Chapter 4
Viviana
T he chilly air brushes against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. I glance around the estate’s vast garden, the trees forming dark silhouettes that fade into the night, blurring the boundaries of the property. It feels endless and overwhelming—a place where shadows and secrets hide.
This is my home now, I whisper to myself, the disbelief still sinking in. How did it come to this?
I stare at my hand, the weight of the wedding ring heavier than it should be. The band is simple—white gold with a delicate line of diamonds. It’s elegant, tasteful even, but it feels like it’s burning into my skin.
The engagement ring, which Declan slipped on right after the wedding band, glistens in the low light. Another white gold band, this one with a round diamond. It’s not excessive, more refined than I expected, but there’s no way I’ll be wearing this rock all day. The thought of it feels suffocating.
A rustling sound catches my attention from the left, near a massive stone column. I move closer, curiosity pulling me in, and spot Connor, Declan’s younger brother, leaning against the column with a glass of whisky in hand.
His eyes are closed, his dark golden hair ruffling slightly in the breeze. He looks peaceful, unaware. I wonder if, like Declan, his Irish accent becomes stronger when he’s nervous. Maybe I should test the theory.
“Taking a break, brother-in-law?” I purr, amusement curling in my voice.
Connor flinches, almost spilling his drink, his eyes snapping open. His face flushes bright red as I lean in, catching his gaze darting—desperately trying not to focus on my cleavage. I smirk. Oh, this is going to be fun.
At 24, Connor is nothing like his brothers, or so they say. Shy, reserved, especially around women. I’d always thought it was an exaggeration, but the way his cheeks flame tells me everything I need to know.
I let my body brush against his arm, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath his shirt. He’s nearly as tall as Declan, though less broad, but firm enough that I can feel the strength in him.
“Am I making you uncomfortable, Connor?” I tease, my voice dripping with playful cruelty.
“No,” he snaps back—too quickly. His voice wavers just enough to betray him. He tries to cover it with a snarl, taking a step away from me. “Don’t be playing’ your games, Viviana.”
“You know,” I chuckle, “you are my favourite Callaghan brother.” I watch as his face burns a deeper red.
“Viviana, don’t even try,” he mutters, turning to face me. “You won’t break us, you know that, right?”
“Who said anything about breaking anyone?” I ask, caressing a lock of his hair. This time, he doesn’t flinch. “I just want to get to know all of you,” I say, biting my lip.
“Fuck, Viviana.” He pushes me away and practically bolts inside, not even bothering to answer.
Like Declan, the Irish accent rises when he’s flustered.
Leaning against the cold stone wall, I let out a slow breath. Teasing him is too easy; it’ll be fun to toy with him. He’ll be running for the hills soon enough.
But Kian? He’s another story entirely: smart, ruthless, and too wary to let anyone get close. Still, getting under the skin of one Callaghan is enough for tonight.
And then there’s Declan. The devil himself.
Everyone knows who he really is; we’ve all seen the true extent of his darkness. When his fiancée died, he unleashed hell. This entire city was ripped apart in the chaos that followed, with bodies piling up and blood staining the streets.
The Irish Consortium made its threats, but it was Declan who had the upper hand, torturing anyone who crossed his path or knew something he wanted.
My father lost men in those dark days. Declan suspected they had information and tore through them like they were nothing. No one dared defy him, and for good reason.
Back then, I was already living in my little apartment, trying to stay out of the crossfire. The nights became too dangerous. Men were jittery, fingers twitching on triggers. I’d heard rumours of two men Declan had tortured so brutally that they killed each other in their cell rather than face another day in his grasp.
My heart beats faster as I remember those years. The fear of the Callaghan’s was real, and it still is. But I’ll never show that fear. I can’t. Men like Declan feed on control, on knowing they own you. The moment you let them see your fear, you become dispensable. And I refuse to let that happen.
Not to me.
It’s late. The wedding is still going on, but my mind feels like it’s been run through a grinder. I can’t deal with it anymore.
These Irish fuckers love to drink until they drop, and I have zero patience for it. I want a warm bed and Netflix. Maybe if I slip away to the far end of the garden, near the trees, I can hide until everyone leaves. Then I can finally escape to my bedroom.
Wait, do I even have a bedroom? I’m not sharing one with Declan, right? I’d rather sleep in the damn lake.
I make my way toward the trees, thinking I can steal a few minutes of peace. But before I even reach the shadows, a hand grabs my arm. Not harshly—gently—but firm enough to stop me in my tracks.
“Making a run for it?” The low voice makes me shiver, but I don’t even need to turn to know who it is.
“In a garden with more guards than the White House?” I bite back, my voice thick with challenge. I’m not in the mood for games, but it looks like I’m getting dragged into one anyway.
“You’re known for being a little…” He pauses, stepping closer, his breath warm against my ear, “…reckless, Viviana.”
Shit. Kian. He’s the opposite of Connor; that much is certain. While Connor might flinch at my teasing, Kian leans into it, meeting me head-on. Dangerous. Calculating.
“I might be reckless,” I say with a chuckle, finally turning to face him, “but I’m definitely not stupid, Kian.”
Kian’s eyes gleamed with something between amusement and challenge, his lips curling into that cocky, knowing smirk that could make lesser people uneasy.
But not me. I can hold my own, and I’m not about to let him see even a flicker of fear.
“I’ll give you that,” Kian says, stepping closer until there’s barely an inch between us. “But your little stunt with Declan and the employee wasn’t very smart.”
“Are you sure about that, Kian?” I give him a slow, deliberate once-over, my eyes flicking from his sharp jawline to his broad shoulders before meeting his gaze again. “Because I think it went exactly as I planned.”
“Are you sure about that?” His smirk widens, but his eyes narrow, watching me like a predator studying its prey. “You know he’s going to retaliate.”
I take a step closer, refusing to back down. Our bodies almost brush, the tension crackling between us.
“I don’t care, Kian.” I keep my voice low but steady, my eyes locked on his. “You and your brothers might think you can control everything in your little kingdom, but I’m not some toy you get to play with. I’m here because I must be. That doesn’t mean I’m going to roll over and bend to your feet.”
Kian chuckles a low sound that vibrates in his chest. “That’s the thing with you, Viviana. You think you’re walking in here as an outsider, but whether you like it or not, you’re one of us now. You are the fucking game.”
“Then let’s play it,” I shoot back, my chin lifting defiantly. “And since I’m the game, I’ll make my own rules.”
His expression darkens just a shade, intrigued but cautious like he’s trying to decide whether to push me further or back off.
“Declan might find that amusing for a while. But you’ve seen how he reacts when he’s crossed. You really think you can go toe-to-toe with him and come out unscathed?”
A smirk creeps onto my lips. “I don’t need to come out unscathed. I just need to come out on top.”
Kian’s eyebrows raise, and for a second, I swear I see something close to admiration flash in his eyes. But then it’s gone, replaced by that calculated coldness again.
“Careful, Viviana. You’re walking a thin line.”
“That’s nothing new.”
I step back, turning on my heel with a flourish. My dress swishes against my legs as I start to walk away. But before I take more than a few steps, I glance back over my shoulder, meeting his gaze one more time.
“And in case you’re wondering, Kian, I can carry my own.”
He lets out a low chuckle as I stride away, but I can still feel his eyes on me. I’ve held my own against one Callaghan brother, made another blush like a tomato, and made the third lose his temper over an employee. I shake my head, feeling triumphant. This is going better than I expected.
“Viviana,” Selma calls from the door. “I’m going home. Will you be okay?” Her eyes are full of concern.
“Of course. Don’t worry.” I smile gently and take her hand. “Thank you for being here.”
As I enter the ballroom, almost everyone has left. Even my own family left the party without so much as a goodbye .
I spot Declan and Connor by the door.
“Where is my room?” I ask, my voice cold. I’m tired, I need sleep, and these heels are killing me.
“First floor, second door to the left,” Declan says, deadpan.
Without a word, I take off my shoes and walk up the stairs. The room is massive, with a king-sized dark oak bed draped in white silk sheets. A desk, flat-screen TV, walk-in closet, and en-suite bathroom complete the lavish setup.
Not bad. With some candles, plants, and decorations, I can make this work.
I peel off my dress, finally able to breathe. That damn thing was too tight. Turning on the faucet for the bathtub, I rummage through the drawers to find my bath salts. Sprinkling them into the water, I step in.
Oh God, this feels so good .
I stay there far too long, my skin wrinkling. Finally, I sigh, knowing I have to leave this warm embrace before I fall asleep in it.
Wrapping a towel around myself, water still dripping, I hear a knock on the door.
“Yes?” I try to hide my annoyance. I’ve reached my limit with the Callaghan.
“I have a document for you to sign,” Connor’s voice comes through.
Connor. Interesting.
“Come in,” I say, brushing my wet hair as he enters. Through the mirror, I watch his face immediately flush. His hand clenches around the papers.
Turning slowly, I walk toward him, my eyes locked on his. “What is this?” I point to the papers.
“It’s… it’s…” He clears his throat, his breathing hitching. “It’s the contract. The rules for marriage.”
“Ah, those.” I sign the damn things—essentially a promise not to cheat, run, or kill anyone. Wonder if Declan had to sign something like this.
Connor stands frozen, shoulders tense. As I brush my fingers against him while handing back the papers, his pupils dilate.
“Connor,” Declan’s voice grits from the door. “You’re done here. Get out.”
Connor straightens, blinking as if snapping out of a trance. He turns and exits the room quickly. I can’t help but laugh.
Declan steps in, leaning against the doorframe. He is not wearing a jacket, just a white shirt with sleeves rolled up, revealing tattoos on his arms.
“Is this your plan, firecracker?” he asks, arms crossed, his buttons straining against his muscles.
“My plan?” I slip into a robe over my towel, tying it slowly as I meet his gaze.
“You’re teasing my brothers, flaunting yourself in front of them, just to get a rise out of me?” His dark eyes roam over me, but there’s no desire, just something darker.
“Is it working?” I taunt, smiling.
He closes the distance between us, tilting my chin up with his knuckles so I have no choice but to look at him.
“You’re mine, Viviana. Not Connor’s. Not Kian’s. Mine. And I don’t share.” His voice drops an octave.
“Possessive much?” I deadpan.
“You have no idea, firecracker.” He takes a step back. “This is a fake wedding, a business deal. But you are still my fucking wife, and you will respect me and my brothers.”
Without waiting for a response, he leaves, closing the door behind him.
I launch myself onto the bed, sinking into the soft mattress and silky sheets, my body relaxing for the first time since the gathering.