Page 31 of Declan

I step forward, fury burning through me. “The Russians will come for her. And I’m the only one who can protect her.”

“The same way you protected your fiancée?” His words spit out like venom, and I launch myself at him. He lands a punch,but before he can swing again, I drive my fist into his ribs, hearing the sickening crack of bone beneath my knuckles.

“Tell me where she is!” I’m ready to rip him apart with my bare hands.

“They found her!” Kian’s voice slices through the chaos, his phone pressed to his ear. “The Russians. Connor intercepted an informant with the Flannagans.”

“Fuck!” I grab Carlos by his shirt, yanking him closer. Panic flares in his eyes—the kind that says he knows what’s coming. If the Russians reach her first, she’ll be dead within minutes. “Where is she?!”

He gasps for air, blood bubbling up as he coughs. “The Harper warehouse.”

“The burnt-out building on the north side of the docks?” Why the hell would she go there? It’s close to our territory. Dangerous.

“There’s a boat,” he croaks. “Passes by every night. Rich kids use it to get drugs. She’s supposed to steal it, get out of here.”

I release his shirt, wiping my bloody hand on a jacket draped over a chair. “We need to move. Now. Before the Russians get to her.”

“And him?” Kian points at Carlos. My fury still boils, but there’s something in his eyes—the worry, the way he protected her.

“Let him live,” I grunt. Our eyes lock. He nods, his pleading gaze aimed not at me but at Viviana.

Seconds later, we’re on the bikes, tearing through the streets. Tires screech as we push the engines to their limit. Connor’s already en route with some of our men, barking orders when we arrive at the warehouse. “If it’s not her,” he snaps, “shoot to kill.”

We arm ourselves and slip into the skeletal remains of the burnt-out building. Four floors of ash and rubble—perfect for hiding. We move silently, communicating with nothing butsignals, the way we’ve done since we were kids. This is what we do: hunt, search, kill.

A noise. To the left, up the stairs. I lead, catching a glimpse of a face—just a second, but it’s one of Koslov’s men. I sprint, firing a shot between his eyes before he can react. Behind me, two more shots ring out, and Connor’s whistle pierces the air. He got one, too.

We reach the top floor. Another man stands there, his gun trained on something just out of sight. “Hey, fucker,” I growl.

He turns his head toward me, but his gun stays aimed. I step around the pillar—and there she is. Viviana. My fucking wife.

A bandage covers her forehead, her entire body clad in black like a panther ready to strike. Fierce. Unbroken. Her gun is trained on the Koslov’s man, her stance cold and lethal.

“Viviana,” I say, my voice low but sharp, cutting through the tension. It’s enough to pull her gaze from the enemy, bringing her focus to me.

“You shoot me, I shoot her,” the arsehole snarls, his voice trembling, struggling to hold control.

I grin, unfazed. “No, you won’t.” Without hesitation, I fire. The bullet shatters his hand before he can react, and Kian swiftly puts a bullet in his head.

“Sir!” one of the guards calls, a sharp warning in his tone.

I turn, seeing all my men with guns trained on Viviana. Her gun, however, is aimed directly at me.

“Guns down!” They hesitate for a split second. “Now!” They lower their guns. “Leave,” I rasp. Slowly, cautiously, the men step back. I see Kian and Connor lower their guns, though their fingers still hover near the triggers—coiled, ready.

I dismiss the guards, ordering them to clear the floor. Now, it’s just the four of us.

“Viviana, put the fucking gun down.” I take a step closer, my voice hard, trying to ground her, to break through whateverstorm is brewing behind her eyes. Her hands tremble ever so slightly.

“That’s not going to happen, Declan.” She stares at me, her eyes filled with shadows, but there’s no fear—just raw, pure pain.

“Don’t be stupid, Viv,” I warn, stepping closer. “Even if you hit me, they’ll shoot you the second you pull the trigger.”

“You think I care?” Her voice cracks, trembling with the weight of her words. “I have no one. You… my father… I’m just a pawn. And your fiancée… The nightmare, Alek!”

“What the fuck do Elva or even Alek have to do with this?” I freeze. Her words hit like a punch to the gut. My fists clenched, every muscle coiled, ready.

“Nothing!” She shakes her head violently. I see Kian and Connor shift forward. She notices, turning her wild eyes on them. “Don’t!”

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