Page 43 of Declan

“I... I don’t have anything to do with this, I swear, Declan. I would never hurt anyone. Not like this.” She sounds sincere, but there’s a hint of something unsaid.

“Viviana,” I murmur, my mouth close to her ear. “If you’re lying, I swear I’ll make you scream for days, and it won’t be from pleasure.” I let go of her hand and step back.

She swallows hard, pulling her sleeves down to hide her hands as if that’ll make her secrets vanish. She looks nervous. Scared. But why? If she’s innocent, why does she look like a lost child? What the fuck is going on?

“Declan!” Connor shouts, standing with two men in black suits. I nod, glancing back at Viviana.

“Don’t do something stupid,” I warn, my voice harsher. She needs to understand this isn’t the place for wild ideas. She nods silently, her eyes locked on the flames.

“They say two men were here, not even twenty minutes before the place went up in flames, and guess what?” Connor’s smirk is mischievous, his chest puffing like a damn peacock’s.

I hold his gaze, my patience wearing thin.

“They spoke Italian.”

That gets my full attention. Italian—not Russian. My heart stops, feeling like a knife just sliced through it. The only Italians with any interest here are tied to the Morellis. Which means… damn it!

I glance at Viviana. She hasn’t moved, her face shadowed in the glow of the fire. She looks lost like someone else entirely—not the woman I married.

The two men with Connor work for the Bradys. They were outside, getting into their cars, when they saw two men walking past, talking casually.

Moments later, as they were driving away, they heard the explosion. There was nothing anyone could do; the two bouncers inside didn’t stand a chance.

Connor stays behind, talking to the cops, ensuring the report matches the story we want out there.

Kian stands with the Keffees, who arrived a few minutes ago.

Their eyes shift to Viviana, and Nolan Keffee breaks away, heading straight for her. He plants himself in front of her, his stance confrontational. Still, my fucking firecracker stands her ground, defiant as Lilith herself.

I can’t hear his words, but I know Nolan too well. Viviana’s chin tilts up, her hands closing into fists. She’s about to punch him.

I stride over, grabbing Nolan by his shirt and yanking him back before she breaks his face with that deadly right hand of hers. I threw him to the ground. “Careful, Nolan. If you ever come near my wife like that again, I’ll cut your damn head off.”

I step in front of Viviana, my own hands now clenched into fists. Control is slipping, the urge to snap his neck clawing at me.

Nolan scrambles to his feet, glaring as he takes a step closer, but his cousin grabs his arm. “Not here. Not now,” the man says, calm as if we’re discussing the fucking weather. Nearby, a few cops start to take notice.

“If any of you ever come close to my wife again, it will be the last thing you do,” I growl, my voice low and venomous. “I’ll make sure your next generations feel the pain I unleash on you.”

Both men stare at me, stunned. They should know better. I’m the leader of the Irish Consortium, and Viviana is my wife. No one speaks to her like that and lives another day.

Chapter 14

Viviana

Staring at the ceiling, my mind races with images from a week ago—the body bags, the fire, the smell. I swear I can still smell burnt flesh, or maybe my mind is just playing tricks on me. I can barely sleep. Declan’s been in and out of the house, barely getting a couple of hours’ rest at a time.

I tried to talk to him, but he brushed me off like I had some contagious disease. To hell with him for thinking I had something to do with that. How can he even think that? I might be a lot of things, but a murderer isn’t one of them! I’m not like him or his brothers, damn savages straight out of a Viking movie, ready to kill and take whatever they want.

I’ve been wandering this godforsaken house for days with nothing to do but think. My mind keeps drifting to dark places: my father, that date, the picture of Declan’s girlfriend. I shake my head as my breathing quickens.

I’ve been fighting off this strange feeling, my stomach twisting, my lungs burning every time I try to take a deep breath.

I can’t live like this, but it’s not like I can tell Declan. He already thinks I’m working with the Russians or that I’m somehow single-handedly responsible for all the fires and destruction. Like I’m some kind of Torch Woman who lights things up with a glare.

Then there’s that kiss... The way he kissed me, his warm breath on my neck. God, I can’t let myself go back there. His tattooed, massive hands all over my body, pulling me close—he felt so good.

His body is like a temple, a sexy, forbidden temple that I want to get lost in for hours. His woodsy scent lingers in the back of my mind, the way his muscles tensed under my touch, every inch of him responding to me in a way I’ve never felt before. And, of course, there was that incredible cock pressing against me.

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