Page 67 of Declan

Giovanni will have to wait. But I’ll come for him. I’ll make him suffer like I have.

Taking a deep breath, I crack my neck from side to side, trying to release some of the tension coiling in my shoulders.

“Connor!” I shout toward the hallway. He’s there within seconds, his expression heavy with sorrow.

“We’ll make sure Viviana is safe first,” I say firmly. Kian leans against the door frame, arms crossed, and I catch the faintest glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes.

“If the phone isn’t hers, it won’t have her prints, right?” I press.

Connor nods quickly. “And from what I can see when I hacked after Flynn sent me the SIM card number, the phone was never pinned to antennas anywhere near the estate. That device was never inside the house. Viviana hasn’t left the grounds since the wedding, except for that lunch with her sister.”

“Call Flynn on the burner,” I ordered, my jaw clenched. “Tell him to have John verify all of it. Maybe that’ll be enough to get her released to me.”

Connor doesn’t hesitate, rushing to his office to make the call. Kian stays where he is, leaning casually against the frame, watching me with that irritating calm.

“What?” I snap.

“You know Viviana had nothing to do with Elva, right?” Kian says evenly.

“I know,” I admit, though the words taste bitter on my tongue. “But she hid this from me. Not only that, she went back into that room after what happened last time.”

The memory of that night is a raw wound. I remember snapping at her, ordering Kian to lock her up, and how she ran to the lake afterwards. I thought she was dead. I shake my head, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. She’s a fucking menace.

“Come on now, Declan,” Kian says, his tone lighter. “She did what any of us would’ve done. She had a suspicion and dug into it until she knew the truth.” He pauses, his gaze shifting. “She probably thought that if she told you Giovanni killed Elva…”

“You think she thought I’d kill her too?” I ask, my voice rough.

Kian nods. And he’s right; weeks ago, if she’d told me this, I would’ve killed them all. Giovanni, his daughters. Everyone.

But now?

Now, after everything? After I’ve tasted her? After making her scream my name, her body trembling beneath me, her lips desperate for more? After watching her fall apart in my arms, her hands shaking as she cleaned the blood from my clothes?

I take a hand through my hair, closing my eyes against the memories.

No. I can’t kill her.

But I don’t know if I can stay with her either. Not with the daughter of the man who murdered Elva.

Chapter 22

Viviana

The room is suffocatingly dark. The table and chair are cold steel. I can’t pinpoint where I am, but I know enough to recognize this as the kind of room people are brought to for torture. The fabric covering the balcony, where I imagine they keep their tools, does little to ease my discomfort. How thoughtful of them.

“Viviana, let’s go through this again, shall we?” John Flanagan leans forward, his voice smooth and practised, his eyes narrowing as if he’s waiting for a crack in my story. But there won’t be one. I’m not lying. I’ve never seen that damn phone in my life. I do own a burner, but it’s not that one.

“I’ve told you,” I say coldly, my tone icy. “I’ve never seen that phone. And I’ve got no reason to work with the Russians.”

My face is unreadable; my body is rigid with control as I hold John’s gaze. They want to break me. They won’t. I’m a Morelli, and even

if I hate everything they stand for, I am who I am. No amount of Irish intimidation is going to change that.

“But your father has,” Nolan Keeffe cuts in, his voice dripping with disdain.

“Then go after him,” I deadpan, not sparing him a glance.

Nolan scoffs and starts pacing behind John. I can’t help the small grin that pulls at the corner of my lips. It’s almost amusing how easily they’re rattled.

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