Chapter 18
brONX
Waking up with Tierney's naked body pressed against mine should feel like a victory.
But it really feels more like I'm fucked.
She's still asleep, face buried in my neck, one leg thrown over my hips like she owns me. A half smirk lifts my lips. She’d hate it if she could see herself right now.
Her breathing is soft and even, and she looks nothing like the hellcat who clawed up my back in the shower yesterday.
My dick's already hard again just thinking about it. The way she fought me, the way she finally surrendered, the sounds she made when I was buried deep inside her.
But lying here in the quiet, all I can think about is how she looked at me afterward. Not like I'd just fucked her senseless. Like maybe she was starting to trust me.
And then she disappeared into Connor’s apartment for the rest of the night like she couldn’t stand to be around me.
Because we both know what flared bright under that hot spray. And it doesn’t look like either of us wants to acknowledge it. Yet.
“Shit,” I mutter, extracting myself from the bed without waking her.
Coffee first. Then I need to figure out how to complete this mission without completely crushing the woman I'm starting to care about more than I should.
Twenty minutes later, I'm dressed and caffeinated, staring at my laptop screen like it holds the answers I need. My orders from Kingston haven’t changed. Get Declan to hand over the stolen intel and use whatever leverage I can.
I let out a sigh and rake a hand through my hair. Maybe there's another way. Maybe if I dig deeper into the Blake organization, I can find pressure points on Declan that don't involve fucking over his daughter.
I pull out my phone and call Reign.
“It's barely eight in the morning,” he grunts. “This better be good.”
“I need your help with something. Can you meet me at the office?”
“What kind of help?”
“The kind that requires your specialized hacking skills.”
There’s a pause. “This is about your wife, isn’t it?”
I grit my teeth. “This is about finding dirt on Declan Blake. So we know his full story.”
“I'll be there in an hour.”
I peek into the bedroom before I leave. The sheets are knotted around Tierney’s ankles, her head buried in the pillows and her hair fanned out around her.
My cock twitches when she shifts and the sheet lifts to reveal the curve of her ass cheek.
I give my head and shake and close the door before I allow myself to get completely derailed. Reign's already at our office building in Midtown when I arrive.
He sits behind a desk with three monitors and enough processing power to hack into the Pentagon.
“So,” he says, not looking up from his screens. “What's got you looking for alternatives? Thought the mission was going perfectly.”
I drop into a chair next to him. “It is. I mean, I’m working on it.”
“And?”
“And maybe I just want to see if there are other ways to pressure Declan for the intel.”
Reign leans back in his chair and turns to study me. “You're getting attached, aren’t you?”
I shrug. “I'm just exploring all options. I want to know how desperate he really is.”
“Yup. Like I said, you're getting attached,” he repeats, grinning. “This is gonna be interesting.”
“Fuck off,” I scoff. “Can you help me or not?”
“What exactly are we looking for?”
“Everything we can find on Declan Blake's organization. I want to know who his enemies are, what his business operations and financials look like, shit like that. There’s got to be something we can use as leverage that doesn't involve manipulating Tierney.”
Reign cracks his knuckles and turns to his keyboards. “Okay. Let's see how fucked daddy Blake really is.”
For the next two hours, we dive deep into Declan's world. Financial records, shipping manifests, communication intercepts, surveillance reports from our Dublin contacts. And the picture ain’t a pretty one.
“Look at this,” Reign says, pulling up a series of bank transfers. He points at the screen. “Declan's been hemorrhaging money for months. Moving funds around like he's trying to stay ahead of something.”
“Tribunal retaliation? Threats about Connor?”
“Maybe. And check out these shipping records. Three of his major routes have been hit in the past six weeks. Product stolen, drivers beaten, operations shut down.”
I narrow my eyes at the data, my gut twisting. “Why haven’t we heard about any of this? Why wouldn’t he look to us to step in? Based on all of this, the marriage can’t all be about protecting Connor, not if his organization is in shambles.”
“Someone's been taking apart his organization piece by piece.” Reign pulls up another screen. “And look at this communication intercept from our guys in Dublin. Declan had been reaching out to other crime families before Tierney’s vault break-in, trying to negotiate protection deals before he came to us.”
“And all of them turned him down?”
“From what I can tell, yeah. Most of them, anyway. The few who'd consider it wanted valuable intelligence in exchange. Now that he has it…he’s got leverage to do what he wants.”
I grit my teeth. That motherfucker has enough on us to play us against our enemies and allies.
“Based on all of this, he doesn't just want protection for Connor from the Tribunal. He wants protection for his entire operation, and he had been whoring himself out before the break-in, dangling the possibility to access intel that can feed those other families more power. I guess that’s why he sent Tierney in.”
I lean back, mind racing. If there are enemies hitting Declan this hard, that gives us serious leverage. We could threaten to cut him loose completely, let them finish him off. Whoever they are. The Tribunal may be after him for the vault break-in but clearly there are others.
“This could work,” I mutter.
“What could work?”
“We threaten to end the protection arrangement entirely. Tell him we're withdrawing protection from Connor and from his operations. Let the Tribunal or his other enemies have him.”
Reign nods slowly. “He'd hand over the intel in a heartbeat rather than lose everything.”
And I wouldn't have to manipulate Tierney's feelings to get it.
But I keep that part to myself.
“There's just one thing that doesn't add up,” Reign says, his fingers flying over the keyboard.
“What?”
Reign pulls up another file. “The surveillance patterns. The teams that followed Tierney and Connor in the park.”
“What about them?”
“The tactics definitely don't match known Tribunal methods. Too sloppy, too visible. Tribunal's usually more subtle. And if they wanted to take Connor and Tierney out, they’d already be dead.”
I frown. “Maybe the surveillance wanted to be seen. To send a message?”
“Maybe. In any case, there's more than one player in this game.” Reign lifts an eyebrow. “That makes a hell of a lot more sense, knowing what we do about the Tribunal.”
I grip the arms of the chair. “Who do you think it can be?”
Reign shrugs. “People who want him dead for reasons that have nothing to do with the vault break-in. The Tribunal doesn’t pussy foot around. They break shit, fast and hard.”
I scrub a hand down the front of my face. “That would explain the financial pressure. Multiple threats hitting him from different angles.”
“Yeah. The question is, do we need to worry about these other enemies, too? Or just focus on the Tribunal threat? Declan made it clear he needs to protect Connor from the Tribunal, and that was his bargaining chip when the marriage talk started. He needed us to protect his son. Of course, he’d never want to air his dirty laundry with his future in-laws. ”
Shit. We’re potentially chasing multiple enemies and threats right now. And Declan has been holding out on us, based on what Reign dug up.
“Keep digging,” I say. “Declan sure as hell isn’t gonna tell us what we want to know, and based on what you just found, there’s a lot he’s keeping from us for some reason.
Once we figure out who’s got his dick in a vice, we can deal with the situation our way.
Find any leverage you can. We need a leg up on him if we’re gonna get that intel back. ”
“And if we can't?”
My mind trips back to Tierney in my bed, how she’d felt pressed against me, how she looked at me in the shower, how she let her guard down for the briefest time.
My jaw tenses. “Then we figure out a plan B.”
Reign's quiet for a moment. “What if Kingston tells you to stand down and stick with the original plan? He’s not going to want a war just because you’ve got a hard-on for your wife.”
“Don’t worry. I'll deal with Kingston when the time comes.”
Reign rolls his eyes. “That's not an answer.”
“It's the only answer I've got right now.” I stand up and before I walk out the door, I stop and turn. “Reign?”
"Yeah?" He looks up at me, his fingers still typing.
“Thanks. For helping with this.”
“Don't thank me yet. You might not like what we find.”
“Just keep it between us for now, yeah?” I say.
He nods and gives me a little salute before returning his eyes to the screens.
The drive back to the penthouse gives me time to think. If we can get enough information about the threats against Declan, maybe we can put pressure on him to give up the intel on our family. And then I won't have to play Tierney against him.
I won't have to watch the trust in her eyes turn to betrayal when she finds out what I've been doing all while trying to convince her that whatever is happening between us isn’t total bullshit.
But the annoying as fuck voice in the back of my head keeps saying this is too simple. Too clean.
And in my experience, things are never as easy as they seem.
When I get back, Tierney is in the kitchen making coffee. She’s dressed in jeans, a sweater, and a pair of Ugg boots looking like she's planning to bolt. Her hair's pulled back tight, and she doesn't bother to look up when I walk in.
“Going somewhere, princess?”
“Out.” She doesn't elaborate, just pours coffee into a to-go cup.
“That's specific.”
“I'm going to check on Connor.” Her tone could cut glass. “Unless you have a problem with that too.”
“No problem, except you spent pretty much all last night with him. How much bonding do you need to do?”
She finally looks at me, and her expression is pure ice. “Since when do I report to you?”
“Since you're under protection.”
“From who? The big bad world, or from making my own decisions?” But she doesn’t address my dig at her disappearance after our shower sexcapade.
I lean against the counter, studying her. Everything about her screams ‘fuck off’ - the rigid posture, the clipped responses, the way she won't look me in the eyes.
“You're in a mood,” I say, folding my arms over my chest.
“I'm always in a mood. You just don't usually care enough to notice.”
“Maybe I'm paying more attention now.”
“Don't bother.” She moves toward the door, coffee in hand. “Whatever you think happened yesterday—”
I reach for her arm. “Wait, what do I think happened?”
She stops, spine stiffening. But she still won’t look at me. “Nothing happened.”
“Nothing? You sure about that?”
“It was nothing worth discussing,” she snaps.
“Oh yeah? Because I distinctly remember you screaming my name. Sounds pretty worthy of a discussion to me.”
She finally looks up. Her cheeks flush a deep red, but her glare could melt steel. “You're an asshole.”
“And you're a liar.”
“I'm not lying.”
“You're lying to yourself, which is worse.” I push off the wall, moving closer. “Pretending you didn't feel anything when you know you’re full of crap.”
Her blue eyes flash. “I felt an orgasm. Congratulations, you have basic competency of intercourse.”
My lips lift into a smirk. “Just basic?”
She rolls her eyes and lets out a huff. “Don't push your luck.”
But there's heat in her narrowed gaze now, the fire I've been waiting for. “You're scared.”
“Please. I'm not scared of anything.”
“No? Then why are you running away from me right now? Why’d you run yesterday?”
“I'm not running. I'm walking. Like a normal person who has things to do.”
“Sure you are.” I crowd her against the wall, and she holds her ground like always. “You're scared because you liked it. Liked letting go, liked not being in control for once.”
“Go to hell,” she says through gritted teeth.
“Been there. Wasn't impressed.” My voice drops. “You can pretend all you want, Tierney. But I know what you sound like when you stop fighting.”
For a second, something flickers in her expression. Not softness, not even close. But maybe... uncertainty. Like she remembers exactly what I'm talking about and hates herself for it.
Then the walls slam back down.
“Enjoy the memory,” she says coolly. “It won't happen again.”
“We'll see about that.”
“No, we won't. Because I never make the same mistake twice.”
She shoves her hands against my chest and pushes past me toward the door. I let her go this time. But I call after her.
“Tierney.”
She stops but doesn't turn around.
“It wasn't a mistake.”
She pauses for a long minute. “Yes, it was.”
“Why? Because you enjoyed it, or because you enjoyed it with me?”
She doesn't answer, just walks out and slams the door closed behind her.
But the way her hands are clenched into fists tells me everything I need to know.
She's fighting this as hard as I am. The difference is, she's losing.
And that should make me feel like I'm winning.
Instead, it just makes me want to follow her and make her admit there was more to it than just sex.
Smart woman. Too fucking smart for her own good.