Page 105 of Declan

I take a deep breath, gripping her shoulders and pulling her back just enough to meet her gaze. “It’s over, Viviana. Your father too.” I watch her carefully, searching for a reaction. No tears fall, but I see the shadows darkening her eyes, pain, and something heavier lurking beneath.

“And…” She hesitates, her voice trembling as the shadows deepen. “Silvana? Bruna?”

I hold her gaze, steady and sure. “I told you I wasn’t going to hurt them. For you.” But doubt flickers in her eyes, and I see the fear clawing its way out.

“But Alek said…” Tears stream down her face, and I reach up to wipe them away with my bloodied hand. “He said you killed them both. He… he had cameras outside the house.”

That little bastard. I’ll make him suffer for this, for making her think I’d break my word.

“She’s at the mansion, Viviana. Waiting for you. Bruna ran to Italy.” Her eyes search mine, desperate for the truth. “What happens next with them is up to you,” I add. They’ll need a hard conversation. Silvana begged to be the one to tell Viviana about Giovanni, I agreed, but I’ll be there too.

Slowly, the shadows fade from her eyes, replaced by the fiery spark I know so well. She lifts her chin, gripping my face and pulling me close. Our lips crash together, all possession and demand. Her tongue tangles with mine, the coppery taste ofblood from my busted lip mixing between us. She doesn’t pull back, holding me there, her grip unrelenting, demanding more of me.

And I give it to her. Hell, I’d give her my soul if she asked.

As we head toward the mansion, I glance back at the Koslov place engulfed in flames. Part of me regrets losing it; it was well hidden, deep in the woods. It could’ve been useful. But it’s gone now, reduced to ash, like everything tied to Alek.

Viviana clings to me, her weight pressing into my already bruised ribs. It hurts like hell, but I don’t move, don’t push her away. She’s keeping me anchored, holding back the darkness threatening to consume me.

Elva, her life traded for power. She died because of me, to get to me. And Viviana was next. The thought sends a shiver down my spine, and she notices.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, pulling away slightly. “I’m hurting you.” Her hands move to my shirt, fingers brushing over the fabric before gently lifting it. Her gaze falls on my ribs, mottled with deep shades of purple and black. Her fingers trail along the bruises, light as a whisper, and I feel my body soften under her touch.

“You need to go to a hospital,” she says, her voice quiet but firm.

“I’ve got everything I need,” I reply with a wink, keeping my tone low. The truth? My whole body feels like it’s been run over by a freight train. But right now, my mind is fixed on one thing: lying next to her, holding her close, burying myself inside her and hearing her moan my name.

Fuck. That thought alone is keeping me awake. I shake my head, half-regretting I didn’t just shoot Alek in the knee instead of fighting him like a wild animal. But what can I say? I love fighting for what’s mine. And Viviana, along with the Irish Consortium, are fucking mine.

When we arrive at the mansion, my first instinct is to check on our guests. But Viviana grabs my hand, pulling me with surprising force. I follow her, smirking as I imagine what she might have planned for us. The smirk dies when I realize where she’s taking me. The clinic.

She bursts in, shouting for the doctor, who comes running. The room is already filled with injured men, being patched up. “I’m fine,” I mutter, but Viviana cuts me off, speaking over me without giving me a chance to argue. I stay quiet, watching her.

She’s all confidence, control, and fire as she explains the bruises and the fight to the doctor like he needs every detail. The man doesn’t interrupt; smart choice. If he did, I’m sure she’d show him that deadly right hook of hers.

“I said I’m fine,” I say. I trying again, but this time, she raises a finger and presses it against my lips.

“Shush,” she orders, and my eyebrows shoot up. Did she just shush me?

The doctor asks me to sit, but I stay standing, folding my arms. That’s when Viviana plants her hands on her hips and glares at me.

“Sit. Now,” she demands, her tone sharper than a knife. She speaks to me like I’m a misbehaving child, and I have to bite back a laugh.

I don’t know if I want to bend her over the doctor’s table and spank her or just do as she orders. But hell, I find myself sitting anyway, my eyes locked on hers. She doesn’t care. Her expression is resolute, her stance unyielding.

The doctor patches me up as much as I let him; I have shit to take care of. When I walk into the living room, I see Viviana sitting next to Kian.

Her hands fidget in her lap, and she looks uneasy. She’s showered, now in a baggy black shirt and cargo pants, her hairin a ponytail. When her eyes meet mine, she offers me a nervous smile.

Silvana enters with Connor. As soon as their eyes lock, I notice the shadows flickering in Viviana’s gaze. Silvana hesitates, keeping her distance like she knows how easily this can turn to shit.

“I—” Silvana’s voice cracks, tears spilling before she can even finish a sentence. “I didn’t know,” she manages to say.

Viviana doesn’t reply. Her piercing stare stays fixed on her sister while her hands disappear, fidgeting beneath her thighs. I lean against the doorway, silently observing. Kian sits beside Viviana while Connor takes a seat near Silvana. Everyone’s watching Viviana, waiting.

“Our father,” Silvana starts again, correcting herself, “Giovanni… he said you wouldn’t get hurt. At the restaurant, he told me the men there were going to take you to safety.” Her words rush out as if she’s desperate for forgiveness. “And the story of you being the informant? I didn’t find out about it until last night at dinner, I swear.”

Viviana’s cold, steady gaze doesn’t waver. Silvana visibly shivers under the weight of it. After a long pause, Viviana nods once, her face unreadable. “And Elva?” she asks, her voice sharp but calm.

---