43. Connor
Chapter 43
Connor
The second I hang up the call, I move, already heading down the hall toward my father’s study. I don’t bother knocking before I push the door open, finding him exactly where I knew he’d be—sitting at his desk and nursing a glass of whiskey. He barely looks up as I step inside, but something in my expression must give me away because he sets the glass down, straightening slightly.
“Da,” I say, keeping my voice level even though my pulse is hammering. “Sofia’s at the gates.”
His reaction is immediate. His entire body stiffens, his head snapping up, his green eyes locking onto mine with something I don’t see often—genuine shock. “Sofia Reyes?”
I nod, still processing it myself. “Aye.”
He exhales sharply, running a hand down his face before leaning back in his chair. “Well, fuck me.”
I don’t wait for him to say more—I’m already turning on my heel and heading for the door. “I’m bringin’ her in.”
He doesn’t stop me, but I hear him mutter something under his breath before reaching for his phone, no doubt already making arrangements. I don’t care. Right now, all I care about is getting to her, seeing her with my own eyes, and figuring out what the hell she’s doing here after disappearing off the face of the earth for half a year.
When I reach the gates, she’s standing just outside them, wrapped in a thick coat, her blonde hair damp from the misty rain falling over the estate. She’s not the same girl I remember—not the sharp-tongued, cocky daughter of Santiago Reyes, who used to strut around like she owned the fucking world. The woman standing in front of me is different.
She’s scared.
That realization punches me right in the fucking gut.
I barely get a chance to take her in before she moves, closing the distance between us in two quick steps and wrapping her arms around me. I don’t hesitate—I pull her in, holding her tight as she buries her face in my shoulder. She’s shaking. Fuck.
“I got you,” I mutter, gripping the back of her coat. “You’re safe now.”
She exhales sharply, then pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyes wide and lined with exhaustion. “Connor, I know why my father was killed.”
My stomach drops. “What?”
She nods, swallowing hard. “I know everything. It runs deeper than Vito betraying the Crowns. Deeper than anything we ever thought.”
I shake my head, my heart pounding. “You shouldn’t even know about Vito’s betrayal. That was never public knowledge.”
“I know,” she whispers, her fingers tightening around my jacket. “I wasn’t supposed to know anything, but my father… he talked more than he should have. I overheard a lot growing up, more than anyone thought I did. And when he started dealing in shit he shouldn’t have, I put the pieces together.”
That sends a fresh wave of tension rolling through me, and without another word, I take her wrist and start leading her toward the house. She doesn’t protest, just follows, her breathing shallow.
By the time we get to my father’s study, he’s already waiting, standing near the desk, another whiskey poured but untouched. His gaze flickers between us as we step inside, and he takes Sofia in, reading her just like I did.
“Sofia,” he says, voice even. “Been a long time.”
Sofia straightens slightly, but I feel the tension in her body. “I need protection.”
Da raises a brow, glancing at me briefly before returning his attention to her. “That so?”
She nods. “I know things, Declan. Things that got my father killed. Things that might get you killed if you don’t listen.”
He exhales slowly, walking around his desk before leaning against it, arms crossed. “Start talkin’, lass.”
Sofia takes a deep breath and glances at me before looking back at da again. “I overheard a lot more of my father’s business than I was supposed to,” she admits. “Even before he was killed, I knew something wasn’t right. He was meeting with people he shouldn’t have been. Taking calls at all hours. I didn’t understand everything at the time, but after he died, I started piecing things together. My father wasn’t just dealing in the human trafficking, he was a fucking kingpin and Vito wanted to expand it to kids.”
The air in the room shifts, the weight of those words settling between us like a fucking guillotine.
The Five Crowns don’t deal in skin trafficking, it’s a line we don’t fucking cross.
Da rubs a hand over his jaw. “That slimy fuckin’ bastard,” he mutters. “And you know all this how?”
She looks down at her hands, voice barely above a whisper. “Because I was there when my father got the call five years ago. My father wanted out, but Vito blackmailed him into expanding.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
Santiago Reyes was never a good man—none of our fathers are—but human trafficking was a line we didn’t fucking cross, and if Vito wanted in and was blackmailing Reyes over it, that meant this went beyond just a simple betrayal.
Motherfucking greed.
I drag a hand down my face, my mind already spinning in a hundred different directions. “So what you’re sayin’ is, Vito has been blackmailin’ your father for five years, and because he wanted out, Vito had him killed?”
She nods. “And if he’s still pulling the strings, if he’s still trying to take control, then he’s not going to stop. He’s going to kill anyone who gets in his way.”
I exchange a look with my father. We already knew Vito was a fucking snake. But this? This changes everything. Because this isn’t just about power, this is about blood.
Da sighs. “And you think you’ll be safer with us?”
Sofia lets out a bitter laugh. “I know I’ll be safer with you. Because, according to my father, Vito doesn’t just want to control the skin trade—he wants control of everything. And the only way he can do that is by wiping the current Four Crowns off the board and replacing them with like-minded people.”
My father mutters a curse under his breath, pushing off the desk and walking toward the window. I watch the tension in his shoulders tighten as he stares out into the night, processing what she’s just told us.
If this is true—and fuck, it makes too much sense—then we’re already in a war. We just didn’t know it yet.
Finally, he turns back around, his gaze sharp as steel as he looks at Sofia. “You get my protection,” he says simply. “But if you’re lyin’—”
“I’m not,” she cuts in, voice firm. “I wish I was.”
He studies her for another long moment, then nods. “Connor,” he says, looking at me. “Get her a room. And get the boys on the phone. We need to move.”
I nod, glancing at Sofia one last time before leading her out of the office.
We’re past the point of playing defense.
It’s time to end this.
I walk beside Sofia while leading her through the halls of the estate, my mind still processing everything she just told us. The weight of her words—of what Vito has been planning—sits heavy in my chest, coiling tight like a fucking vice.
The human trafficking expanding to little kids. The blackmail. The years of calculated betrayal. It’s bigger than I thought—bigger than any of us thought. And it makes me want to hunt that fucker down myself and put a bullet between his eyes.
Sofia walks quietly beside me, arms crossed, shoulders tense, her gaze flickering over the familiar hallways of a home she hasn’t stepped foot in for years.
I glance at her, taking in the sharp angles of her face and the way she holds herself. For a moment, it feels like we’re fifteen, like we’re still just a group of kids playing at being heirs, pretending our futures weren’t already written in blood.
But that’s long gone. And so is the girl she used to be.
I stop in front of one of the guest rooms near Cat’s, pushing open the door and gesturing for her to step inside. She hesitates for a moment before walking in, her eyes sweeping the room. It’s simple but comfortable—a large bed, heavy curtains, thick rugs, and an armchair by the window. Safe, at least for now.
She exhales as she drops onto the edge of the bed, rubbing a hand over her face. I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, studying her.
“Why’d you pretend to be clueless last year?” I ask, my voice casual, but there’s an edge to it. “When Maddy was brought in for protection?”
Sofia lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking her head slightly. “I had to keep up appearances.”
I arch a brow. “Is that why you were a complete bitch to her?”
She looks up at me, a ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips, but it’s tired. Worn. “Yes,” she admits. “If I wasn’t jealous that Mihai had someone else, everyone would’ve thought something was wrong with me. And I couldn’t afford that.”
I don’t say anything, just watch her as she leans back slightly, supporting herself on her hands. Her eyes flicker with something guarded, and I know this goes deeper than just Mihai.
“I needed to act normal, Connor. After my father was killed, I needed to blend in. I needed people to believe I was still the same arrogant, spoiled bitch they always thought I was.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “And what better way to do that than to pretend I still had a claim on Mihai? To act like I was pissed about Maddy? It was an easy mask to wear.”
I watch her carefully, letting her words sink in. I remember how she was back then—sharp-tongued, quick to cut, always looking like she was seconds away from sinking her nails into someone just to make herself feel better. And yeah, she was a bitch to Maddy. But hearing this now, knowing the reason behind it, makes me see it differently.
“So you weren’t actually jealous?” I ask, tilting my head.
She laughs again, but it’s quieter this time. “I mean, maybe a little,” she admits. “Not because I wanted Mihai, but because Maddy had something I couldn’t have. Someone who cared about her. Someone who would go to war for her.” She shrugs, her gaze dropping to the floor. “And I had no one.”
I drag a hand down my face, sighing. “Jesus, lass.”
She lifts a shoulder, forcing a smirk, but I see the cracks in it. “Relax, Cunningham. I’m not looking for a therapy session. I’m just saying… it wasn’t about Mihai. It was about survival. And it worked. No one suspected a thing.”
I nod slowly, still watching her. “And now?”
Her expression hardens slightly, her back straightening. “Now, I need to stay alive. Because if Vito finds out I’m here, I won’t be.”
She’s right.
And that thought doesn’t sit fucking well with me.