Page 101 of Declan

The lingering smell of gunpowder and smoke chokes my throat. The ringing in my ears won’t stop. It all happened so fast.

A couple of hours after Declan left with Kian, Connor came running. The cameras were out, and most of the guards weren’t responding. We knew what that meant: Alek was coming for me.

Connor locked me in his room on the top floor, trying to keep me safe for as long as he could. I could hear the sounds of men shouting, gunfire, and the rumble of explosions shaking the windows. The chaos is overwhelming.

Then, someone kicked the door down.

I grabbed the gun Declan had given me and fired at the first man through the door. He dropped to the ground. But before I could react, two more rushed in, shouting in Russian. The taller one grabbed my arm.

“We are here to save you,” he said with a thick accent.

Save me? Did they really believe that? To be fair, I had pretended I was being held at Declan’s mansion against my will, but I didn’t expect Alek to send his men after me. Now it makes sense why my father didn’t invite me to dinner. He needed Callaghan out of the house.

Declan was right.

I snap back to the present as the car jolts over what feels like a gravel road. My stomach churns. I hope Connor is safe. I didn’t see him during the attack.

This is taking forever. The motion sickness hits harder now. God, please.

Finally, the car stops. I hear muffled voices in Russian, and then the trunk opens. Bright light floods in, blinding me for a moment. I squint, trying to adjust. The tall man offers a hand to help me out, and I take it, still struggling to steady myself.

Looking around, I’m stunned.

A wooden house, tucked away in the middle of the woods, surrounded by tall trees whose branches drape with leaves, almost completely camouflaging the structure. At a distance, it would be impossible to spot.

“Viviana,” a husky voice calls from behind me.

A chill runs down my spine as I turn. There he is—Alek Koslov.

He’s changed. Broader now, but the sandy hair, pale skin, and deep blue eyes remain the same. Only now, they’re rougher. Meaner. He smirks as he stops in front of me, his gaze shamelessly roaming over my body, lingering on my breasts without any subtlety. I feel bile rising in my throat.

He licks his lips. “You still look amazing.”

I stare at him, taking in the differences between the Alek I knew over ten years ago and the man standing before me now.

His tight T-shirt clings to every muscle and military pants and boots complete the look. Tattoos snake up his arms, adding to the danger that always seemed to hover around him. Back then, he was dangerous.

Now? He looks like a beast—a coyote poised to strike.

“Alek,” I begin, but one of his men cuts me off.

“She killed one of ours!” the man yells, pointing at me. “And shot Ivan, too!”

Alek smiles, his eyes never leaving mine. “How the hell did a 5’3” girl kill a trained soldier?” He glances lazily at the guard.

The guard shrugs and faces a storm of rage.

“Muscles don’t equal intelligence,” I retort flatly.

“Oh, really?” The guard strides toward me, but a gunshot rings out. Blood blooms across his chest, just above his heart. His face drains of colour, and he crumples to the floor.

My mouth drops open. I look at Alek, who’s still holding the gun, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“Asshole,” Alek deadpans before turning to me. “Shall we?” He extends his hand.

It takes a moment to process what just happened. I swallow hard, then take his hand. Together, we step over the guard’s body, doing my best to avoid touching him.

“Never liked him,” Alek mutters with a shrug.

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