Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Bella
The air between Declan and me went tight and strange after my deadly confession.
I came here to poison Frank. I want him dead.
Even the mine seemed to stop creaking and groaning. Like the tunnels themselves were holding their breath, waiting to see what Declan would do with the truth I'd just dropped in his lap.
I didn't move. Didn't speak. If I did, I might fall apart, and I'd spent too many weeks holding myself together and pretending to be normal, when really, I was cracking in two.
Declan stared at me. Not with shock or disgust.
With an intensity that stole my breath. My pulse stuttered as I waited for him to speak.
Clenching his jaw, he looked away, and I followed his gaze to the shattered lift at the bottom of the shaft, where twisted metal jutted out like broken bones.
“Declan,” I said. But I didn't know what else to say, and his name hung there, useless. I'd already said too much. Now he knew exactly what kind of person I was—damaged and dangerous. A woman who had killed once and planned to do it again.
He turned back to me, and I braced for the wrath I deserved. For the disgust that would cross his face once he'd truly processed what I'd confessed. Tiny crystals in the dust on his shoulders caught in the dim lights, giving him a halo effect, making him look heavenly.
His expression was carved from stone; hard, controlled, and terrifying in its stillness. Yet his eyes searched mine, like he was trying to reconcile the woman he'd kissed with the one who'd just confessed to planning murder. Who had already murdered.
“Bella.” My name sounded rough in his mouth as if it hurt to speak. “I can't let you kill him.”
My chest tightened, and heat burned behind my eyes, threatening tears I refused to shed.
Of course, he'd say that. Of course, he'd choose his father over me.
Why had I thought it would be any different?
That amazing kiss we'd shared was just two desperate people clinging to each other in the dark.
And now, reality was stomping on me with giant steel-toed boots.
I'd been stupid to think he'd understand why I wanted revenge.
Stupid to think he might choose me.
I forced a breath into my lungs, fighting the sting in my eyes. “Okay.” The word came out flat. Empty. I'd learned a long time ago how to package my emotions and shove them somewhere they hurt a little less.
Declan's eyes narrowed, and a cold darkness drilled across his face. “I'm going to kill that bastard myself.” He said it so calmly, like he was commenting on the weather rather than threatening murder.
My heart stumbled over its own rhythm. “What?” My brain struggled to catch up. His words didn't make sense. They didn't fit with the man who'd kissed me like he was forging our lives together, even after my confession about Vincenzo. They didn't fit with the decent, honorable man I'd come to know.
“I'm going to kill Frank.” He nodded, like he was convincing himself that murdering his father was the only solution.
“What are you talking about? No!” I clenched my fists, ignoring the sharp sting from my burns.
I didn't deserve to have a decent man like Declan commit murder for me.
My hands were already dirty. One more murder wasn't going to change anything for me.
But it would destroy him. “I won't let you do that for me.”
He scowled like I'd missed the point completely. “I'm not doing it for you.” His voice dropped lower, harder. “I'm doing it for both of us.”
My throat tightened so much I could barely breathe.
I hated how much relief tried to flood through me, right alongside terror.
This was just like a fairytale, the kind where the hero sacrifices everything to save the broken princess.
That terrified me more than anything, because I wasn't worth saving. It was too late for me.
“No, Declan. This isn't your fight. It's mine. I can't let you—”
“Frank sabotaged the mine.” Declan jerked his chin toward the broken lift and severed cable.
Was he just saying that? Inventing a reason to justify killing Frank, trying to save me from carrying another death on my conscience? I swallowed hard, my voice barely a whisper. “You don't know that.”
A sharp breath left him, and anger drilled across his face as if it had been leashed for years and had finally snapped its chain. The tendons in his neck stood out, visible even in the shadows.
“I'm one hundred percent sure.”
Cold spread through my chest. “But he's your father.”
His eyes hardened further, teeth clenching so tight the muscle jumped along his jaw.
“Only one person knew this mine well enough to make it fail without getting caught.” He spoke fast as if needing to get the words out.
“He didn't want me to reopen this place, but I fought him every step of the way.
And when those diamonds were found, someone must've told him.” He drove his hand through his thick hair.
“My own goddammed father didn't want me proving him wrong.
Didn't want me succeeding down here. He needs me to do the books.
That's what he wants—to keep me trapped.”
My mouth went dry. The air in the chamber felt thinner somehow, as if the weight of what he was saying pushed out the oxygen. “Jesus.” I stared at him, searching for any crack in his certainty, any hesitation, any doubt.
There wasn't one.
Just cold, controlled rage that didn't burn hot and wild. It simmered, patient and lethal.
“How can you be sure? He could've killed people.” The idea was too monstrous, even for me. And I'd spent weeks planning to poison that same man. The irony wasn't lost on me.
“Yeah.” Declan's voice went flat. “I think it was pure luck those men didn't die. Pure bloody luck that we pulled them out alive.”
“But why didn't he take the diamonds? Why hide them?” My mind raced, trying to make sense of it. If Frank had sabotaged the mine, why leave evidence of what made it valuable?
He shrugged, and a bitter sneer crossed his mouth. “Uncut diamonds are hard to offload, and I've had dealings with a lot of gem brokers, men who are loyal to me. I would've found out who sold them. Frank's greedy, but he's not stupid.”
“Jesus.” I heaved a breath, my ribs aching. “Frank’s an asshole.”
“That's an understatement.” Declan released a harsh laugh, devoid of humor.
“But still, Declan, I can't let you kill—”
“You're not letting me.” The fire in his gaze stole my breath. The lights flickered, casting shifting shadows across his face and making him look dangerous, nothing like the kind man who'd bandaged my hands. “This is my decision. I own it.”
“But it's not the same.” My voice cracked. “I'm already a murderer.”
“No, you're not.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, closing the distance between us.
“We've been through this. You acted in self-defense. What happens to Frank is between him and me. I want him to know—” His voice broke slightly, the first crack in his composure.
“I want him to know how much I hate him. How much damage he's done.”
My heart pounded so hard it echoed in my ears, drowning out the distant drip of water somewhere in the tunnels. Even after knowing what I'd come here to do, even after I'd confessed to planning murder, he was choosing to protect me.
He's choosing me.
The realization hit like a physical blow.
But I couldn't let him go through with it. Declan was a good man. One of the few I'd ever met. The kind of man who truly listened, showed empathy, and believed in me. The kind whose touch was gentle even when the world wasn't.
I couldn't let him become like me.
My mother's warning blazed through my mind like a neon sign: Stay away from the Bransons. Promise me, Bella. Promise me you'll never set foot on Koolaroo Ranch.
I sat back in the chair, the metal frame creaking beneath me. My mind tried to tackle too many horrors at once. Frank's sabotage. The hidden diamonds. Declan's cold determination to kill his own father.
Yet Declan sat calmly. He wrapped his arm across my shoulders and pulled me against his side, holding me tightly like I was the only sane thing in his world.
I didn't deserve that. I'd brought nothing but chaos to his life—death and secrets and lies.
I didn't deserve him.
My eyes stung with unshed tears. I blinked fast, refusing to cry again. I was done being weak. I needed to be strong. For him. For me. For us.
Declan's gaze dropped to my bandaged hands, and he looked like he wanted to touch me, needed to touch me, but didn't trust himself not to hurt me.
The silence stretched between us, heavy, intimate, and suffocating.
I wanted him to hold me. God, I wanted that more than anything in the world. But I had to know one more thing first. I hated that I needed to ask, but his answer mattered.
I eased back from him and turned so I could see his eyes in the dim light. “What about Rocco and Pike? They’re dead because of me.”
Declan's gaze lifted to mine. He didn't look away. Didn't pretend not to understand what I was really asking.
Are you going to tell anyone about them? About their deaths? Are you going to regret helping me?
“They're dead because of me. I was the one who threw that ax.” His voice was flat and final.
“Declan, that’s not—”
“Nobody needs to know what happened to them. One of them is at the bottom of that mine shaft, crushed beneath a one-ton hopper. The other is beneath a mountain of timber and rocks. That area is too unstable for anyone to go near again. I’ll make sure of it.
Those two will remain trapped in here forever. ”
I should've felt relief. Instead, dread coiled in my stomach.
“Okay. That's good. But still, you can't kill your father.” The words came out steadily, despite the tremor in my chest.
“I can.” His jaw tightened. “And I will.”
“Declan—”