Manacled Hearts: an Age Gap Mafia Romance (The Sanctum Syndicate Book 3)

CHAPTER 1

The flowers weigh strangely heavy in my hand. As heavy as the uncertainty weighing me down.

What the hell am I doing coming here with flowers?

I already knocked, damn it. Footsteps approach behind the door—it’s too late to throw them away.

The lock clicks and Katya greets me, but she’s not alone. A little figure squeezes between her and the edge of the door, looking at me with green doe eyes.

The sister.

“Hennessey. Come on in,” Katya greets, dressed much more casually than her usual pantsuits. “Maya, go on, let him in.”

“Who are you?” she asks before she dares to move.

“I’m Finnigan.”

The little girl narrows her eyes on me, scrutinizing my presence, though it comes across as more cute than menacing.

Her eyes seem to sparkle when they notice the flowers. She’s around seven years old, if I remember correctly, yet she seems untouched by the events that almost took her on an unthinkable path.

“Are those for me?” she asks.

“Maya,” Katya warns.

“Yes, sugar.” She gives me a way out, and I’m gladly taking it, leaning in and handing her the bouquet.

“Lilacs!” she exclaims, looking back at me in awe. “My favorites! How did you know?”

I realize that I’m fidgeting with my fingers, and I shove my hands in my pockets to stop myself. I’m not used to interacting with such small humans, even if I do have a nephew roughly her age. Granted, I’ve never met him. But Maya’s smile is infectious, and one pulls at my lips too.

“Lucky guess,” I answer.

“Thank you!” She jumps in excitement and disappears inside.

Katya shakes her head, gesturing me in, her expression as composed as ever. I don’t miss the amusement in her dark eyes, though.

“How is she?” I ask.

“Not as well as she tries to make it up to be.” She knows I’m not referring to the tiny human.

We walk into her kitchen, and I prop my elbows on the central island, looking into the open-plan living area. Katya fills a vase with water and takes it over to the coffee table. Maya carefully places each flower stem in, looking at the scented greenery like they’re the greatest gift.

“Were those for Evelyn?” Katya asks when she returns next to me, watching me intently.

“No.”

The answer comes too quick and one of her perfectly plucked eyebrows quirks. But she doesn’t press. She knows better than to do it.

“Where is she?” I ask.

“In the bedroom.”

“She trusts you with her sister?” I ask.

“No. She doesn’t trust anyone. Though I think she acknowledges I’m not a threat. But whatever they did to her in there is still coming out of her system. She drifts in and out, no matter how much she fights it.” Katya sighs, crossing her arms against her chest, and looks over to the little girl. “And she really is a fighter, Finnigan.”

I have limited information about the girl beyond her name—Evelyn Shaw—but based on what I’ve witnessed, I am convinced that she is a fighter. She didn’t hesitate to throw herself in the deep end in order to save all the children. One hundred and twenty-three souls are alive because of her sacrifice.

“Can I see her?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Why?” Katya narrows her eyes on me.

Why, indeed. What am I looking to achieve?

“If she’s up for it, I have some questions.”

“She’s already been asked questions by the others, Finnigan.”

“We have more.”

No, we don’t.

She sighs and points to the corridor leading to the bedrooms. Only, we’re both taken by surprise when we turn that way. Me more than Katya.

Evelyn stands at the entrance to that hall, holding her sister against her front, arms slid protectively over her chest. Her fierce gaze lingers on me. She’s watching me closely, not like prey, but equally ready to flee at the first sight of danger.

She hasn’t blinked yet.

Neither have I.

There’s an internal struggle happening, bleeding through her distant gaze. She’s tired. Still alert, but on the edge of disorientation.

No words leave her full, berry-colored lips, but she looks weary. Almost scared.

“It’s okay, Evelyn. He just came to check on you and Maya,” Katya says, breaking the silence.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” I say to her, forcing my voice to steady so I don’t make her more uncomfortable than she already is.

Only… I can’t break eye contact. I try, but the little voice in my head tells me she might never look me in the eye again if I do. For some reason, that bothers me.

“Did something happen?” Evelyn asks.

Christ, her voice is so soft. The tonality like cashmere, brushing dangerously pleasant against my ears. Her gaze is more focused—but luckily still fixed on me.

“Nothing happened. I wanted to see how yo—both of you are doing.” I think I forgot how words work.

She notices, and I swear she looks a shade brighter.

There’s no denying she just woke up. Her wheat-colored hair is messy and wrapped in a bun above her head. Stray strands fall around her delicate, slightly gaunt features. She looks sun-kissed with her medium-toned olive skin. It makes her eyes pop—golden sun-burst seeping into ash, followed by a thick, dark ring.

She is…

She’s quite something.

I shake the thought away before it has a chance to linger. This is far beyond dangerous territory. It doesn’t just touch on the forbidden, it’s smack bang in the middle of it.

“He brought me flowers!” Maya exclaims, pointing enthusiastically at the bouquet on the coffee table and pulling all of us out of this tension.

Her sister isn’t impressed. On the contrary—There’s suspicion in her eyes.

“We’re okay,” she adds. “Ekaterina has been good to us.

We’re the reason why Katya has been good to them, we arranged it all, and made sure they were taken care of and provided for.

But I say nothing to her.

“If you’re here to find out how long we’ll be staying, we will leave as soon as we are able to. I just need to—”

“I’m not here to make you leave,” I interrupt. “Stay as long as you want. We can find you a place of your own when you feel safer—”

“No. We’ll be fine. Thanks.” She cuts me off before I can continue.

Her gaze finds other interests, like the top of her sister’s head, or the floor. It flickers from her feet to me. Almost like she’s stealing looks.

A discomfort seems to settle in her.

Considering what she’s been through, I can’t blame her. Though, she hasn’t shared much about that. Only details about the kids, what she saw and heard, but nothing about herself. She brushed all those questions off like they were irrelevant. Maddox was the one who found her that night, and in the chaos of the rescue, I didn’t lay eyes on her. He said if she has anything to share, she will, but we won’t force it out of her.

“It’s no bother at all. We’re more than willing to help.”

“We don’t need any more help from people li—We’re fine.” Her tone is firmer, with an edge of disdain, and her eyes don’t meet mine anymore. I don’t fail to see the aversion in her expression, though.

Well, what the fuck was that?

To say I’m a little confused is an understatement. Seconds ago, she was watching me like a hawk. I could have sworn her cheeks even flushed.

I take a step around the kitchen island, and she tightens her hold around her sister as her eyes shoot to mine, but it’s for a few moments and she averts them again.

Those moments were enough to send all the wrong sensations through me.

“Right. Well, if you need anything…” I take a couple of steps away. “I have to go.”

I rush to the door and grip the handle.

“I thought you had questions,” Katya says behind me.

“Later. I realized I have a previous engagement.”

“Date?” Katya raises the voice after me.

“Yeah, a date.” It’s a lie, but right now, I think it’s exactly what I need. A woman to take my mind off of… everything.

I’m out in a split second, snapping the door shut behind me, and I exhale so loudly, one would think I held my breath the entire time I was in there.

What happened in that apartment?

And do I actually want the answer to that question?