Page 9 of Taken By the Mobster

Things hadn’t been so bad at first; Clyde was out of the country on an extended home visit to Ireland, so her first two months at the compound were without his presence. She was taken aback by the kindness Donovan Muldoon showed her. He gave her a suite of rooms on the west end of the mansion and left her alone. She could leave the compound to eat, go shopping, and, of course, plan her wedding, as long as her bodyguard was with her.

Her bodyguard was Tommy Byrne, the man she sometimes said was her husband. They became friends, inevitable when two people spent as much time together as they did. It wasn’t long before Tommy declared his love for her.

Olivia never encouraged Tommy’s feelings, but she didn’t discourage them either. She realized having Tommy on her side would be beneficial but never realized just how much. So, she flirted with him and played up the unhappy woman bit. It was a shame she didn’t understand how close to the truth it was until it was too late.

It wasn’t until Clyde came back from his visit to Ireland that Olivia realized how desperate her situation had become. Clyde wasn’t back for a full week before he hit her the first time. She spilled a glass of red wine on the dining room table, staining the white tablecloth. Olivia apologized, noting that Donovan didn’t care about one ruined tablecloth. Once they left the dining room, Clyde backhanded her and scolded her like a child.

It came as a shock. She was the daughter of an O’Reilly; no one had ever dared to lay a finger on her. Her father would kill any man who hurt her. Things only got worse; to Clyde, Olivia wasn’t human. She was his property to do with as he pleased. And that was exactly what he did.

After he raped her the first time, he beat her bloody and left her on the floor of her bathroom. He didn’t stop there; he came to her room three or four times a week and forced himself on her every time. The sick bastard liked it when she fought back. Clyde took from her whenever and however he wanted.

However, Olivia refused to let him break her.

Clyde took her phone, isolating her and making it impossible for her to contact her family. He kept her locked in her room for extended periods of time, lying to Donovan about where she was and what she was doing. The bruises and marks got harder to hide until even Donovan Muldoon noticed them. After a while, Tommy noticed them and did something about it.

The door swung open, interrupting her thoughts. The big ugly guy, the one who threw her in this room, stepped inside, dropped a plate of food on the table, then turned and left, slamming the door closed behind him.

Olivia threw off the quilt and climbed out of the bed. The sandwich looked edible, and the carrot sticks seemed fresh, so she sat in the chair at the table and picked at the food. What she wouldn’t give for a cup of coffee.

She glanced at the door. Last time she was a prisoner, Tommy had swooped in and rescued her, taking her away from the pain and heartbreak. This time, Olivia would have to rescue herself.

Tired of sitting in one spot, Olivia crossed to the window and pulled the curtain aside. The world outside was an odd orangish-brown color, thanks to the setting sun and overcast sky. There was nothing around for miles, no other buildings aside from the house and a large, red barn. There was only one road leading to the house and fields as far as she could see. Not only was it overcast, but it was cold as well. She could feel the chill seeping through the shoddily built walls and the poorly sealed window.

It had been a little over twenty-four hours since Declan took her from the bank. She didn’t know what he wanted or what his intentions were. All she knew was she had to figure out a way out of this place. Olivia couldn’t wait around to see what he would do, whether he would give her to Clyde or choose to kill her. Not that it mattered; either way, she was dead.

A dark-colored SUV turned onto the dirt road leading to the house. Olivia watched as it approached and came to a stop in front of the house. Declan climbed out of the driver’s side, while the other two men climbed out of the back seat. They went around to the back, unloaded several bags, and carried them into the house. Their voices filled the front room.

Olivia went back to the bed and sat down. She stared at the wall, counting the small, pink flowers on the shabby wallpaper and letting her mind drift.

It wasn’t easy to stay in the booth, not when Declan was only a few feet away. She missed him so much it hurt. She crossed her fingers and squeezed her eyes shut, praying Declan would do the right thing.

“You need to stay away from Liv, Mr. Quinn,” Grady McCarthy, her father’s second-in-command, said.

“I can’t do that. I love her,” Declan replied.

Olivia’s heart skipped a beat. He loved her.

Grady snorted. “That doesn’t matter. You need to stay away from here. Her father’s orders.”

“What if I don’t?” Declan asked.

Grady’s voice dropped an octave. “You will regret it.” There was a pause, then Grady continued. “Look, Declan, don’t make this harder than it has to be. You work for the Muldoons. Did you really think Sean O’Reilly would let you ride off into the sunset with his daughter? Walk away now, and nothing will happen. Liv will find someone else and you, well, Declan, you will get to live. Understood?”

Grady pushed himself out of the booth. Olivia ducked her head, but before she knew what was happening, Grady took her arm, dragged her out of her seat, and pushed her through the restaurant in front of him. She glimpsed Declan sitting in their booth, an angry scowl marring his handsome face.

“Forget about him, Liv,” Grady said. “Or he’s history.”

Olivia sighed and put her head in her hands. Even if Declan remembered her, did he remember the words he said that day? Did he remember he said he loved her? Because she had never forgotten.

She got to her feet and paced the room. Declan wasn’t the same man she had loved when she was nineteen years old. He was cold, impersonal, frightening. He worked for Clyde Braniff and if he knew who she was, he would turn her over to him. She couldn’t let him know. Any feelings she might still have for him had to be pushed down deep and ignored. It was the only way she could stay safe.

Chapter 6

Declan

Olivia was on her feet when he opened the door. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him.

“What are you going to do with me?” she asked. Or maybe demanded was a better way of putting it. She was on fire, ready to do battle. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with a fired-up, angry woman today. Especially since he still wasn’t sure what he was going to do with her.

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