Chapter 20
Declan
W aiting for her response, I watch her eyes dart between us, restless and calculating. She’s fucking hiding something; I can feel it, the way her eyes flinch just slightly, the way her hands fidget on the seams of her dress.
According to the maid, she’s been locked up in her old room all day, and every time I’ve seen her, she either closes that damn notebook or hides it. I searched for it and tore the place apart but came up empty. She’s hiding it well, but I’m not stupid.
She should count herself lucky. Connor intercepted more communications between Aleksandr’s men.
One of the perks of keeping Ivan’s situation hidden is that even the Koslovs don’t know where he is, so we’ve been using his burner phone and laptop to monitor their messages.
Most of them are coded, but when an email came through saying, “All set for the gothic princess,” I didn’t need a decoder to know who they were talking about.
The second Connor showed me that email, I was out the door. My men were already stationed, but that didn’t matter. She’s fucking mine. And there was no chance in hell I was going to leave her vulnerable with a target on her back.
My hands twitch even now at the memory of her struggling with that piece of shit that’s currently rotting at the bottom of the river, feeding the fish. She fought hard and made enough noise for my men to hear and act, but they’re still kicking themselves for letting it happen at all. They should. They’re damn lucky I didn’t cut their throats for their failure.
“Viviana,” I snap, pulling her attention to me. Her wide, olive eyes meet mine for a fleeting second, but they’re brimming with shadows, ones even deeper than mine. Whatever she’s hiding is pulling her straight into the abyss, and it’s dragging me right along with her.
Her throat bobs as she swallows hard, the muscles in her neck taut with tension. Her hands fidget with the seams of her dress, twisting the fabric nervously. I’ve never seen her like this, not even earlier today. What the fuck is going on?
“I don’t know,” she finally says, her voice a shaky whisper. Her gaze lifts to mine, but only for a brief moment before it drops again.
She’s lying. Her hands won’t stop moving, twisting and pulling at her dress, and her breathing quickens. Her chest rises and falls in short, uneven bursts and her skin is paler than I’ve ever seen it, almost translucent.
I lean in, lowering my voice to a cold, menacing mutter, my face just inches from hers. “Don’t fucking lie to me, or—”
“Or what?” she interrupts, her voice sharp and trembling with a mix of anger and defiance. “You’ll kill me? Take me to the warehouse like you did with those men.”
Before I can respond, her hands shove at my chest, surprising me. Connor steps in, but she turns on him in an instant, her knee flying up in an attempt to strike him. He backs off just in time, narrowly avoiding the hit.
Her fight-or-flight instincts have clearly kicked in, and of course, my little firecracker chooses to fight. Against three men, each twice her size.
I can’t stop the smirk that creeps across my lips.
“Is that why you’re lying?” I let her space, nodding at Kian and Connor to do the same. “You think I’ll kill you after everything I’ve done for you,” I pause, my eyes locked on hers. “To you,” I rumble, feeling the anger inside starting to simmer. How can she not trust me? After fucking saving her life again!
“I—” Her voice cracks as she shakes her head, tears spilling over her lashes. I’ve never seen her cry, not like this, and the sight tightens something raw in my chest, leaving my heart scrambling to figure out how the hell to react.
“It’s bad, Declan. It’s really bad,” she whispers, her voice trembling. She wipes her face with the back of her hand, her other gripping the edge of her dress like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. When she looks up at me, her wide, pleading eyes knock the air from my lungs.
Stepping closer, I reach for her hand, my fingers wrapping around hers as I raise it to my lips. I kiss the tears still clinging to her knuckles, their salty wetness brushing against my skin. “Trust me,” I murmur, softening my voice. “Just this once.”
She bites her bottom lip, the same lip that has driven me mad more times than I can count, and I can see it tremble under the pressure of her teeth. Her eyes, rimmed with red and heavy with unshed tears, meet mine briefly before flitting away. She’s holding it all in, the weight of it crushing her, but still, she fights to keep herself composed.
“I think he’s working with the Koslovs,” she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper.
I stare at her, unblinking. “We know,” I say simply, watching her blink open with shock.
“But why would he order a hit on you for that?”
She shrugs, but the movement is stiff, unnatural. “I don’t know. Maybe because he wants information and I don’t give him any.” Her words come too fast, and her gaze doesn’t meet mine.
I don’t believe her. Something isn’t adding up. Her fear, the way she hedges her words, it’s like she’s walking on a knife’s edge. If her father wanted her dead, there has to be more to this than she’s letting on.
Straightening, I take a deep breath and nod toward Connor. He steps forward, opening the door without a word.
“Leave,” I say flatly.
She doesn’t protest. Like her lying sister, she storms out. A minute later, I hear the slam of her bedroom door echoes down the hall.
“She’s lying,” I mutter, more to myself than anyone else.
“Yup,” Kian sighs, his arms crossed.
“But why?” Connor asks, his face flushed with frustration as he exhales sharply.
“I don’t know,” I admit, my eyes still locked on the door she disappeared through. But the look she gave me before leaving—it’s etched into me now. Whatever she’s hiding, she’s taken a piece of my damn heart with it; this will tear us apart, I know.
“What are you going to do?” Kian asks, his voice low.
Shaking my head, I grab the whiskey bottle and pour myself a glass. “I have no fucking idea. But she’s got a target on her back now.”
The glass creaks under the pressure of my grip, and flashes of Elva’s lifeless body flood my mind: the dirt, the blood, the horror. My jaw tightens. “I won’t let history repeat itself.”
As I leave the office, tension burns in my chest. In my bedroom, the cold emptiness hits me like a punch to the gut. Her scent, faint but unmistakable, clings to the air, mocking me. The room feels hollow, devoid of life—just like me without her.
How the hell did I get here? She was just someone to have fun with, to push. But after this whole week of fucking her and having her sleep softly next to me, I can’t think of my life without her.
I could break her door down, drag her out, and force her to stay with me. But I can’t let my emotions take control. Not now.
Sleep doesn’t come tonight. My mind runs in circles, grasping for a solution that doesn’t exist. When the door bursts open at dawn, Connor’s face is grim.
“The Keeffes and the Flanaghans are here,” he announces, urgency cutting through his words. “They came for Viviana.”
A snarl rips from my chest as I storm past him, my hand brushing the weapon at my side. Nolan stands in the living room, and my vision blurs with fury as I grab him by the collar, slamming him against the wall.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I rasp, my voice low and deadly.
“Easy, Declan,” Flanagan says, his tone infuriatingly calm and measured.
“We have new intel,” Nolan says, straightening his jacket as I shove him aside. “We know who the Koslov’s informant is.”
“Oh, yeah?” I snap, my fists itching to connect with his smug face. “Who?”
Nolan looks at me, his mouth curling into a mocking smirk. “Your wife.”
“Viviana?” Kian’s voice is sharp, disbelief clear in his tone.
“There’s no way it’s her,” Connor cuts in, his hand resting on his holster, his eyes blazing with the same rage burning through me.
“It’s not her,” I state firmly.
“We have proof,” John Flanagan interjects, tossing me a phone. Messages signed with “Vi” appear on the screen, sent to one of Aleksandr’s associates.
“You know she went to school with the Koslovs?” Nolan adds, his sneer widening.
“It’s not her,” I snap, but I can’t reveal the truth—that it’s Giovanni. If I do, they’ll think she’s working with him, and things will spiral out of control.
“You know the rules, Declan,” Flanagan says coldly. “You may be the leader of the Irish Consortium, but we still have a say.”
“She either comes with us calmly, or we’ll do this the hard way,” Nolan threatens, his hand inching toward his gun.
The room tenses, my men shifting behind me. This is seconds away from turning into a bloodbath.
“I’ll go,” Viviana’s voice slices through the tension like a blade.
She steps into the room, her dark eyes blazing, her chin held high. She’s a vision in black, jeans, and a sweater—a storm ready to tear us all apart.
“Viviana,” I say, taking a step toward her, but she raises a hand to stop me.
“No,” she says firmly, her gaze locking with mine. “No blood needs to be shed. Not because of me.”
Nolan smirks as he looks her over, his expression darkening with lust. My fists clench at my sides, my control hanging by a thread.
“Nolan,” I snarl, stepping closer to tower over him. “You touch her, and to hell with the fucking rules, I’ll bury you myself.”
“No one will touch her,” Flanaghan assures me, his voice calm as he places a hand on Viviana’s arm.
She doesn’t flinch. Instead, she stares at him, her tone icy and venomous. “Once you see it’s not me, I’ll personally deliver your head on a platter,” she spits at Nolan, her words sharp enough to cut steel.
Connor and Kian shift behind me, ready to draw, but I raise a hand to stop them. If this goes south, I won’t get to her in time.
“I’ll be fine,” Viviana says softly, her eyes briefly meeting mine. But then I see it—the flicker she can’t hide. It's goodbye. She doesn’t think she’s coming back.
My heart pounds like it’s trying to break free from my ribcage. My hands tremble, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. No. It’s not a goodbye. I won’t let it be. I close my eyes, flashes of her consuming me—the way she was beneath me, her moans echoing in my ears, the way her nails marked my skin as hers, and the way I claimed her body as mine.
She is mine.
“I will come for you,” I say, my voice cutting through the heavy silence like a blade.
The room falls completely still, all eyes turning to me, but I don’t care. My gaze remains locked on her. “And I’ll bring you back, even if I have to burn the Irish Consortium to the fucking ground, and everyone in it.”
Her lips part, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She blinks them away and offers me the faintest smile. It’s enough to break me.
Flanagan leads her out, Nolan smirking as he trails behind. That smug bastard. Rage claws its way up my spine.
“He’ll be the first one I burn,” I bite out.
“I’ll get the gasoline,” Connor mutters, his voice low and tight.
“And I’ll bring the fucking matches,” Kian adds.
As the cars disappear beyond the estate gates, I storm toward the office. “Where the fuck did that phone come from?” I snap, my voice sharp enough to slice through steel.
“Viviana’s smart,” Kian says, shaking his head. “If it was her, do you really think she’d sign the messages with ‘Vi’?”
“Giovanni’s playing us. He’s making sure the heat’s off him by throwing his own daughter under the bus,” I say, pacing the room.
“Viviana knows something,” Connor says, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he searches for the phone’s origins. “Something big enough to push Giovanni. He can’t kill her, so…”
“So he made sure the Flanaghans and Keeffes found the phone, painting her as the perfect scapegoat,” I finished, gripping the back of a chair. “She’s forced to marry me. She’s known for hating everything we stand for. It’s too convenient. Too fucking convenient.”
I press my hands to my face, trying to erase the image of her tear-filled eyes as she walked out.
“And Nolan Keeffe?” Kian leans back in his chair, rubbing his jaw. “Lad seems to have something against her.”
“He’s been on her trail for a while,” Connor says, looking defeated.
“Why?” I snap, turning to face him.
“He liked her,” Connor deadpans.
“What?” My voice drops an octave as I step closer, leaning over him.
“Nolan,” Connor says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “They went to school together, with the Koslovs. He liked her, but she never gave him the time of day.”
Connor keeps typing, scrolling through files, his focus unwavering.
“And the Koslovs?” Kian asks, incredulous.
“She doesn’t care for them either,” Connor shrugs.
I narrow my eyes at him, crossing my arms. “How the fuck do you know all of this? You weren’t in school with her.”
“Carla,” he says, his tone detached.
“Carla? Your ex?” Kian raises a brow, clearly amused.
Connor sighs. “Yeah. She was in the same class as Viviana.” He finally turns to face us, his expression neutral. “I thought you guys knew. Anyway…” He gestures back to the screen. “Carla used to say Viviana hated everyone, including the two guys fighting over her.”
“Nolan and Aleksandr,” I mutter.
Now, it makes sense. That’s why Nolan looks at her like a starving dog eyeing a steak. He wants her. And we know he hated me for years. I wonder how he feels now, knowing I’m fucking the one he can never have.
Grabbing my phone from the desk, I scroll through my contacts.
“What are you doing?” Kian asks, raising a brow.
I smirk, bringing the phone to my ear. As it rings, I wait for the other side to pick up.
“Flynn, it’s Declan,” I say when the line connects. “We need to talk.”