Chapter 33
Viviana
M y fingers clench the fabric of my dress as I swallow hard, trying to keep it together. Declan explained everything; he told me I didn’t need to be here. But I have to. For him. For what Alek did. For closure.
We’re at one of the Callaghans’ warehouses, far from the docks, hidden in the middle of nowhere. Every member of the Irish Consortium is here. I sit between Connor and Kian, their protective glances weighing on me. “If you want to leave, just let us know,” Kian whispers, and I nod.
The warehouse is cold, and the air is thick with the smell of wet fur and desperation. The Irish Consortium’s leading families sit on wooden benches around a small raised platform. Behind them, guards stand with crossed arms, their guns visible. At the center are Declan Callaghan, Flynn Brady, John Flanagan, and Christian Keeffe, who took Nolan’s place after he died—the heads of each family.
The hum of whispers fills the space. Declan steps forward, commanding attention in his perfectly tailored black suit. His voice is deep, controlled, and powerful enough to drown out every other sound.
“As you all know, we finally caught Alek Koslov,” he announces. Applause and whistles erupt like this is some kind of twisted circus.
“And as the rules demand, tonight, he will pay for what he did,” Declan continues. “From the attacks on our warehouses and shipments to killing Elva Finlay.”
He glances to his left and nods. An older couple sits there, the woman clutching a single white flower, like the one Elva held in the photo I saw in Declan’s private room. Her parents , I mumble to myself, and Kian nods. They look devastated. My heart aches for them, and I press my nails into my thighs to ground myself, the sharp pain keeping me from breaking down.
“For Nolan Keeffe,” Declan says next. Christian steps forward, his jaw tight as he nods.
“For all the men we lost at the hands of the Koslovs,” Declan declares, and the guards behind us stomp their boots in unison. The sound startles me, and Connor squeezes my hand, giving me a reassuring smile.
“And for Viviana Callaghan.” Declan’s eyes meet mine, and my heart skips a beat. The guards stomp again, the noise echoing in approval. I manage a shaky nod, forcing a small smile.
Declan tilts his chin toward Flynn, who disappears for a moment before returning with Alek. My hand tightens around Connor’s as they drag him in. Alek looks like he’s been run over by a car multiple times. He’s barely recognizable, worse off than Declan after their fight.
They kept him alive for a week, pulling whatever information they could about his missing cousin and his connections. He didn’t give up much.
Flynn lets Alek’s body drop onto the platform, the heavy thud echoing as the wooden pallets creak beneath his weight. Connor leans in close, his lips brushing my ear. “You may want to close your eyes for this.” I take a deep breath and shake my head.
Declan walks toward Elva’s parents. The father starts to rise, but it’s the mother who stands first. Declan freezes, his eyes heavy with sorrow, but she gives him a gentle smile and takes his hand, whispering something to him. He kisses her cheek, and a tear slips down my face.
She approaches Alek, and Flynn yanks his head up by the hair, forcing him to his knees. Declan hands her a sleek black dagger, beautiful yet deadly. Tears streak her face as she grips it tightly.
“This is for my beautiful, amazing daughter,” she says, her voice trembling as she stabs him near the ribs. Alek lets out a groan.
I should look away, but I can’t. I’m frozen, my hand still clamped onto Connor’s. I notice him and Kian exchanging a glance. “I’m fine,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
Declan gently guides the woman back to her seat, offering the father the chance to take her place. The man shakes his head, pulling his wife into a tight embrace. “Thank you, Declan,” he says softly. Declan’s body tenses for just a moment before he regains his composed stance.
Next, Christian steps up. He wastes no time, plunging the dagger into Alek’s gut with brutal force. Blood pours out as Alek screams in agony, only to laugh through the pain.
“You can all go to hell,” he spits, his voice dark and taunting. “This war will never stop. The Koslovs will never stop.”
The crowd erupts, shouting for his death. Declan ignores him, stepping forward with a steely resolve. “For the good men we’ve all lost,” he says. Mike, the Callaghans’ head of security, takes the platform, smirking as he grabs the dagger. He leans down, whispering something into Alek’s ear before stabbing him on the other side of his ribs.
The room fills with Alek’s groans of pain. My breathing quickens, my stomach turning as the dizziness sets in.
“Breathe through your mouth, Viviana,” Kian murmurs, his hand rubbing slow circles on my back.
Declan steps forward again, standing tall and imposing. His presence dominates even from the back of the room.
“For the woman who made me want to be better,” he begins, his voice low and deliberate. “For the woman who melted my heart after it turned to stone, but also made me a more dangerous man.” His lips curl into a devilish smirk. “I never thought I could love again, Viviana. And Alek Koslov almost took that from me.”
He turns back to Alek, the dagger gleaming in his hand. With precision, Declan points the dagger to Alek’s stomach, but then he looks at me; his eyes are dark; he whispers something in his ear and plunges the knife right into his dick, twisting the blade until Alek can’t hold back his scream and he vomits. Blood pours out as Declan pulls the dagger free.
I clamp my hand over my mouth, fighting the urge to vomit. As well.
“Easy, Viviana. Breathe,” Kian whispers again.
I close my eyes, but the sounds around me are enough to make me question whether I should’ve come. A part of me needed this, to see him pay. But another part wonders if I’ll ever feel clean again.
“For the Irish Consortium,” Declan says, his voice booming. Flynn raises the dagger high, and everyone stands, echoing the phrase in unison. Flynn grabs Alek by the hair, exposing his neck, and slices through it in one swift motion.
Alek’s body crumples to the floor, blood pooling as his dying gargle fills the air. I can’t take it anymore. I bolt from the room, rushing outside to lean against a tree. My stomach heaves violently, and I lose what little is left in me.
When it finally stops, I feel a hand on my back and another gathering my hair.
“I’ve got you, firecracker,” Declan’s soft voice cuts through the storm in my head.
“You’re too stubborn,” he whispers, his fingers gently stroking my hair. “I told you not to come.”
“Shush,” I say before another waterfall of food makes its way out of me.
“Did you just shush me again, firecracker?” His voice is amused, and I turn to stare at him.
“Fucking Irishman,” I say, shaking my head.
“At least we hold in our food,” he shakes his head, his voice full of judgment with amusement. He pulls me up. “This is too much. I warned you. Why did you come, Viviana?” His eyes are filled with concern.
“I needed closure, Declan, for everything he did,” I manage to say, straightening up. “I knew this was going to be bad, but I feel a sense of… justice.”
A kind of twisted justice, but Alek is a dangerous man; he deserved every stab, and Giovanni got clemency from Declan. Shooting him was the easy way out.
We arrive at the mansion, Kian and Connor heading straight to the main room, leaving me and Declan trailing behind.
“So, sister-in-law,” Connor begins, pouring whisky for everyone and handing me a glass. “Thinking of leaving us?” His tone is casual, but I can feel the tension shift. Declan clears his throat behind me, grabbing his drink as he steps closer.
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused, my gaze darting between the three of them.
Declan steps forward, standing in front of me, his expression serious. His olive eyes lock onto mine, shifting slightly as if he’s searching for the right words. “You being here, it is part of a deal,”
he says, pausing to take a sip of whiskey. “A contract made with…” He hesitates, exhaling deeply. “With Giovanni.”
Connor moves around the table, grabbing a stack of papers and handing them to Declan, who holds them out for me to see. It’s the contract. The marriage arrangement. My breath catches as I meet his eyes. There’s a gentleness in his expression, but also sadness.
Declan turns and walks toward the fireplace, his back to me. Without hesitation, he tosses the papers into the flames. The fire consumes them quickly, the edges curling and darkening until nothing is left.
Still facing the fireplace, he speaks, his voice quieter but firm. “You’re free, Viviana.”
My heart stops. “You want me to leave?” My voice cracks, rising higher.
Declan spins around, crossing the room in a few quick strides, but I step back before he reaches me. He freezes, his face falling into a look I’ve never seen before—unsure, almost desperate.
“No!” he blurts, running a hand through his hair. His jaw tightens before he forces out the words. “I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay because you want to be here… with us.” His voice lowers, muscles flexing under his shirt. “With me.”
Oh.
I close the gap between us, my heart pounding in my chest. “I’ve never felt more at home than I do here, with you. Even if you are
crazy as hell,” I add with a teasing smile, glancing toward Connor and Kian, who are grinning like fools.
“And being my wife?” Declan asks, towering over me now. His knuckles brush softly against my cheek, and I feel the heat rising in my face.
“If you ask nicely this time,” I whisper, my lips quirking into a smirk.
His smile grows, but his tone remains serious. “I mean it, Viviana. You’re free to do whatever you want with your life. Even if you stay here, as my wife, as a Callaghan… you’ll always be your own person. You own your life. I just want to be by your side and help make all your dreams come true.”
His words settle in my chest like a warm weight.
“For fuck’s sake, just take her to the fucking room,” Kian mutters, waving his glass in the air.
Declan laughs, setting his drink down before he scoops me up and throws me over his shoulder. I let out a surprised laugh, my face heating up as he slaps my ass.
When he turns to head for the stairs, I catch Connor and Kian watching us. Smiling, I mouth, I love you guys. Both blush before crossing their hearts with their fingers.
“Tá grá againn duit freisin,” Kian says softly, and I tilt my head.
Declan stops on the stairs, glancing back at his brothers. Though I can’t see his face, the warmth in theirs tells me all I need to know.
He carries me into the bedroom, opening the door with one hand and closing it with his foot before gently setting me on my feet.
I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth, walking out I see Declan standing, waiting for me with a smile.
“What did that mean?” I ask, referring to Kian’s words.
“It’s an Irish saying,” he murmurs, brushing my hair behind my ear. “They love you too.”
My chest tightens as Declan pulls me close, his hand stroking my hair. His voice is low, raw with emotion. “Is í grá mo shaoil í,” he says, the Irish words rolling off his tongue like a vow.
I blink up at him. “What does that mean?” I whisper, my voice trembling.
“It means you’re the love of my life, firecracker.”
Oh.
My legs feel weak beneath me. I pull him close, crashing my lips to his, my tongue exploring his mouth as he meets me with equal fervour. His hands move to the zipper of my dress, and when he pulls back to watch it fall to the floor, his voice is rough with hunger.
“You drive me fucking insane, Viviana,” he grunts, and a shiver runs down my spine.
Stepping back, he shrugs off his suit jacket and shirt. My eyes roam over his toned body, and the smirk on his lips tells me he’s noticed. He kneels in front of me, his fingers brushing my thighs as he plants soft kisses along my skin.
I grab his hair and tug lightly, making him look up at me. “Ti amo con tutta l’anima,” I whisper, my voice breaking as tears prick my eyes.
His gaze locks onto mine, and I see his chest rise and fall like a weight has been lifted. “I love you with my soul too,” he replies, his voice hoarse.
A wide smile spreads across my face. “You know Italian?” I ask, surprised.
“I learnt the moment I’d chosen you,” he says, his smirk turning devilish as his hands hook into my panties, sliding them down slowly.
Raising each foot, I watch him pocket them with a mischievous grin. I arch a brow.
“Mine,” he growls, his voice dripping with possession.
“Come here,” he commands as he sits on the edge of the bed, his tone laced with dominance, and I obey. My nipples harden, and he takes one into his mouth. I moan as he sucks and bites, sending shockwaves rippling through my body. His deep groans only intensify the sensations, making my core tighten.
“Declan,” I breathe, my nails digging into his shoulders. He pinches my other nipple, and my hips buck involuntarily as a cry of pleasure escapes my lips.
His knuckles press against the seam of my pussy, making me bite my lip. He slides a finger inside, and my back arches off the wall.
“Your cunt is so wet; I know you can take another,” he groans, slipping in another finger. My hips thrust forward as I let out a loud moan, my legs trembling. Then his tongue begins circling my clit, sucking and nibbling just enough to drive me mad. The pressure builds, bringing me dangerously close to the edge. But he slows down, and I whimper in frustration.
A deep chuckle vibrates from him. This bastard is edging me! Gripping his hair, I yank his head back, forcing him to look at me. “You are not going to edge me, Declan!” I snap, but it only makes him laugh.
“Stay still, firecracker, and do as you’re told,” he grunts, his voice dark and commanding.
His attention returns to my pussy, fingers pumping in and out at a torturous pace that keeps me on the brink but won’t let me fall. His tongue teases in maddening circles, igniting my need for more—fuck, I need more!
My eyes flutter shut as heat coils low in my belly.
“Look at me,” he demands. “I want to see you come.”
His thumb presses harder on my clit, his fingers curling inside me, hitting that spot that makes my toes curl. My hips rock against his hand as his pace quickens, and heat surges down my spine.
“Yes, Declan,” I cry, my walls clenching around his fingers. My arousal drenches his hand as I ride out my release.
He leans in, his tongue gliding up and down my pussy, prolonging my pleasure. My moans taper off as I come down from the high, my body trembling and thoroughly spent.