Page 36 of Declan

Isit at the massive table, my fingers tapping lightly on the polished wood as I wait. The sharp click of heels on marble echoes down the hall, growing louder with each step. I draw in a deep breath, steeling myself. This lunch wasn’t my idea. Silvana decided to come on her own, and the thought of disappointing my father by being the so-calledbad sisterwasn’t worth the trouble.

She enters with her usual poise, wearing a yellow sundress and shorter heels than I’d expect. Her hair is swept into a braid, an unusual touch for her. She looks perfect, of course—she always does—but there’s something different about her today. The smile on her face seems almost… genuine. It’s unsettling.

“Viviana,” she says, arms outstretched as if this is some family reunion. I stand, returning her hug reluctantly, still trying to process the sudden warmth. What the hell is going on?

“Declan isn’t joining us?” she asks, her eyes flicking to the two plates on the table.

“No, he had work to do,” I reply evenly, though the heat creeping into my cheeks betrays me. The memory of this morning rushes back unbidden, and I press my legs together under the table, trying to shake it off.

Her gaze lingers on me, sharp yet oddly soft. There’s a flicker of something in her eyes—concern? “How have you been, Viv? I can’t imagine… you, of all people, in this situation.”

I study her face, searching for signs of the sister I know—the one who always kept me at arm’s length, who never missed a chance to remind me of my place. But there’s no hint of malice today. She actually looks worried.

“I’ve been fine,” I say curtly, though every instinct screams at me to keep my guard up. There’s no way I’m telling her about last night, about the escape attempt or Declan’s relentless presence.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” she murmurs, her tone unexpectedly sincere. “I did everything to make Declan choose me. I never thought he’d pull you into it. Dad even told him not to choose you. But…” She hesitates, her lips pressing into a thin line. “But he just couldn’t resist, could he?”

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I couldn’t tell if it was pity or guilt in her voice. Both possibilities unnerve me.

“Dad told him not to choose me?” I keep my gaze locked on her, searching for a lie, but she meets my eyes without flinching.

“Yes,” she says simply, cutting into her food with mechanical precision. “But Declan didn’t care.”

She’s calm, too calm as if she isn’t dropping a bombshell into the middle of the table.

“You need to be careful, Vi,” she continues, her voice lowering. “You can’t trust the Callaghans. They only look out for themselves, and to them, you’re just…” She pauses, her eyes narrowing. “Collateral.”

I sit back, keeping my expression neutral. “I’m well aware,” I say flatly. “But I’m not some helpless pawn, Silvana.”

Her grip tightens on my hand, startling me. “Then make them trust you, Viviana. You’re the smartest woman I know. Use that. Use whatever you can.”

Her sudden fierceness is almost jarring, her usual aloof demeanour replaced by something raw and urgent.

I laugh, though it carries a bitter edge. “I doubt Declan wants an obedient wife,” I say, my voice laced with sarcasm.

Silvana leans back, her lips curling into a knowing smile. “Obedient? No. But I saw how he looked at you at the wedding. He wants you, Viv.” Her eyes gleam with something I can’t quite place—envy, perhaps? “Think about it.”

Silvana’s suggestion, laced with innuendo, makes me recoil slightly. Is this what she would have done if Declan had chosen her?

I may flirt, may use my body to unnerve and manipulate, but actually sleeping with him? The thought sends a jolt through me. This morning was different—raw, unguarded. A moment born from the chaos of the night before.

The bitterness of it sits heavy on my tongue.

An hour slips by in polite conversation, Silvana prying for details about my time here, about the Callaghan brothers and their habits. Her curiosity feels invasive, and I realize with growing frustration how little I know about the inner workings of this house. I give her half-truths, but each answer leaves me feeling hollow.

Then they arrive.

Declan strides into the room, flanked by Connor and Kian, their collective presence like a storm cloud blotting out the sun. The tailored black suits cling to them, emphasizing strength that barely seems contained. For the first time, I let myselfreallylook at them. Each one exudes power and menace, their confidence electrifying the air like static.

Silvana’s gaze flicks to them, her lips curving into a practised, honeyed smile. Declan’s eyes lock on her, studying her face with a searing intensity that ignites a low simmer in my chest. A pang of jealousy claws its way to the surface.

“Silvana is just leaving.” I rise, voice clipped, trying to force normalcy into my tone. His gaze flicks to me, brief but sharp, before returning to her. My pulse pounds louder with each second that stretches between themDeclan follows us to the door, his presence looming. The moment Silvana’s black Mercedes pulls away, I can’t contain the words that burst from me.

“You should’ve chosen her,” I snap, the accusation sharper than I intended.

I don’t wait for his reaction, turning on my heel and striding briskly back into the foyer. I don’t make it far. His hand catches my waist, spinning me around and pinning me to the wall.

The warmth of his chest presses into me, solid and overwhelming. His scent—a heady mix of woodsy cologne and whisky—floods my senses, pulling me into the memory of this morning.

---