Page 71 of Declan

I step into the penthouse, my gaze scanning the room until it lands on something that makes my stomach drop: the notebook.

No. Oh God, no.

I snap my eyes at Declan, panic flooding every nerve. Did he read it? He tilts his head, rolling his shoulders in a slow, deliberate motion. The anger radiating from him feels like a physical weight pressing down on my chest. The moment stretches on, and instinct takes over—I turn to bolt for the elevator.

Before I can even take a step, Flynn's arm wraps around my waist, locking me in place like an iron band.

"Let me go!" I yell, fighting his hold, desperation flooding my voice. "Please, Flynn!" But he doesn't care. Of course, he doesn't.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Flynn mutters under his breath, effortlessly hauling me toward a nearby room. Declan follows silently, his heavy footsteps echoing in the hallway.

I glance back, and the sight of him cracking his tattooed knuckles sends a fresh wave of terror through me. His piercing gaze burns into mine, his jaw tight as if he's barely holding himself back. There's a grimace on his face—what is he going to do? Kill me? Or worse…

I shake, trying to resist as Flynn carries me, but he holds me firmly.

Flynn throws me onto the bed, and I land hard, the mattress bouncing beneath me. Scrambling, I retreat to the headboard, pressing my back into it, trying to blend into the wall to disappear.

The room feels small and suffocating, with dark grey walls that seem to close in around me. The crimson drapes cast eerie shadows, deepening the oppressive atmosphere. There's no escaping this place.

Declan shuts the door with a soft click that feels deafening. He and Flynn take positions on either side of the bed, their towering figures boxing me in. The air in the room is heavy, the silence only broken by the pounding of my heart.

"I told you I'd bring her back safe and sound," Flynn says, his eyes never leaving me.

I snap, fear and anger blending into a volatile mix. "And why did you do that? So Declan can kill me?" My voice cracks, betraying the bravado I'm trying to project.

Declan speaks, his voice low, commanding, and cold. "Did you know?"

The question is razor-sharp, and I know exactly what he's asking. I shake my head, meeting his unyielding gaze. "No," I whisper, the truth trembling in my voice.

"And when we got married?" He leans against the desk next to the bed, crossing his arms, making the fabric strain against his muscles. His jaw ticks as he glares at me with such intensity that my cheeks burn. He's studying me, every move, every word.

"I didn't know anything," I say quietly. "Not until I found that room. When I saw the dates, something clicked, and I needed to know more."

"So you went back to the room," he growls, his voice like gravel, "even though I told you not to."

"I don't deal well with orders," I snap, the words escaping before I can stop them. Flynn chuckles softly, but Declan doesn't react; his face is unreadable.

"Oh, I fucking know that, firecracker," he says, his tone dropping an octave, each word heavier than the last.

He steps closer, his voice quieter but no less deadly. "Were you going to tell me?"

For a split second, his eyes flicker with something unexpected—pain, raw and vulnerable—but it's gone as quickly as it appeared.

"Yes," I say, my voice firm despite the tremor in my hands. "I was going to tell you, but your friends kidnapped me. Remember?"

"Convenient, isn't it?" he counters, his tone accusatory, cutting.

I shake my head, my voice breaking. "I knew it," my chest tightened, and I let out a sigh. "I knew you would never believe me."

I take a deep breath, their eyes fixed on me, but I'm too tired to care anymore. Everything is so complicated, and I don't know what else to do or say.

So, I push away from the headboard, sliding off the bed until my feet hit the cold wooden floor. My legs shake under me, but I stand, and Declan freezes, his eyes rising slightly in surprise.

I take a step toward him, forcing myself to hold his gaze. "Just get it over with," I say, my voice steady. "I'm not going to apologize for something I didn't do. My father did something unthinkable to someone who didn't deserve it. If I had known what he did when you chose me as your wife, I would've run. I would've told my sisters to run. I wouldn't have stayed in your bed."

Tears sting my eyes, but I don't let them fall. "So do whatever you need to do," I say, closing my eyes and bracing for his wrath.

After a long silence, only the sound of our breathing fills the room. Then I hear Flynn sigh. "Dec," he says softly.

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