Chapter 7
Declan
C losing the door to my room, I rip off my bloody shirt. That damn guard touching what’s mine—I knew something was wrong the moment I heard the loud crash on the door and didn’t see him.
My hand clenched into a fist, knuckles turning white as I try to shake the image of Viviana under him, struggling as I burst in. Fuck!
Why is this messing with me so much? Worse, why does my cock twitch when she blushes? And why do I keep wanting to go to her room? That firecracker is screwing with my head way too much.
I head to the shower, letting the water wash away the day’s chaos. My eyes close, and there she is, in that wedding dress. That goddamn dress. She looked like a sin—one I wouldn’t mind indulging in. She drives me insane. Stubborn as hell, loudmouthed, and dangerous.
Women are never like this around me—they’re always submissive to the point of boredom. Maybe that’s why my body reacts like this. It’s just something new. That’s all.
I grab my shaft, it’s already hard. “Fuck,” I mutter as the water pours over me.
My hand moves, gripping hard. My forehead presses against the cold tile as thoughts of Viviana flood my mind—her lips, the kind I’d love to see wrapped around my cock, making her gag as I grip her hair. Her breasts in that dress, her hips swaying as she walked into the ballroom in that tight gown.
I rub my crown with my thumb, imagining her tongue licking up the pre-cum. Fuck.
I hiss, pumping harder and faster, my fist tight. The thought of being inside her, tasting her arousal, drives me over the edge. My balls tighten, heat rushing down my spine as my muscles turn to stone.
My head snaps back, eyes rolling as I come undone. All I see is her—bent over my desk, crying out my name as I take her hard. The image is enough to push me past the edge. I hold onto the tiles, catching my breath, trying to regain control.
This is the first time I’ve jerked off to her. Usually, I’d call Roisin when the urge hit. She’s always been my go-to. I shake my head. Roisin understands the rules—no attachment, no feelings, just mutual consent and respect.
I need to get a grip on this situation. Viviana isn’t really my wife. She’s part of a business arrangement, and that’s all she’ll ever be.
Even after, I’m still restless, tossing and turning in bed. It’s nearly morning. I might as well get up and head to the gym.
After a couple of hours of training, I finally feel myself coming back to the control I’m used to—the control no firecracker is going to take from me, no matter how much my cock disagrees.
I head to the kitchen, and as soon as I step in, I see her.
Fucking hell, she’s everywhere!
In a baggy shirt and shorts—both black, of course—with her long, wavy, raven hair cascading down her back. I crack my neck, tension rising again just from her presence.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I clear my throat to get her attention away from whatever she’s frying on the stove.
“We have people to do that,” I say, grabbing the coffee pot and pouring myself a cup before sitting on the bench.
“Shit!” She jumps, turning to me with a wooden spoon in hand. I glance at it, raising my hands.
“I come in peace,” I chuckle as she rolls her eyes.
“I like making my breakfast.” Her coldness makes me uncomfortable. She was softer yesterday. I guess her walls are back up. Good. It’s better this way.
I stare at her for too long, my eyes tracing her legs up to the curve of her ass. I’d slap those cheeks until she begged me to stop.
“Declan,” Kian’s voice cuts through my thoughts just in time since my dick is already half-standing, and in these sweatpants, there’s no hiding it.
I rise from the chair, giving one last glance at her before heading to the office.
“The cameras are all up and running at the docks again,” Kian says. I nod.
“Let me get dressed, and we’ll leave,” I say, walking to the main bedroom upstairs.
Kian and I have a few meetings and a business lunch in the city, while Connor will stay behind at the mansion. He’s still digging into what happened at the docks.
“Is it safe for Connor to stay behind with Viviana?” Kian jokes, though the way he scrubs his chin tells me he knows this isn’t the best situation for my little brother.
“He needs to learn how to deal with vixens like her,” I reply, more amused than anything.
Connor is nothing like me or Kian. Hell, he’s not even like our father. Women make him uncomfortable as fuck, especially headstrong ones like Viviana. The poor kid can’t even breathe properly around a beautiful woman. When she talks back like Viviana does, it’s ten times worse.
By the time we arrive at the restaurant, Flynn Brady is already there. He’s in charge of dock security, a crucial part of the Irish Consortium. Our families are the key players: us, the Keefes, the Flanaghans, and the Bradys. Bryan Keefe owns most of the clubs in town. He’s an eejit, and I have zero patience for him, so most Irish Consortium meetings are done with Flynn, who passes the info along.
As the meeting progresses, I can’t help but think about Connor left behind with Viviana. Maybe it’ll toughen him up—or maybe she’ll break him. Either way, I’ve got bigger things to worry about right now.
“There’s no way someone outside would get past our security,” Flynn says, raising his wine glass. “Which means—”
“We have a mole.” My voice is cold, my hands clenching around the glass. I look at Kian, and he nods.
“The Russians?” Kian asks, lowering his voice. It’s like those fucking bastards are always nearby, hidden in the shadows.
Flynn was with me when Elva got killed. He felt my rage as his own. We tore this fucking city apart, but there were no clues. Nothing.
“I don’t think any of the Irish Consortium families would work with them,” I say, shaking my head. During the Dark Wars, the Russians attacked all the families—women and children were killed and tortured. There’s no chance in hell anyone would team up with the Koslovs.
“Giovanni?” Flynn clears his throat, avoiding my eyes.
I smirk. “Don’t worry, lad. The last person I care about now is that piece of shit.” The Morellis are business, nothing more. I couldn’t care less if they all dropped dead.
All of them except Viviana—but I won’t admit that.
“They have an alliance now. Would they risk it?” Kian twirls the ice in his whiskey. “They’re sick of paying us for security and import/export fees.”
“Now they don’t pay shit, but they’ve lost their part of the docks,” Flynn murmurs. He’s right. They’ve lost everything. Their only moneymaker is the guns they ship to Europe, and even those go through the Flanaghans.
A chill runs down my spine, but I shake it off. We’re already digging into Giovanni, but now, with Flynn thinking the same, I’ll have to be more careful around Viviana.
I know something is up the moment I walk into the living room. The air is thick with something electric, something dangerous, all radiating from her.
Viviana, in a damn short black dress, sways her hips to some dark, gothic, twisted tune. She is a vision of temptation, every move deliberate, every sway of her body designed to lure us in.
And there is Connor, caught in the middle of her little game. I see the flush in his ears, the way his eyes try to focus on anything else but keeps drifting back to her. He is hooked, and she knows it. Hell, she is thriving on it.
“Want to dance, my sweet brother-in-law?” she asks, her voice smooth as velvet, dripping with challenge. The way she looks at him, the way she moves—it’s a calculated strike, a step in her ongoing chess game with us.
Connor doesn’t answer right away, and that hesitation, that split second of uncertainty, is all she needs to know she has him wrapped around her finger.
Before he can decide, I step in, the room growing colder as I make my presence known. “Enough,” I say, my tone low, cutting through the music like a blade.
Viviana’s eyes met mine, that familiar smirk playing on her lips as if she has just been waiting for me to show up. She doesn’t stop moving, though; if anything, she leans into the music more, letting it flow through her as she challenges me with every sway of her hips.
“Oh, come on, Declan,” she purrs. “It’s just a little fun. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little dance.”
The way she says it, that mocking edge in her tone, makes my blood heat. She was pushing, as always, trying to find that line and dance right on top of it.
“Connor, leave,” I command, not taking my eyes off her.
Connor, clearly relieved, backs out of the room, casting one last lingering look at Viviana before he disappears.
Now, it was just the two of us, the tension in the room coiling tighter with every beat of the music.
“Looks like it’s just you and me,” she says, taking a step closer, her body still moving in time with the music. “Are you going to dance with me, Declan? Or are you going to run away?”
I let the silence stretch between us, letting her think she has the upper hand and is the one calling the shots.
But then I step forward, closing the distance between us in an instant. My hand reaches out to grip her wrist, halting her movement. “You want a dance?” I whisper, my voice deadly calm as I pull her closer, our bodies almost touching. “You think you can play this game with me and win?”
Her breath hitches slightly, but that damn smirk never leaves her lips. “I think I’ve already won,” she purrs.
I lean in, my lips brushing against her ear as I say, “Not even close.”
Then, without another word, I spin her around, pressing her back against my chest and holding her in place. She tenses, her hands gripping my wrist at her waist, her nails digging into my skin, but I keep my grip firm. My other hand rests on her hip, forcing her to move to the rhythm I set, letting my body grind against hers and praying my cock doesn’t betray me and show her just how much I’m enjoying this.
“You’re in my world now, firecracker,” I murmur, my breath warm against her neck. “My rules. And you’re about to find out just how dangerous it can be, especially if you double-cross me… wife.”
She stiffens, the playful edge in her demeanour faltering for just a moment. But I feel it—that crack in her armour—and I know she feels it too.
I keep her pressed to me, her scent filling my senses like an intoxicating embrace destined to drag me straight to hell. I see the goosebumps rising on her soft skin, her chest heaving as I grind against her body, my thumb tracing slow circles on her hip bone.
It’s taking every ounce of my control not to let my cock rise to attention. Still, the moment her breath catches, I release her abruptly, stepping back as the music continues to play.
She turns to face me, her expression unreadable, but I can see the wheels turning in her mind. She’s recalculating, and reassessing, and that’s exactly where I want her—off balance, uncertain.
“Careful, Viviana,” I warn, my voice low and dangerous.
With that, I turn and walk away, leaving her standing there. As I step into the hallway, I release a breath; it took every ounce of restraint to keep my blood from running south. “Fucking firecracker,” I mutter under my breath.
Heading to the dining table, I find my brothers already seated, Kian ensuring our younger brother is up to date on the new suspicions. Before I can say anything, I hear her heels clicking on the marble floor. Silently, I take a seat and nod to Connor.
They know better than to speak of anything sensitive when she’s present—especially now.
I watch her closely as she enters the dining room, her steps deliberate, as though she’s already calculated every move. Viviana is all about strategy, always finding ways to get under our skin. But when she bypasses the seat next to Kian and heads straight for the one across from me, I know she’s making a point.
She sits, and the new maid immediately moves to reset her plate. The girl’s trembling, clearly scared out of her mind, and I don’t blame her. This house doesn’t exactly breed comfort.
Rose vouched for the girl—she’s part of Rose’s family—and if Rose trusts her, so do we.
As the maid places the silverware near Viviana, it slips from her hand and clatters to the floor. I watch, expecting Viviana to snap at the girl.
She reaches out, grabbing the maid’s wrist—not roughly, but gently.
I tense up, waiting for her to make a snide remark or pull another one of her stunts. But instead, she smiles—a real smile.
“Don’t worry, honey,” she says, her voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “No need to hurry.”
The maid looks like she’s about to cry, but she nods, calms herself, and finishes moving Viviana’s place before leaving.
Viviana’s never shown kindness since she stepped foot in this house. She’s been nothing but a firestorm, burning through every interaction with a ruthless edge. But this... this is different.
Kian and Connor exchange glances, both as caught off guard as I am. This is a side of her we hadn’t seen before, and I don’t like it. Not because I prefer her being difficult, though I do enjoy the challenge, but because it makes her even more unpredictable.
“What’s this?” I say, leaning back in my chair, eyes locked on hers. “New tactic, Viviana? Trying to win over the staff now?” My tone is sharp, but there’s an edge of curiosity I can’t quite mask.
She meets my gaze, unflinching. “I don’t need to win over anyone; they already work in constant fear under the devil himself; there is no need to make it worse.”
I lean forward slightly, resting my elbows on the table. “This isn’t about them working in fear; they obey the rules, something you should learn.”
She tilts her head, a small, defiant smile playing on her lips. “I obey rules that make sense, not rules made by men in power who crave constant control. I feel like men that do that are… making up for something else,” she smirks. I want to fuck that smirk out of her face, fucking brat.
“Is that right, Viviana?” I say, my voice dropping low.
“I heard that the ones that can’t make others follow their rules are lacking… on something else,” I wink at her.
She shrugs, seemingly unaffected. “I doubt that.”
The tension between us is palpable, thickening the air in the room. Kian clears his throat, breaking the silence. “Are we eating, or are you two going to keep dancing around each other all night?”
Connor smirks, his eyes darting between us. “Shh, let them continue; this is pretty entertaining.”
I almost roll my eyes at him, but the food arrives, and I shift my attention to the plate.
Kian and Connor keep talking about the football match; a fun fact is that neither one of us enjoys watching it, but they are doing their best to keep this death silence from consuming us all. Viviana continues to eat, her eyes flickering to mine once in a while.
“Sir, Roisin is here, in the—” a guard says, but as soon as the three of us snap to him, he shuts up, looking at Viviana, and there it is, the damn smile, the fire in her eyes; she caught it. That’s just great.
I nod to the guard, and he scoops away.
That smile on her face is dangerous, a warning wrapped in sweetness. She doesn’t say a word about Roisin, but the way she’s handling this is almost worse.
The silence is loaded, each bite of her food a taunt. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and it’s infuriating that she’s choosing to keep her mouth shut.
She finishes her meal, getting up with a slow, deliberate grace; she walks around the table. That dangerous smile only grows wider as she leans in close enough for me to hear her next words, my heartbeat increases and I clench my hands under the table.
“Enjoy your… workout, Declan,” she says, her voice dripping with mockery. “Try not to think of me.” Her hand travels on my chest, going down to my belt before she pulls her hand away.
My jaw tightens, but I say nothing as she sashays out of the room, hips swaying provocatively. I keep my expression neutral, but inside, there’s a storm brewing. My cock half hardens, fuck.
She knows about Roisin. Hell, everyone does. But I expected something else from her: anger, spite, a fight. Instead, she leaves me with that playful jab and the knowledge that she’ll be on my mind no matter what I do.
Kian clears his throat, his voice cutting through the tension left in her wake. “That went… better than expected?”
Connor stares at me, “She’s taking it too well.”
I don’t respond immediately, my eyes still fixed on the doorway where Viviana disappeared. He’s right, of course. She’s playing this smart, using my tactics against me.
“Too fucking well,” I say, my voice steady, controlled. “She’s messing with me.”
“What are you going to do, mate?” Connor asks, his brow furrowing.
I lean back in my chair, weighing my next move. “I’ll deal with Roisin,” I add, standing up. “Then I’ll deal with Viviana.”
Kian smirks, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”
“You have no idea, brother,” I mutter, heading toward the door.
As I walk toward the parlour where Roisin is waiting, my mind betrays me. I can’t shake the memory of Viviana’s touch, the way that black dress clung to her. And then, as if summoned by the thought, I spot Roisin, legs for days, red lipstick, and tan skin like a goddess sculpted from stone. But she’s not Viviana.
Fucking hell, that woman is messing with my head.
“Roisin,” I greeted her with a brief smile, kissing both cheeks before leading her to my study and closing the door behind us.
“Are you okay, Declan?” she asks, her voice soft but laced with curiosity.
“I’m fine.” I’m not.
She steps closer, sliding onto my lap, her hips grinding on my already hard cock. But she’s not the reason I’m like this, and that’s the damn problem. Why can’t I do this? It feels wrong, and why does it feel wrong? Because my cock caught feelings, that’s why! Traitor!
“Declan?” Roisin’s voice pulls me back, her hands already unbuttoning my shirt, lips on my neck. I stop her, cupping her chin between my thumb and forefinger, lifting her gaze to mine.
“Not tonight, Roisin.” I brush my thumb over her lower lip, trying to soften the blow. It’s not her fault I’m feeling this way.
We sit and talk for a while about nothing in particular, and when it’s time, I walk her to the car. She pulls me in for a kiss, and I let her. It’s the least I can do.
As the car pulls away, I turn back to the house and see a shadow at Viviana’s window. She is watching. I know she thinks I fucked Roisin. Let her think that.
It may be for the best.
I give a casual wave to the window, and the shadow disappears.
I lick my lips and clean Roisin’s lipstick from my cheek; the next lipstick I’ll have on my skin will be Viviana’s around my fucking cock.