The day he was sent to kill her was lucky for both of them. 

Lucky:

In the Army they called me the Patron Saint of Death. Now I'm back home in the Irish Mafia, killing whoever they tell me to and screwing whoever I want. The one thing I don't do is care.

I meant to kill Mia quickly, as a mercy ... until she saved my life. She's helpless, naïve, barely more than a kid. I should dump her somewhere and be rid of her.

But she pulls at something deep inside — a part of me I thought was dead forever. I'm not sure I can let her go. Or if I even want to. 

Mia:

He was meant to be my death. Now he's my life. Without him, I'm lost — a pawn in an ugly game.

Knowing who he is — what he is — doesn't change the way I feel. He draws me like a magnet. I couldn't stay away even if I wanted to.

It's simple, really. I'd rather die at his side than live without him.