Page 6 of Taken By the Mobster

Declan stared at her, which put her on edge. Was he staring at her because he remembered who she was, or was it because he was going to kill her? Maybe he was wondering how messy it would be if he sliced her open and let her bleed out on the floor. Instead, he sat calmly in front of her.

“You’re a widow,” he said. He scratched the side of his nose. “What about your parents?”

It was obvious Declan didn’t remember her. Which meant there was no way she would tell him who her parents were. “My parents are dead,” she lied.

“So, you’re all alone,” Declan said coldly.

A lump rose in her throat, and angry tears burned in the corner of her eyes. “Thank you for your sympathy,” she snapped. This wasn’t the Declan she had once loved; this Declan was a monster, a man who obviously understood nothing about pain and loss. “How many people have you murdered? How many wives and children have you left without a husband or a father? I’ve heard all the stories about you. All of them.”

Olivia put her head in hands and dragged in a deep breath. Somehow, after everything she had gone through, she ended up with a man just like the one she had run away from. She rubbed her eyes and stared at the man across from her. Declan wasn’t the person she remembered. No surprise: it had been eight years since they’d last seen each other.

Declan shook his head, his expression unreadable. His jaw twitched, and his lips tightened. She saw his throat move as he swallowed and took a deep breath.

The room was silent as they stared at each other: the only sound the mumbles of the men on the other side of the door, a car engine, and a slamming door on the other side of the house.

“What’s your name?” Declan asked, breaking the silence.

For the first time in three years, she wanted to use her family name, scare him into releasing her. He would remember her then. Knowing her luck, it would backfire, and she’d get herself killed sooner rather than later. She had to be smart.

She cleared her throat. “Olivia Miller. And you’re Declan Quinn.” She tried to sound confident, but her voice wavered, and she couldn’t look into his green eyes.

“You know who I am,” he stated.

A sharp knock at the door drew his attention away from her. He rose slowly to his feet and yanked open the door. “What?”

“He’s here,” the stocky man at the door replied. “His car just turned into the drive.”

“Shit.” Declan’s back straightened, and he squared his shoulders. He swung around and pointed a finger at Olivia. “If you want to stay alive, do not move and do not make a sound. For Christ’s sake, do not even breathe loud.” He disappeared through the door, slamming it behind him and throwing the lock, shouting orders at his men. A minute later, another door opened and closed, and an eerie silence settled over the house.

Chapter 4

Olivia

Olivia hesitated only a moment after Declan left the room before she rose to her feet. She rubbed her sore wrists as she crossed the room to pull back the flimsy, dust-covered curtain. She peered out, careful to stay out of sight of whoever was driving up. Declan sounded serious when he told her to stay quiet. She needed to know why.

Parked in the driveway was a large, red SUV. Two men in expensive suits stood beside it while another sat in the backseat with the door open. All she could see were his feet. Declan’s men faced the car, their backs to the house. Declan joined them a few seconds later. Their quiet voices drifted through the air, but she couldn’t hear them well. She carefully eased open the window a few inches, as she needed to hear what they said.

“Where’s my brother?” Declan asked.

A short, balding man in a black suit stepped out of the SUV. Olivia gasped and stepped away from the window, shoving herself into the corner. She moaned and shook her head.

This can’t be happening.

The man who had stepped out of the SUV was Clyde Braniff; Olivia knew him well. If he knew she was alive, if he knew she was here, he would mow down everyone in his path to possess her.

Fear twisted around her heart, and her blood ran cold. Declan scared her, but Clyde absolutely terrified her. If Declan told Clyde she was his prisoner, or God forbid, if Declan gave her to Clyde, death would be just around the corner.

Olivia bent over, put her hands on her knees, and dragged in several deep breaths. She had to calm down and could not freak out. Glancing around the room, she tried to find a way out while everyone was distracted. The door was locked, leaving the window as her only option. With no escape in sight, she was trapped. She pushed her fear aside and looked out the window again, careful to keep herself concealed behind the curtain. Fortunately, the approaching darkness would help hide her.

Please don’t let him see me.

Clyde crossed his arms and looked Declan up and down. “I’m here for my money,” he said. There was a faint Irish lilt in his voice that Olivia remembered well. It sent a chill down her spine to hear it.

Declan nodded to the man beside him, one of the men Olivia saw at the bank, who separated from the group and walked back to the house. Olivia lost sight of him for a minute, but then he reappeared with two bank bags in his hands. He handed them to one of Clyde’s men, who put them in the back of the SUV.

Clyde crossed his arms over his chest. “I understand that you have a visitor. A girl?”

Declan scrubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “No, no visitors. One of the bank employees saw my face and heard my name. But there’s nothing to worry about. I took care of it. I killed her and dumped the body,” he said.

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