Chapter 27
Viviana
M y hand freezes on my phone as I read the message.
It’s been a long time, Viviana.
I know exactly who this is from. I wasn’t expecting him to contact me directly. I thought my father would tip me off about where his men were, and Declan would handle it from there. But… this is way out of my league.
I knew Aleksandr back in high school. He made it clear he was interested. Hell; he made sure everyone knew it. And even though I told Nolan and John I didn’t give him the time of day, that’s not the whole truth.
We didn’t date, but one night things turned into something I can’t, to this day, explain.
Alek was hard to resist. Dark hair, piercing blue eyes, a body chiselled to perfection, and that dangerous bad-boy aura that made me weak. I was young, reckless, and hopelessly into bad boys. Well, I still am…
It was just one night over a decade ago. And when the Dark Wars between the Russians and the Irish Consortium began, I knew I had to bury it deep. No one knew, and there’s no way in hell I’d ever admit it—not after what Alek’s family did.
I stare at the screen for a long moment before typing a response.
Alek, this is unexpected.
I don’t want to push him away completely, but this is Aleksandr Koslov—a very dangerous man.
Ding.
I wanted to personally thank you for the information. You’re still such a good girl.
Oh, no, he didn’t just go there.
Heading to Declan’s office, I grip my phone so tightly I’m surprised it hasn’t shattered. Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door. How the hell am I going to explain this to someone as possessive as Declan Callaghan?
“Come in,” he says, his voice firm, too firm, which means he isn’t alone. I hear chairs shifting inside, and when I step in, I freeze. Connor’s here. Flynn, too. Great. Why the hell are they all here?
“Everything okay, Viv?” Declan’s eyebrow arches, but his jaw tightens as his sharp eyes lock onto mine.
“There’s been… a development,” I manage, trying to sound composed, though inside, my nerves are a storm about to erupt. I hand him my phone. He grabs it, and as he reads it, his face goes cold, like ice. His knuckles whiten as his grip tightens around the device. Then he lifts his eyes to mine, colder than I’ve ever seen.
“What is it?” Flynn asks. Declan hands him the phone silently. Flynn’s eyes flick across the screen, and he starts reading aloud, slowly, stopping deliberately before saying, “Good girl.”
Connor’s gaze shoots to me, then back to Declan. The room feels suffocating.
“You knew each other from school, right?” Flynn’s chair creaks as he swivels to face me.
I nod, every pair of eyes pinning me to the spot. Declan’s, though, are the worst—piercing right through me like daggers.
Straightening my spine, I tilt my chin up, refusing to let them see me squirm. Screw this. It was ages ago. We all have a past.
“We had a one-night stand after I started college,” I say, proud of myself for sounding calm even though I feel like I’m unravelling inside. “He was visiting some friends; there was a party… it happened. That’s all.” It’s not exactly what happened but I’m not about no poke the damn bear by telling what really happened.
“I thought you said you didn’t give him, or Nolan, the time of day,” Flynn says, brushing his fingers thoughtfully over his beard.
“I did. Because it was no one’s business what I did back then,” I snap, turning to face him fully, fire burning in my chest now. “And to be very clear, this was years before the Dark Wars. It meant nothing.”
Declan stands abruptly and turns to the window. His shoulders stiffen, his whole frame taut with tension. The vein in his neck throbs visibly, and his hand is still clenched around my phone like he might crush it any second.
Ding.
I want to see you, Viviana.
Declan glares at the phone in his hand, reading the message aloud through gritted teeth. “He wants to see you.” His voice is sharp, practically dripping venom.
I stare at his back, my resolve hardening. “Good. This is exactly what we wanted, right?” I say, keeping my tone steady and confident.
This is what we’ve been waiting for. I can’t keep feeding my father fake targets forever; the Callaghans will run out of options soon. No, this isn’t ideal, but if meeting with Alek gives Declan the chance to take him down, then I’m all for it.
“No.” Declan’s voice is low and dangerous, trembling with anger. His hand trembling as he turns to face me, his jaw set like stone. “There is no way you’re meeting Aleksandr Koslov.”
Our eyes lock, and an unspoken battle of wills ignites between us.
“She’s right, mate,” Flynn finally says, breaking the tension. Connor nods in agreement. “It’s been weeks without a single fucking tip about him. This is perfect.”
“The fuck it is,” Declan snaps, his voice rising. “Alek is all kinds of fucked up. I’m not using my wife as bait.”
Wife.
The way he says it this time—it’s not sarcastic or biting like before. This time, it feels real, like he means it. And just like that, it hits me again. I’m his wife.
“I’ll be safe, Declan—” I start, but he cuts me off before I can finish.
“Safe?” His voice is harsh, his hand slamming against the desk. “What if he knows you’ve been lying? Would Alek really risk crawling out of whatever fucking hole he’s hiding in just for you?”
Just for me?
The words sting sharper than I expect. Like I’m not good enough. The exact comment my sister had the day he chose me and that stirs something inside me, a sadness I can’t control.
Without another word, I turn on my heel and storm out of the office.
“Fuck,” I hear him curse behind me, his voice strained. “Wait, Vi. I didn’t mean it like that.” His footsteps close the distance between us quickly. Before I can take another step, his hand grabs my arm, spinning me around and pinning me firmly against the wall.
“I know every man lucky enough to know you would do anything for you,” he says, his voice low, raw. “I know because I would. I did.” His body presses against mine, his heat and strength grounding me even as my head spins. “I can’t lose you, Viviana. And if by some chance he knows—” His voice falters as he shakes his head, his breath hot against my cheek.
He leans closer, his eyes locking onto mine. They’re red, heavy with shadows. Elva’s name lingers in the silence between us without being spoken, a ghost haunting him still. He couldn’t protect her
back then. There’s no way he could’ve known, but the guilt hasn’t let him go—not in all these years.
“I don’t know if I can protect you,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. My heart cracks into tiny pieces for him, for the pain lashed in his eyes.
I grab his face with both hands, forcing him to look at me. “You have protected me”. I pull his face closer until our breaths mingle, warm and unsteady.
His dark eyes lock onto mine, holding him in place. “And I can protect myself. With a knife, at least.” I wink, and his lips twitch into a small, reluctant chuckle, the tension in his face softening.
Leaning in, I kiss him—slow at first, but it quickly deepens. His hand digs into my lower back, pulling me flush against him, his kiss turning more possessive, almost desperate.
His fingers tangle in the back of my hair, tilting my head to claim me further. I let him, yielding to his dominance, pressing my body against his. My breasts push into his chest, and the low groan that escapes him vibrates through me, sending heat racing through my veins.
He breaks the kiss, his grip firm as he tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. “Fine,” he sneers, his voice dropping an octave, rough and commanding. “But for now, you keep texting him.
If he calls, I want to hear it. I need to be sure there’s not a hint of him knowing what you’re up to.”
I nod, breathless under his scrutiny. “I promise,” I whisper, giving him a soft peck on the lips. It’s a small act of reassurance, but his hands remain steady on me like he’s unwilling to let go.
He hands me my phone back, and I text Alek.
I didn’t do it for you.
Feeling Declan’s breath catch beside me, I press send. “I know how to deal with him. Trust me.”
He kisses the top of my head, his lips lingering as he takes a deep breath. I need him to trust me fully. I know Aleksandr, even after all these years. Men like him don’t change. He’s drawn to women who challenge him, who push back—bratty women, as he used to say. That’s what first attracted him to me.
That’s why he did what he did to me, to show me he could own me.
“I’m going to need to know more details about that one-night stand,” Declan whispers into my ear, his voice low and dangerous as he steps back. “All the fucking details.” His eyes burn with menace, and I know he means it.
I can’t help but scrunch my nose at the thought. Telling my husband about a night with Aleksandr Koslov? Yeah, that’s not going to happen.
Ding.
The sound cuts through the tension. I glance down at the screen.
If you want to bring Declan Callaghan down, let me know. I’d be more than happy to help, my dove.
Reading it, I instinctively press the phone against my chest, shielding it.
Declan’s brows knit together. “Let me see,” he demands, reaching for it.
I take a step back.
His frown deepens, his whole body shifting into something primal, like a predator ready to pounce. He licks his bottom lip with a slow, deliberate smirk. “Let. Me. Fucking. See. It.”
But I shake my head, taking another step away, holding my ground. “Let me do this on my own,” I say, my voice steady but pleading for him to understand. “I need time and privacy to be the person Aleksandr thinks I am. Please, Declan. Trust me.”
His jaw clenches, his shoulders rising and falling with barely restrained fury. From the corner of my eye, I see Flynn and Connor near the office door, watching the scene unfold. Connor inches forward, his gaze locked on Declan, ready to intervene if necessary.
Declan grunts, dragging a hand through his hair. “Fine, firecracker,” he says through gritted teeth, taking a step back before turning toward the office door. He pauses his back to me. “Don’t make me regret this, Vi.”
With that, he disappears into the office, slamming the door behind him.
Motherfucking God.
Lying in bed, I stare at my phone, thinking of what to write back.
Can I trust you? Weren’t you the one planting fake evidence that I was your informant, almost getting me killed by the Irish Consortium?
The waiting stretches my nerves thin, and anxiety shoots through the roof.
Ding.
Alek
It wasn’t me. You can thank your father for that.
My heart shatters all over again, the pain sharper this time. I knew it was him. I knew, but some part of me had clung to the idea that maybe—just maybe—he’d been forced by the Koslovs. But no. My father is even more fucked up than I thought.
Ding.
Alek: I can kill him for you. I don’t have use for him now that I have you.
Oh.
I let out a bitter laugh. Does Giovanni even realize how many men want to kill him right now?
No need for that, for now. I have my targets. Can I trust you, Aleksandr?
I send the text, my mind racing with what to do next. I could try setting up a meeting, but I doubt Alek would be that stupid… right? Then again, men like him often think with their dicks. Maybe I can use that.
Ding.
Alek: Let me show you.
My heart skips. What the hell does that mean?
Okay.
As I hit send, a pang of dread blooms in my stomach. Please, God, don’t let him do something stupid. Something like—oh, shit!
I bolt out of bed and down the hallway, storming into the office. “Where is Kian?” I blurt out, breathless.
Declan’s head snaps up, his face instantly draining of colour. Without a word, he grabs his phone, already connecting the call. Every second feels like an eternity.
“Where are you?” he barks into the receiver, his voice tight with barely restrained panic. I can’t hear the answer, but his eyes flick to mine, searching.
“Don’t fucking leave the penthouse until I tell you to,” Declan orders. “No one comes in or out. Get Mike and his men up there now.”
I clutch my stomach, the familiar, gnawing ache of anxiety clawing at me. Damn it, I’m going to get an ulcer from all of this.
Declan hangs up, slamming the phone onto the desk. “What the fuck, Viviana?” he snaps, leaning back in his chair as he rubs his face. “What happened?”
Connor steps forward, gripping my arm gently but firmly and guiding me into a chair. His face is as pale as Declan’s.
“Alek texted me,” I stammered, swallowing hard. “He says he’s going to show me I can trust him. I thought…” My voice catches.
“You thought he’d go for Kian,” Connor finishes for me, his voice tight.
“Fuck,” Declan mutters, dropping his head into his hands. “He’s safe. He’s at the penthouse.”
I stay seated, holding my phone like a lifeline. Over an hour passes while Declan and the guys talk about plans and things, I don’t care to understand. My mind races with the possibilities. Aleksandr is insane, and I don’t know what to expect from him.
That night in college started normal. He was kind and dominant, of course, but nothing I couldn’t handle—until he got rough. Too rough. I asked him to slow down and tried to push him off me, but he was out of control. He kept telling me I made him suffer for years and that it was his time now…
Flynn’s phone rings, slicing through my thoughts.
“What?” he grunts, his tone as sharp as ever.
Jesus, why do they always sound so angry when they answer the damn phone?
His eyes dart to mine as he listens, his expression unreadable. But he doesn’t look away.
“How?” he finally asks, his voice colder than before. He hangs up, still staring at me.
“Nolan Keeffe was shot,” Flynn says, deadpan.
My hands fly to my mouth, muffling the yelp that escapes.
“I’m guessing this is Alek proving you can trust him,” Flynn adds with a smirk, lifting his glass like we’re at a damn toast. “Never liked the fucker.” He takes another sip of whiskey, utterly unbothered.
I whip around to Declan, who’s wearing the same smirk.
“One less piece of shit for me to deal with,” he says casually, clinking his glass against Flynn’s.
“Are you all insane?!” I yell, waving my arms and shooting to my feet. “He’s dead! Someone died!”
Declan chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “He almost got you killed over some high school jealous bullshit. He deserved it.”
“And he was a pain in the ass,” Connor adds with a grin. “Always getting into trouble.”
“I’m surrounded by psychopaths!” I shout, pointing an accusatory finger at all three of them.
Ding.
I freeze, looking down at my phone.
Now, do you trust me?