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Blood Red

Author: Leah H
last update publish date: 2026-06-02 09:09:22

D e c l a n

I’ve been told the dress is red. Siobhan told me, because Siobhan tells me everything eventually,

usually delivered with the specific energy of someone who has information they know you want and has waited for maximum impact before deploying it. "Red," she said. "You're welcome. You owe me." She didn't tell me anything else. I didn't ask for anything else. Some things are better walked into without preparation. I'm standing at the end of the aisle in a church that the Conti family has attended for four generations, in a suit that cost more than most people's cars, and I am for the $rst time in recent memory actually nervous. Not about the alliance. Not about the marriage as a strategic structure. Not about any of the things I've spent three months planning around.

About her. The doors open. The entire room exhales. I feel it — that collective shi! of attention,

I’ve hundred people all turning at once. And then I see her and every thought I've had in the last ten seconds disappears completely. Red. Deep, true, dark red lace over silk, the train stretching behind her like something out of a different era something from before the world decided women should be soft and small and easy to manage. She's on her father's arm and she's walking steadily and her back is bare, the lace framing all that exposed skin down to the base of her spine, and her dark hair is pinned up with the veil — black, shot through with red thread, trailing behind the train — and her lips are the color of the dress and she is looking directly at me. Dark eyes. Steady. Not performing anything.

She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life and she knows exactly what she's doing and she is mine, I think, and then correct myself: she

has decided, provisionally, to be mine, which is a completely different and considerably more significant thing. Siobhan, standing to my le! as my best — Fergus objected; Siobhan ignored him — leans slightly toward me and says, barely audible:

"Close your mouth, Declan."

My jaw is closed. But I understand the sentiment.

Marco brings her to the end of the aisle. She steps up beside me. Up close the dress is even more — the lace detail, the precise red of it, the way the open back means that when I set my hand at her spine to guide her forward I will feel warm skin under my palm. She holds my gaze as she comes to stand beside me and something passes between us that is not performed and not strategic and doesn't have a name yet.

"You didn't wear white," I say, low enough for only her.

"I told you I wouldn't."

"You did." I look at her for another moment. "You look—" I don't have the word. Several offer themselves. None of them are adequate. "Like

yourself," I say finally. "For the first time since I've known you. Like yourself."

Something moves in her face. Real. Un$ltered. Gone before anyone else could see it.

"Don't say things like that," she says quietly.

"Why not."

"Because I don't know what to do with them."

I'm going to make it my project, I think, to give her so many things she doesn't know what to do with that she eventually stops trying to file them and starts letting herself feel them instead.

The priest begins. I take her hand. She lets me.

The vows. I say mine and mean every word in the way I mean things I've decided — completely, without reservation, without the option of

changing my mind. She says hers and there's something in her voice that is careful but not cold, measured but not empty, and I understand

that Seraphina Conti does not make promises lightly and that the words in her mouth right now are costing her something.

Good. Things worth having cost something.

When the priest says I may kiss her, I turn to her and she tilts her face up and I kiss her in front of I’ve hundred people with the full weight of my attention and not one single thought for the audience. She

makes a small sound against my mouth that I know no one else heard and her fingers tighten in mine.

Siobhan starts the applause.

✦ ✦ ✦

The holster sits flush against my leg, inner thigh. Custom fit, thin leather, completely invisible under the train of the dress. The knife straps to my right — a $xed blade, four inches, the one I've carried

since I was twenty-two, the one my father doesn't know about. Wedding appropriate,

I think, straightening the train in the anteroom before we walk into the reception. For a wedding like this one, in a world like this one, absolutely wedding appropriate. Luca catches me adjusting the strap through the fabric when he comes

to tell me the cars are ready. He stops. Looks. His eyes track from the faint outline at my le! thigh to my face and back again.

"Sera," he says. Slowly.

"Not now, Luca."

"When were you going to—"

"Later." I meet his eyes. "Much later. Go tell Papà the cars are ready."

He goes. But he looks back at me once from the doorway with an expression I haven't seen on my younger brother's face before — something that looks, almost, like reassessment. Like he's seeing me for

the first time in a while.

Good, I think. About time.

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  • Blood and Bones   Blood Ties

    The study felt smaller with the four of us in it — Declan, his uncle, Luca standing sentinel by the door, and me seated at the edge of the long table, watching the man who’d helped raise Declan into the leader he’d become.“You think I’m the leak,” his uncle said, not a question, his voice steady in a way that could have meant innocence or decades of practice concealing guilt. I’d seen both kinds of calm too many times in my father’s world to tell the difference on instinct alone.“I think someone with access to flight logs, security rotations, and wedding planning fed information to Rinaldi,” Declan said. “I think that list is short. And I think you deserve the chance to explain yourself before I draw conclusions.”His uncle’s eyes flicked to me, something unreadable passing behind them. “And the girl. She’s part of this conversation now?”“She’s my wife,” Declan said, with a finality that settled something warm and unexpected in my chest despite the tension choking the room. “She’s

  • Blood and Bones   What he knows

    “Say it,” I finally said, when the silence became unbearable. “Whatever you’re thinking. Say it.”Declan’s eyes stayed fixed on the passing city, jaw working before the words came. “He didn’t just anticipate us falling into bed together. He orchestrated the opportunity for it to happen. The jet, the timeline, even the itinerary — Luca booked that flight through his usual channels. If Rinaldi had eyes on the schedule three days before the party, that means someone in our own operation is feeding him information in real time.”“A second leak,” I said, the words tasting like ash. “Not just Nico.”“Nico was a tool. Someone closer gave him the target.” Declan’s hands tightened on the wheel, knuckles whitening. “Which means whoever it is has access to flight logs, security rotations, probably the wedding planning itself.”The implications spread out in front of me like the map in the study, red pins multiplying faster than we could track them. Someone close enough to know our schedules. Som

  • Blood and Bones   Nico’s Trail

    “You’re supposed to have two men with you at all times,” he reminded me as we climbed into the car, an edge of something almost like humor threading through the exhaustion in his voice.“I have you,” I said. “That’s one. Fergus is driving. That’s two. Do the math, Callahan.”He didn’t argue further, though the look he gave me said he knew exactly what I was doing — needling him, keeping things light, because the alternative was sitting with the silence and the fear clawing under my ribs for my father. Better to spar with Declan than drown in that.The apartment was empty when we arrived, exactly as Fergus had predicted. Not ransacked — cleared. Every drawer emptied with a precision that spoke of professionals, not panic. Declan moved through the rooms methodically, checking behind mirrors, beneath floorboards that had been pried up and nailed back down just slightly crooked.“He’s thorough,” Declan said, crouching by a floor vent that had been unscrewed recently, the dust pattern dist

  • Blood and Bones   The Leak

    Maeve found it first, just before dawn broke fully over the estate — a discrepancy buried in three months of security logs that nobody else had thought to cross-reference against the catering staff hired for the engagement party.“Here.” She turned her laptop around so Declan and I could see the screen, her finger tapping a name highlighted in yellow. “Nico Ferretti. Hired through an agency two days before the party, no prior work history with any of the vendors we usually use. He had access to the east wing for four hours setting up the audio equipment.”“The east wing overlooks the airstrip,” I said, the pieces clicking into place with a cold, sick certainty. “If he had a clear line of sight from up there with the right equipment—”“He could have photographed the jet on approach,” Declan finished, already reaching for his phone. “Luca, I need everything on a Nico Ferretti, agency hire, four days ago. Now.”Luca was gone before the sentence finished, footsteps receding down the hallw

  • Blood and Bones   The War Room

    By two in the morning, the estate’s private study had become something closer to a command center than the quiet room my father used to disappear into with his brandy and his ledgers. Declan stood at the head of the long table, sleeves rolled to his elbows, a map of the city spread out in front of him with red pins marking every property Rinaldi was known — or suspected — to control.Luca sat to his right, running through the guard rotation logs on his laptop, searching for the gap that had let five armed men walk into a house that was supposed to be impenetrable. Fergus stood near the door, arms crossed, silent in the way he got when he was furious and saving it for later. And Maeve, who’d arrived sometime after Luca with her hair still damp from being woken out of a dead sleep, was already cross-referencing every name Marco had managed to give them before the sedatives took hold.I sat across from Declan, a mug of coffee cooling untouched in front of me, my mind running through the

  • Blood and Bones   Aftermath

    The house didn’t feel like mine anymore once the gunfire stopped.Declan’s men moved through the estate with brisk, practiced efficiency, zip-tying the guards who were still breathing, calling for a cleanup crew, sweeping every room for anything the Ghost might have left behind. I stood in the middle of the foyer, blood — not mine — drying on my knuckles, and tried to remember how to breathe like a person who hadn’t just watched her home turned into a battlefield.“Sera.” Declan’s hand found my shoulder, gentler than it had any right to be given the last ten minutes. “You’re not hurt?”“No.” My voice came out steadier than I felt, which seemed to be the theme of the night. “Not physically.”His jaw ticked — that same tell from the car, except now I understood exactly what it meant. He was furious, and not at me. He crouched down beside Marco, who one of the medics was already working on, pressing gauze against the wound in his shoulder with quick, competent hands.“He’ll live,” the me

  • Blood and Bones   The Dress

    S e r a p h i n a✦Four women in a bridal atelier on the Upper East Side and only two of us are actually getting married, which means the power dynamic in this room is not what the staff assumes. My mother has an agenda: something classic, something long,something that will photograph well and si

  • Blood and Bones   The Takeover

    Seraphina My mother has been waiting her entire life for thismoment and I am not going to survive it.It started the morning a!er the engagement dinner. A single phone call at 8 a.m. — which is my mother's version of a polite hour -andby nine she had a notebook, a color-coded timeline, the priva

  • Blood and Bones   Central Park, 7am

    DeclanShe's already there. 6:45 when I arrived. Full circuit of the Reservoir path, every entry point clocked, every sightline measured. There is exactly one bench in Central Park that makes tactical sense for a private conversation between two people who need to see every approach from everydire

  • Blood and Bones   Glass Houses

    Declan The dinner ends. My family filters out. Siobhan hugs Seraphina at the door — actually hugs her, which Siobhan does not do with people she's just met, which tells me everything I need to know about my sister's read on this woman —and Seraphina accepts it with only a half-second of visible s

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