Chapter 18 Zahra
ZAHRA
“...Declan’s my fiancé.”
Fiancé.
Fiancé?
When the hell did that happen? Unless I wildly misinterpreted the situation, I was fairly certain Declan was flirting with me not even ten minutes ago.
Granted, he wouldn’t be the first man who blatantly tried to get with me when he had someone waiting for him at home.
I’d encountered lots of scum in my line of work, and cheaters ranked close to the top in my personal list of men who didn’t deserve to breathe.
Declan turns to me, wide-eyed. “I promise it's not what it looks like.”
Gross. “Jesus Christ. At least get some new material. It's a bit pathetic how predictable this all is.”
“We’re not engaged—”
The blonde, I believe her name is Natalie, if my memory serves me correctly, interjects, “Well, not yet, but that’s why I brought Daddy here so we could work out the details of my alimony.”
Ah. Okay. Now I understand. “This is a business arrangement,” I summarize.
Declan winces. “Sort of…it's a bit more complicated than that. Do you think we could talk…privately?”
“Sure, but if I was your soon-to-be-fiancé I’d be pretty pissed that you were straight up ignoring me for another girl.” I offer him a piece of advice, which he doesn’t take and he quickly excuses himself and leads me into his office.
Whether to make us look better or because they can’t help being nosy, Azula and Aidan follow behind, refusing to be left out of the conversation.
Declan scratches the back of his neck awkwardly as we all enter his office. “Sorry for the mess. I planned on cleaning up this morning, but I had to deal with a Maura-related issue.”
I blink, taking in the nearly immaculate room in front of me, sans a few scattered books on his desk, and a jacket thrown haphazardly on the loveseat close to the bookshelf. If this is what he considered messy, he’d probably have a heart attack if he ever saw my room.
“God, that poor woman. I’m surprised she hasn’t quit yet, having to put up with you two,” Azula snaps, picking at her nails while glowering at the younger McAlister brother.
“Hey. What did I ever do to you to make you so snippy?” Aidan asks.
“The both of you have dragged our meeting on long enough. Throwing frivolous distractions our way—”
“Breakfast is literally the most important meal of the day—” Aidan scoffs.
“And now you’ve made us a part of a whole circus with Natalie and her father practically preening all over Declan and his money—”
“Natalie…that’s her name.” Declan sighs with relief.
My head snaps in his direction. “You don’t even know the name of your fucking fiancé? Are you insane?” Arranged marriages were certainly still a thing among the various mafias, but at the very least, most organizations had the sense to run a background check on who they were marrying.
“Again, she’s not my fiancé—”
“Well, you want her to be, don't you?” I cut him off.
“That’s a complicated question. Do I want a fiancé? Yes. Well, really, I would say I need one at this point more than anything. Whether it ends up being her or anyone else…doesn’t really matter to me.” He shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Damn. This was the cold and calculated Declan that Cyrus had warned me about.
The one that didn’t care about anyone else’s feelings so long as he got his way.
It’s what makes him a great boss, I suppose, the ability to turn off enough of his humanity to be able to think about the betterment of his organization.
“What exactly do you need this engagement for? More access to customers? Expanding trade roots?”
“To officially put an end to my uncle’s power.”
I blink. That doesn’t make any sense. “How would getting engaged solve that?” Declan and Aidan exchange pained glances. I am so over this. “If one of you doesn’t tell me what the hell is going on instead of continuing to stall—”
“Do you remember a few weeks ago? When I mentioned my father had written in his will for my uncle to be second. There’s a timestamp on that clause.
The moment I get married is the moment I gain full control of the Irish Mafia, which includes having sole access to our funds and the ability to pick my own second. ”
“I’m sorry, what? Your dad wrote in a marriage clause?” I can’t help but let out a laugh. Somehow, the thought of Cillian McAlister, one of the most powerful mob bosses in the world, feeling the need to meddle in his son’s love life beyond the grave is just comical to me.
Declan’s eyes narrow. “He warned me I had put too much emphasis on work and not enough on finding a partner, so I guess this was his final way of ensuring I didn’t dawdle for too long. He knows how much I despise my Uncle Lorkan being in charge of…well, anything.”
“Wow, if anyone's dad was going to write a marriage clause in their will, I’m sure most people would’ve had their bets on it being me.
This is oddly refreshing.” And perhaps unsurprising.
My father didn’t think any man was worth my time.
I can’t say I entirely disagreed with him, given my track record of shitty exes I had in college.
“Yes, I’m glad only one of us has to be bartered off like a prize horse to the highest bidder.” Declan’s tone is laced with sarcasm.
“I’m counting this as reparations for the patriarchy. Your father always was a solid ally,” I tease, which manages to get a very small, blink-and-you-miss-it, smile from Declan.
“So now that we’ve cleared up the whole fiancé situation—”
As if on cue, Natalie and her father come barreling through the office door, an incredibly distressed security guard trailing behind them. The fact that I don’t recognize him informed me that he must be new.
“We’re in a meeting, Connor. A private meeting,” Declan snaps back into boss mode, and I swear I see a trail of sweat fall from Connor’s forehead.
“I-I understand that, Boss. I tried to tell that to Miss Greylock, but then she informed me that she was your fiancée and that you would be very upset if you found out that I had prevented her from speaking to you so I thought it was best….” Connor gulps, unable to finish his sentence.
“I see.” Declan’s expression turns from irritation to pain as he glances at Natalie and her father.
It’s almost at that moment he finally realizes what the rest of his life will look like and he’d rather do anything or be anyone else.
Can’t say I could blame the guy. The thought of marrying a complete stranger—one who has made it very clear they only want me for my money—made my stomach turn.
I hated feeling used. It was a feeling that, in our line of work, was unavoidable to an extent.
People always assume that bosses are untouchable but years of being trained by my father showed me otherwise.
Bosses held all the power, which means someone always wanted something from you and would be willing to do anything or kill anyone to get even the smallest taste of that power.
It felt like you were constantly swimming in a pool filled with vipers ready to strike, and Declan was about to gain another viper.
Except this would be much worse. Mob wives, by definition, gained a large amount of power and say upon being married into a family.
And given Declan has been so hands-off in researching who he was marrying, I’d be willing to bet he hadn’t thought far enough to draw up a prenup. Fucking hell, this was bad.
Entirely too much of the Persian Empire’s assets are tied up with the Irish. The last thing I want or need is another person I have to run my decisions past. Another person I have to get approval from. I need to fix this situation. Fast.
“We appreciate your diligence, Connor, but Miss Greylock has appeared to have misled you. She is not Declan’s fiancé. I am.”