Page 24 of Declan

I know something is up the moment I walk into the living room. The air is thick with something electric, something dangerous, all radiating from her.

Viviana, in a damn short black dress, sways her hips to some dark, gothic, twisted tune. She is a vision of temptation, every move deliberate, every sway of her body designed to lure us in.

And there is Connor, caught in the middle of her little game. I see the flush in his ears, the way his eyes try to focus on anything else but keeps drifting back to her. He is hooked, and she knows it. Hell, she is thriving on it.

“Want to dance, my sweet brother-in-law?” she asks, her voice smooth as velvet, dripping with challenge. The way she looks at him, the way she moves—it’s a calculated strike, a step in her ongoing chess game with us.

Connor doesn’t answer right away, and that hesitation, that split second of uncertainty, is all she needs to know she has him wrapped around her finger.

Before he can decide, I step in, the room growing colder as I make my presence known. “Enough,” I say, my tone low, cutting through the music like a blade.

Viviana’s eyes met mine, that familiar smirk playing on her lips as if she has just been waiting for me to show up. She doesn’t stop moving, though; if anything, she leans into the music more, letting it flow through her as she challenges me with every sway of her hips.

“Oh, come on, Declan,” she purrs. “It’s just a little fun. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little dance.”

The way she says it, that mocking edge in her tone, makes my blood heat. She was pushing, as always, trying to find that line and dance right on top of it.

“Connor, leave,” I command, not taking my eyes off her.

Connor, clearly relieved, backs out of the room, casting one last lingering look at Viviana before he disappears.

Now, it was just the two of us, the tension in the room coiling tighter with every beat of the music.

“Looks like it’s just you and me,” she says, taking a step closer, her body still moving in time with the music. “Are you going to dance with me, Declan? Or are you going to run away?”

I let the silence stretch between us, letting her think she has the upper hand and is the one calling the shots.

But then I step forward, closing the distance between us in an instant. My hand reaches out to grip her wrist, halting her movement. “You want a dance?” I whisper, my voice deadly calm as I pull her closer, our bodies almost touching. “You think you can play this game with me and win?”

Her breath hitches slightly, but that damn smirk never leaves her lips. “I think I’ve already won,” she purrs.

I lean in, my lips brushing against her ear as I say, “Not even close.”

Then, without another word, I spin her around, pressing her back against my chest and holding her in place. She tenses, her hands gripping my wrist at her waist, her nails digging into my skin, but I keep my grip firm. My other hand rests on her hip, forcing her to move to the rhythm I set, letting my body grind against hers and praying my cock doesn’t betray me and show her just how much I’m enjoying this.

“You’re in my world now, firecracker,” I murmur, my breath warm against her neck. “My rules. And you’re about to find out just how dangerous it can be, especially if you double-cross me… wife.”

She stiffens, the playful edge in her demeanour faltering for just a moment. But I feel it—that crack in her armour—and I know she feels it too.

I keep her pressed to me, her scent filling my senses like an intoxicating embrace destined to drag me straight to hell. I see the goosebumps rising on her soft skin, her chest heaving as I grind against her body, my thumb tracing slow circles on her hip bone.

It’s taking every ounce of my control not to let my cock rise to attention. Still, the moment her breath catches, I release her abruptly, stepping back as the music continues to play.

She turns to face me, her expression unreadable, but I can see the wheels turning in her mind. She’s recalculating, and reassessing, and that’s exactly where I want her—off balance, uncertain.

“Careful, Viviana,” I warn, my voice low and dangerous.

With that, I turn and walk away, leaving her standing there. As I step into the hallway, I release a breath; it took every ounce of restraint to keep my blood from running south. “Fucking firecracker,” I mutter under my breath.

Heading to the dining table, I find my brothers already seated, Kian ensuring our younger brother is up to date on the new suspicions. Before I can say anything, I hear her heels clicking on the marble floor. Silently, I take a seat and nod to Connor.

They know better than to speak of anything sensitive when she’s present—especially now.

I watch her closely as she enters the dining room, her steps deliberate, as though she’s already calculated every move. Viviana is all about strategy, always finding ways to get under our skin. But when she bypasses the seat next to Kian and heads straight for the one across from me, I know she’s making a point.

She sits, and the new maid immediately moves to reset her plate. The girl’s trembling, clearly scared out of her mind, and I don’t blame her. This house doesn’t exactly breed comfort.

Rose vouched for the girl—she’s part of Rose’s family—and if Rose trusts her, so do we.

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