Page 19 of Declan

The guard hesitates before replying, “Yes, sir.”

Hanging up, I run a hand through my hair. She’s relentless. Fuck!

Taking a deep breath, I focus on the matter at hand. “Any news on the Kozlovs?”

Kian’s tone shifts. “Nothing yet.”

“What?” I ask, catching the hesitation in his voice.

“There was a breach in the security cameras before the warehouse went up in flames. The guards didn’t see anyone who didn’t belong there—just them and one of Morelli’s men.”

I frown. “You think Giovanni would destroy his own property?”

“It’s not his anymore,” Kian reminds me. “It’s yours.”

Giovanni Morelli is controlling and manipulative. We need to keep an eye on him.

Chapter 6

Viviana

My family house, the Morelli estate, is big, and the gardens are enormous—but the Callaghan estate is ridiculous. Each of the brothers has his own floor. Declan is on the first floor, as am I. Kian is on the second, and Connor is on the third. Each floor is complete with three bedrooms, a library, an office, and a living room.

On the ground floor, there’s a massive ballroom, a living room large enough to fit a rugby team, the kitchen, and the main office where they spend most of their days. There’s also a clinic and a gym on the east side.

The mansion has a beautiful gothic aesthetic: wooden window frames, dark marble floors, and paintings everywhere, along with pictures of the Callaghan men through the years.

One painting, in particular, catches my attention. I recognize it. It’s on the lake, but the water is deep red. We had one just like it at home. It’s a remembrance of the Dark Wars—the warsthat united the Italians and the Irish when the Russians decided they were tired of sharing the city. No one was safe; even the Callaghans lost their father.

I think that’s when Declan became who he is today. Seeking revenge has been a part of his life since he was young. Not one person was spared. When things finally calmed down, someone killed his fiancée, and all hell broke loose again.

I wonder who had the guts to kill her. I only saw her once, at the opening of the new club owned by the Bradys. She was beautiful—tall, with golden hair and eyes like the sky. I still remember the way he smiled at her. He was a different man back then.

My heart clenches. I can’t imagine what he felt when he saw her body. I shut my eyes at the thought, a ball of sorrow forming in my throat. I loved a guy once. When he left, it broke my heart into a million pieces. I can’t even imagine if someone had killed him… if he was lost forever.

“What are you doing?” A deep voice snaps me back. I blink rapidly, holding back the tears.

“Nothing. Just admiring the artwork.” I brush past him, but he grabs my arm.

His arm muscles tense under the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, and the skulls inked on his arms are mesmerizing. Hints of blood drops accentuate them—markings that, from what I’ve heard, symbolize the people he’s killed with his own hands.

I look up to see him staring at me. “What?” I ask, annoyed.

“Dinner in twenty minutes, Viviana. I want you at the table.” His voice is a low rumble as he releases my arm and continues walking.

At the dinner table, I sit next to Kian, noticing the brothers are more relaxed now. They’re dressed casually in suit pants and black shirts, unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up to reveal inked arms.

Declan is the only one with tattoos on his hands: a black-and-white four-leaf clover on his right hand, with blood drops falling from the leaves. They’re impressive... beautiful, even.

The maid comes in—Rose. She’s a sweet lady, probably around sixty, with long, wavy grey hair, green eyes, and freckles. She must’ve been a knockout back in the day; she still is.

The care between her and the men is obvious. The way they smile gently at her and keep their voices soft is the opposite of how they talk to me, of course.

“What is this?” Declan’s frown almost makes me laugh.

“Dinner, sir,” Rose says, tilting her head toward me.

“I know that. But what is it?” He’s trying so damn hard not to curse at her—it’s adorable. Then his face turns toward me, his expression hardening.

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