Page 53 of Declan

“It’s your right one, isn’t it?” I press, my pulse pounding in my ears. I close my eyes, my stomach twisting as I wait.

“No, it’s the left,” he snaps, and my heart sinks like a lead weight. The report flashes in my mind:

The left side of the body shows more pronounced drag marks than the right.

The burn of anger wells up inside me, hot and suffocating. My throat tightens, my chest feels like it’s caving in, and bile rises in my throat.

“Are you there, Viviana?” His voice cuts through the silence, sharper, angrier.

“Where were you on October 31st three years ago, Dad?” My voice trembles, betraying the storm inside me. My grip on the phone tightens so much it feels like it might shatter in my hand.

“Viviana,” he warns, his tone cold as ice. “Don’t dig into things that don’t concern you.”

“Oh my God,” I whisper, a tremor shaking through me. My breath catches, and I can feel the walls closing in. “Please tell me you didn’t—”

“Shut the hell up, Viviana!” he roars, venom dripping from every word. “You keep your mouth shut, or I will shut it permanently!”

And in that instant, I know.

My father, Giovanni, killed Elva.

Chapter 17

Declan

Three fucking attacks in the last week. Aleksandr is getting bold, but finally, we have a new lead. Connor, thanks to Maxim’s phone and computer, intercepted some communications between a man named Ivan Gorbov and Aleksandr. My men caught him, and now it’s time for a chat.

I head to the warehouse and enter the empty room where Ivan stands, chained to the ceiling, still untouched. Connor leans by the door, and Kian stands by my side as we approach.

“You know who I am,” I say, my voice calm but cold.

“The Irish fucker,” Ivan spits, his lips curling into a mocking grin, that thick Russian accent.

“Something like that.” I keep my tone light, amused. “Is Aleksandr in town?”

“Fuck you,” he snarls.

“Yeah, that’s not the right answer.” My lips turn into a smirk. I can see in his eyes not only the anger but the fear; he knows that he will never leave this room alive.

“Aleksandr and Anton will kill you all,” he says, defiance flashing in his eyes.

“Are they? The fuckers who blow shit up while hiding in the shadows because they don’t have the balls to face us?” I chuckle, looking at Kian.

Today, I’m feeling a lot more patient than usual; fucking Viviana last night has taken all the edge I’ve been accumulating since the wedding and seeing her in that fucking black gown. She looked like a beautiful black widow ready to strike her venom, and she’s been like that since—until last night.

“I can face you, fucker!” Ivan snarls, cutting into my line of thought, thankfully, because my cock is already giving me signals. Ivan’s muscles flex against the chains like a bear being poked, dangerous, his eyes flickering with intense fire as the lit room casts shadows on his face; he looks like a good adversary.

I smirk, blood simmering with anticipation. Ivan’s a big guy, and it’s been a while since I’ve thrown real punches outside of spars with my brothers. This might be fun. “Okay, let’s see about that,” I say, loosening my tie and handing it to Kian.

My brothers exchange worried looks but say nothing as I shrug off my suit jacket and roll up my sleeves. I probably should’ve worn an older shirt for this.

“Release him,” I ordered.

Kian hesitates for a moment, then unhooks Ivan from the chains. The moment Ivan’s arms are free, he lunges at me like a bull, tackling me hard against the wall. Pain shoots through my back, but I can’t help laughing. The Koslovs and their men were never known for playing fair.

Ivan grins, mistaking my amusement for weakness. His fists come fast: one, two, three. I block most of them but take a hit to the ribs that makes me stagger back.

“You think you’re untouchable, Callaghan?” he sneers, circling me like a predator sensing blood.

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