. Even if it means somebody has to die.
Allow me to slow down and tell you some more about my family first. I am Moira Aideen O'Connell, and my father is an Irish mob boss. Some peoples' families run businesses such as hardware stores or bakeries. Crime was our family business, more or less. Unlike an Italian mafia, my father didn't want to bother with calling people capos or soldatos and such. For one, those were Italian terms, not Irish terms. Secondly, everyone knew where they stood in the family, so names would have been unnecessary anyway.
Since I was 13, I had been groomed in the art of business, in finance, investments, law, leadership, and self-defense. Since 16 I was trained to be an assassin. Yes, an assassin. Taught by my mother, also an assassin. Although my parents never required that I study every day, I found a passion in discreet killing. I was the best female assassin in Boston by 19.
Before I took that title, my mother held it. When I say "took the title" I mean it literally. I killed my own mother, gained the title, and not to mention, I spit on her disgusting corpse. I have mommy issues, if that wasn't obvious.
My mother had been absolutely beautiful. Flowing, dark auburn hair, coupled with piercing grey eyes that were framed by naturally long, thick lashes. Her skin had been neither tan, nor milky pale. She was neither skinny, nor fat. She wasn't short, but neither was she tall. My mother was in the middle and her lack of extremes, as far as her body type was concerned, was what drew men to her. Yes, my mother was beautiful. And a whore.
Daddy told me, the day that I turned 18, to watch over my mother while he was away on business. I watched diligently. I watched as not one, not two, not even three… But four men marched into my home, were led to my parents bedroom, and defiled the sanctity of my parents marital bed. Fiery rage burned in my eyes. I couldn't believe that I was the product of an amazing man, and this… This harlot! I had to call my father, and tell him the news…
"Do your job, Little Miss Moira…" was the only thing he whispered into the phone. I did my job. My mother didn't even know who killed her as she lay in my father's bed with yet another man. It was a clean kill, no mess. The paramedics and police were even nice to me, seeing as I had been the one who had called them, crying and screaming about my dead mother… That's how I took the title of best female Bostonian assassin.
As of now, I am 23 years old. In those twenty three years, I had only cut my hair once. That was because at seven, a boy from school put so much gum in my hair, that my mother was forced to cut it. Surprisingly enough, that same boy is now a huge part in my life.
Liam McDermot. His name suits him well. He takes pride in his freedom, and he is also a diligent bodyguard. Yep. Liam, who so many years ago used to hate me, is now working for Daddy as my bodyguard. Of course, he may have hated me because I always made fun of how scrawny he was. Which was not exactly the case now.
Liam had really grown over the past 16 years. He towered over me at 6'4", and he had muscled up, a necessary aspect for intimidating any would-be attackers. Oh, and he has nice eyes. Pretty, grey-green eyes. I'm not one to ogle my father's men, but I'd known Liam for a long time, so it was hard to not notice his good looks…
I hated some aspects of the job. Mainly the aspect where Moira pokes fun at me in front of my own men. But there were some great bonuses to being her personal guard. For one, I got to spend tons of time with my best friend.
I'd known Moira for almost 20 years. I remembered the first time I ever met her. She got me in trouble… I was just your normal nine year-old boy who thought girls had cooties. So you can imagine my horror when this little girl comes over, tells me I'm cute, and tries to kiss me. I utilized the only weapon I had, a wad of gum. I lobbed it into the little girl's hair and ran for my life. I didn't know that she was Mr. O'Connell's daughter. Had I known she was the daughter of my father's boss, I'd have just stuck with the cooties…
Anyway, my name is Liam McDermot. I'm 25, 6'4", 195 pounds, green-grey eyes, sandy-blond hair, can bench 400 pounds easily, and I don't take bullshit from anyone. Except for the O'Connells, that is. I'm constantly around Moira, so I've learned to mainly ignore her jibes. Sometimes I'll pick back at her.
The part that annoys me the most about Moira is how much she flirts... With me. I was told that I should never let my personal life interfere with work and vice versa. Sometimes it's hard to do with someone so beautiful around you constantly. Especially when she plays around and asks why I never watch her model.
Don't get me wrong, I love to watch gorgeous women pose nearly naked as much as the next guy, but I don't want to lose my job or my life, just because I wanted to watch Moira use her long brown hair as a way to cover herself…
A/N: I wanted to point out that I don't know too much about the Irish mob hierarchy, rules, etc. This wasn't meant to be realistic. It's just a story.