Page 87 of Declan

“I don’t know if I can protect you,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. My heart cracks into tiny pieces for him, for the pain lashed in his eyes.

I grab his face with both hands, forcing him to look at me. “You have protected me”. I pull his face closer until our breaths mingle, warm and unsteady.

His dark eyes lock onto mine, holding him in place. “And I can protect myself. With a knife, at least.” I wink, and his lips twitch into a small, reluctant chuckle, the tension in his face softening.

Leaning in, I kiss him—slow at first, but it quickly deepens. His hand digs into my lower back, pulling me flush against him, his kiss turning more possessive, almost desperate.

His fingers tangle in the back of my hair, tilting my head to claim me further. I let him, yielding to his dominance, pressing my body against his. My breasts push into his chest, and the low groan that escapes him vibrates through me, sending heat racing through my veins.

He breaks the kiss, his grip firm as he tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. “Fine,” he sneers, his voice dropping an octave, rough and commanding. “But for now, you keep texting him.

If he calls, I want to hear it. I need to be sure there’s not a hint of him knowing what you’re up to.”

I nod, breathless under his scrutiny. “I promise,” I whisper, giving him a soft peck on the lips. It’s a small act of reassurance, but his hands remain steady on me like he’s unwilling to let go.

He hands me my phone back, and I text Alek.

I didn’t do it for you.

Feeling Declan’s breath catch beside me, I press send. “I know how to deal with him. Trust me.”

He kisses the top of my head, his lips lingering as he takes a deep breath. I need him to trust me fully. I know Aleksandr, even after all these years. Men like him don’t change. He’s drawn to women who challenge him, who push back—bratty women, as he used to say. That’s what first attracted him to me.

That’s why he did what he did to me, to show me he could own me.

“I’m going to need to know more details about that one-night stand,” Declan whispers into my ear, his voice low and dangerous as he steps back. “All the fucking details.” His eyes burn with menace, and I know he means it.

I can’t help but scrunch my nose at the thought. Telling my husband about a night with Aleksandr Koslov? Yeah, that’s not going to happen.

Ding.

The sound cuts through the tension. I glance down at the screen.

If you want to bring Declan Callaghan down, let me know. I’d be more than happy to help, my dove.

Reading it, I instinctively press the phone against my chest, shielding it.

Declan’s brows knit together. “Let me see,” he demands, reaching for it.

I take a step back.

His frown deepens, his whole body shifting into something primal, like a predator ready to pounce. He licks his bottom lip with a slow, deliberate smirk. “Let. Me. Fucking. See. It.”

But I shake my head, taking another step away, holding my ground. “Let me do this on my own,” I say, my voice steady but pleading for him to understand. “I need time and privacy to be the person Aleksandr thinks I am. Please, Declan. Trust me.”

His jaw clenches, his shoulders rising and falling with barely restrained fury. From the corner of my eye, I see Flynn and Connor near the office door, watching the scene unfold. Connor inches forward, his gaze locked on Declan, ready to intervene if necessary.

Declan grunts, dragging a hand through his hair. “Fine, firecracker,” he says through gritted teeth, taking a step back before turning toward the office door. He pauses his back to me. “Don’t make me regret this, Vi.”

With that, he disappears into the office, slamming the door behind him.

Motherfucking God.

Lying in bed, I stare at my phone, thinking of what to write back.

Can I trust you? Weren’t you the one planting fake evidence that I was your informant, almost getting me killed by the Irish Consortium?

The waiting stretches my nerves thin, and anxiety shoots through the roof.

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