Chapter 31 Zahra
ZAHRA
He ordered me to rest on the couch, icing and wrapping up my ankle tightly in a bandaid and elevating it with a few pillows.
When I insisted I needed to get up to clean Cody’s litter box, he sent me the dirtiest look, nearly barking at me to stay seated while he took care of everything.
And Cody, the little traitor, has fully taken to Declan.
My cat follows Declan around the house and occasionally meows for a treat, which Declan is more than happy to oblige.
The tabby cat took months to even allow me to pet him and I saved him from the streets.
Meanwhile, Cody constantly purrs up a storm whenever Declan sits down next to him on the couch, and he rubs himself against Declan all the time.
The two are so obnoxiously adorable together, I swear it’s fucking with my head.
Declan is hard to resist as a tough, broody mob boss, but as a softie who takes care of me and my cat—there’s no way I’d be able to keep things professional between us for long.
“Alright, it’s time for some ice.” Declan enters the living room with a large ice pack in hand and takes a seat next to me on the massive couch. His warmth immediately envelopes me and all I want to do is bury my head in the crook of his neck and fall asleep.
“I can do it myself,” I offer, extending my hand to take the ice from him.
Declan just shakes his head. “I know you can, but I like helping you. It makes me feel useful.” He lifts up the blanket that’s covering my swollen foot and gently undoes the bandage.
Purple and blue bruises have started to form around my ankle, but they should hopefully start to fade soon.
Declan places the ice pack directly on the injury, and the sudden sensation makes me hiss.
“Sorry.” He gives me a soft smile, one that makes my insides feel like they’re nothing but goop, and lifts the ice pack off my foot.
“It’s fine. Always stings at first but then it feels better.” I place my hand on top of his, guiding it back toward my ankle. Leaning my head against the backrest of the sofa, I groan. “I can’t believe I twisted my ankle.”
“Cyrus was coming at you quite aggressively.” Declan’s shoulders stiffen and I watch his jaw pinch.
“He’s just doing his job. He’s right that I need to be prepared for anything. Going easy on me in the rink doesn’t help me out in the long term,” I reassure him.
Declan bites his lip, contemplating what to say next. “It was hard just standing there. Being unable to help.”
With anyone else, I’d roll my eyes and scoff.
I prided myself on being able to get by in life without relying on anyone else around me.
My dad warned me at a young age that many would think of me as a spoiled mafia princess—a damsel in distress—and I vowed to him to be anything but that.
Which I had succeeded in. Still, I know there are many men who view women as docile and weak, unable to fend for themselves or run a mafia.
Declan isn’t like that though. He never doubted me, my strength, or my capabilities.
His concern for my well-being and safety came from a place of caring, not dismissal.
“I appreciate that, but the only person who can fully protect myself is me. And even then, there’s no guarantees.
” I sit up straight and place my hand on his shoulders.
“I don’t want to come off as ungrateful for how concerned you are.
Or for your work, helping me to get back on my feet.
If I’m being honest, I can’t truly remember the last time someone made me feel so special, so cared for a lo—”
I stop myself, knowing once I crossed that line, I’d never be able to take it back.
Declan raises an eyebrow, challenging me. “Don’t stop now. Finish that sentence, Zahra.”
“I can’t. You know I can’t. You know why.”
He releases an exacerbated sigh. “No, I don’t know why, so you better tell me why you keep denying yourself. Why you keep denying us. Denying the inevitable. Before I lose my mind.”
“Love makes us fragile. And we can’t afford to be fragile when we’re on the brink of a war and we don’t even know who we’re fighting.”
Declan shakes his head feverishly. “No. You don’t really believe that. I see you, Zahra. Really see you. I see how big your heart is. How much you care for your friends, the members of your empire. Your parents. You’re telling me you didn’t love them?”
“Of course I did,” I bite, “but that just proves my point. When my mom died of a heart attack, I lost a part of myself. I was finally getting to feel normal again after nearly a decade of mourning her when I lost my dad. Now I’m back to feeling empty.
I try to mask the pain. Mask the hole that’s left in my heart from their deaths but I can’t.
It’s still there, and I know it always will be.
Which is why I can’t allow myself to love again.
I can’t weaken myself any more than I already am.
” My voice shakes, demonstrating my exhaustion.
“You. Are. Not. Weak,” he growls, cradling my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him. “You suffered great losses, and you’re hurt. But that does not make you weak.”
I place my hand on his chest, using the beat of his racing heart to ground me.
“You may not think that, because you’re also going through the same thing.
You’ve felt it. A loss so great it rips you into pieces.
But you know the other bosses see it differently.
They view even the slightest indication of sorrow as evidence that we’re wounded prey that they can slaughter at the right time.
Which is why no one can see how much we’re hurting. No one can know the truth.”
Declan’s thumb draws idle circles on my cheek as he looks at me, confused. “I’m not disagreeing with you there, but what I don’t understand is why you would deny yourself happiness, the chance to feel something beyond pain and grief.”
“Because love is dangerous. It’s lethal.
Not only do the people we care about become an even bigger target to our enemies, but once they’re taken from us…
We also feel it all. I deny myself because the next loss I experience might kill me.
The grief of losing my father has suffocated me, and I am terrified of what may happen if another person I love is ripped away from me.
There’s a lot I can handle in this world.
Experiencing physical pain and torture has never bothered me.
But the mental anguish of being alone? I can’t handle it.
” I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to look him in the eyes as I whisper, “Everyone I love dies. Loving me may as well be a curse.”
“Zahra…” Declan’s eyes soften as the emotions on his face shift between confusion to…pity.
Fuck, I hate that. “I don’t need you to feel sorry for me—”
He reels back. “What are you talking about?”
“I see pity on your face. You’re probably thinking, ‘Poor little Zahra. A mafia boss who can’t even handle a few deaths.’” My voice cracks, eyes starting to sting as my stomach turns. Dammit, what the hell is wrong with me? I will not cry. I will not cry.
His grip on my face tightens slightly, not enough to cause me any pain, but it does force me to look at him. Or at least it would if I didn’t squeeze my eyes shut. “Look at me, love.”
I shake my head.
“Please. Zahra. Don’t make me beg.” His voice is rough. Desperate. His thumb moves from tracing my cheek to my jawline.
After a few centering deep breaths, I give in, losing myself in the blueish-green of his irises.
“There you are.” The warmth in his smile settles my racing heartbeat ever so slightly.
“You’re wrong, Zahra. I don’t pity you. I understand you.
I know exactly what you mean about carrying the weight of losing someone.
The lingering fear that another person you love can be taken from you at any moment.
The harsh reality that no matter how hard you try, you can’t shield anyone from death.
I always thought my father was some untouchable, unbeatable force.
And for the most part, he was…until the end.
Losing my father turned my whole world upside down.
Made me question everything. My power, my safety, the future of my mafia.
My ability to take care of those I love. ”
Leaning my forehead against his, I whisper, “How did you get past it?”
“I haven’t yet. It still haunts me every day.”
“Do you think it will go away? The pain? The fear?” I search his eyes for any answer.
“I think it’ll get quieter. And over time, we’ll barely realize it’s there.
But I don’t know if it can ever fully leave us.
” His gaze falls to my lips. “Which is why we shouldn’t deny ourselves what we want.
Just because loss and pain are inevitable doesn’t mean we have to stop ourselves from feeling joy. Stop ourselves from experiencing love.”
He sounds so sure. And though I can admit his reasoning was sound, the voice in the back of my head telling me to keep my guard up is screaming at me in full force. “I hear you. But it feels too risky…”
“Everything we do in this life is a risk. Some just pay off more than others,” Declan counters, as if he can sense I’m on the verge of breaking. On the verge of giving in to all the tension that has been building up since the moment we first met. “Why if we try?”
“Try?” I ask breathlessly.
“Try having a real relationship. A real marriage. One where we stop denying our feelings for each other, and just live.”
“Just live,” I repeat, the words sounding practically foreign to me. Even when my identity had been hidden from the world, and I had pretended to be a normal kid, in the back of my mind I always knew who I was. What my future would entail.
“So, what do you say?” Declan’s tongue peeks out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip as his thumb traces mine.
“I say y—”
I’m cut off by the loud BANG of our front door being thrown open and slammed against the wall, followed by shouting coming from our security.
I move onto my feet, ignoring the searing pain from my injured ankle.
Declan whips his Glock out immediately and stands up in front of me, blocking me from anyone who may come in.
I reach for the one I tucked away behind one of the couch pillows in case of emergencies.
Both of us aim our guns at the entryway as frantic footsteps approach.
Connor’s voice is the first I can make out. “SIR, STOP. You cannot go any closer—”
“I’LL DO WHAT I DAMN WELL PLEASE. I’M THE SECOND IN COMMAND OF THE GODDAMN MAFIA. NO MATTER WHAT SOME STUFFY LAWYER TELLS ME!” Declan’s uncle shouts back in return, the walls shaking with his anger.
He stalks into the room a moment later, revolver dangling from his hand, and rage filling his eyes as he glances between Declan and me.
“What the fuck have you two done?”