LOGINCillian
My phone buzzes once. I ignore it. Declan keeps talking, something about numbers, shipments, restructuring routes, important. Normally, I’d be locked in. Normally, nothing breaks my focus. It buzzes again.
Ronan exhales. “Answer it before you break the damn thing.”
I glance down. Liam.
That alone is enough to pull my attention. He doesn’t text unless it matters. I open it.
“She wants to go out. Taking them to your club.&
DeclanMaya doesn't say anything when we walk back into the garage. That's how I know seeing Jax gets to her.She has spent the last hour arguing with me, Liam, probably herself, and anyone else stupid enough to suggest she shouldn't be allowed somewhere, but the second she sees Jax being carried carefully through the workshop on a stretcher, every bit of fight disappears from her face.The medic walks beside him while another man carries the equipment they've already connected to him. We're not taking him to a hospital. Too many questions, too many records, too many opportunities for whoever took him to discover exactly where we've put him. Cillian has already arranged one of the safe houses, and a doctor we trust is meeting them there with everything necessary to keep Jax stable until we know whether he needs more than they can provide privately.Maya stops beside me. I feel her hand searching for mine before she seems to realize she's doing it. I take
DeclanThe first bullet hits the wall less than a foot from my head.Concrete explodes beside me as I move through the doorway, Cillian immediately breaking right while I go left, and Ronan disappears straight down the fucking middle before either of us can stop him. I knew he would. The bastard probably knew he would too, because there is no hesitation in him now, none of the restless pacing or unfocused staring from outside. The second violence becomes real, every scattered piece of him seems to snap into place."Ronan!"Cillian's shout barely registers over another gunshot. Ronan doesn't look back. Of course he fucking doesn't.The garage is larger inside than it appeared from the street, divided into a main workshop with two vehicle lifts and several smaller rooms running along the back. Cars sit beneath dirty covers, tools hang from the walls, and the smell of oil mixes with dust, sweat, and gunpowder. One of our men moves past me as another s
MayaThe first gunshot changes everything.Until that moment, some stupid part of me is still treating this like every other time Declan has ordered me to stay somewhere while he walks toward danger. I'm angry. Frustrated. Standing beside the SUV with my arms folded so tightly across my chest that my fingers are digging into my ribs, replaying every argument I should've made differently and imagining all the ways I'm going to make him regret leaving me behind once he comes back.Then the gunfire starts. Not one shot. Several. Close enough that the sound bounces between the buildings and seems to come from everywhere at once.My entire body locks.Liam moves immediately, stepping directly in front of me while the three men Declan left behind spread around the SUV, weapons raised, attention turning toward every possible approach except the garage.I stare at the red roller door."What's happening?” Liam doesn't answer. "Liam."
DeclanI know Maya isn't going inside before the SUV has completely stopped.The garage sits halfway down a narrow industrial road, exactly the kind of place designed to disappear after dark, surrounded by shuttered units and rusting fences with enough blind corners to hide a fucking army. Cillian has beaten us here. Two black SUVs block the far end of the road while another sits across the entrance, and men are positioned everywhere I look, weapons visible, body armour on, every one of them prepared for whatever is waiting behind that red roller door.Then I see Ronan. Christ. He's pacing beside Cillian, weapon hanging loose in one hand while the other repeatedly drags through his hair. Back and forth. Six steps one way, turn, six steps back. His shoulders are too tight, his movements too quick, and even from inside the SUV I can see his eyes aren't right.Not drunk. Not high. Somewhere else. I've seen it before. We all have.There are things Rona
MayaI have packed a bag for dangerous situations far too many times since Declan Hayes came back into my life.The thought shouldn't be funny, and it isn't really, but I still find myself staring down at the open overnight bag on Declan's bed with something dangerously close to a laugh trapped in my throat. Jeans, underwear, two T-shirts, toiletries, my phone charger, one of Declan's hoodies that I shove inside without asking because at this point I think I've earned the right to steal his clothes. The entire thing takes less than five minutes, which is probably the most disturbing part. I've become good at this. Apparently there is a skill to deciding what you need when somebody might be trying to kill you, kidnap you, or scare you into forgetting something your own brain already buried once.Three years ago, I would've packed heels before a phone charger. Now I check whether Declan has put the small first-aid kit in his bag. I don't know whether that's growth
Declan"My father."The words come out of my mouth, but for a few seconds I don't actually understand them.I know the man in the photograph. Of course I fucking know him. He's younger, standing straighter, his hair darker than it is now, and there isn't a walking stick anywhere near him, but that's my father standing behind Maya outside a warehouse in Queens three years ago. Close enough that if she'd turned around, she would've seen him. Close enough that there's no possibility this is some coincidence I can explain away.And the bastard sat across from her in Ireland and said nothing.I take the laptop from Liam and enlarge the image until the pixels begin to blur. Maya moves closer beside me, her shoulder touching my arm as she studies the photograph. She's younger too. Hair tied up. White top. Completely unaware of the man behind her.Completely unaware of everything. "What was he doing there?" she asks."I don't know."Th
ElenaI stay where I am for a second longer than I should, my back still pressed against the wall, my lungs working too hard as I try to steady my breathing. My heart hasn’t slowed since the auction. Since the car. Since him. Every word he said is still sitting in my head, sharp and suffocating: ma
CillianShe’s shaking. Trying not to show it. Trying to hold herself together like she still has some kind of control over this situation. She doesn’t.The elevator is silent except for the sound of her breathing, too fast, too uneven. I watch her from across the space, my hands in my pockets, taki
Chapter 2 CillianI don’t believe in fate. I believe in control. In power. In making decisions before anyone else even realizes there’s a choice to be made. That’s how you stay alive in my world. That’s how you stay on top.Which is exactly why I’m here. Not for the spectacle. Not for the fucking
ElenaThe necklace is worth more than my entire life. I can feel it. Cold diamonds wrapped tight around my throat like a warning I don’t understand.“Don’t touch it too much,” the event manager snaps as she adjusts it for the third time. “You’re modelling it, not fidgeting with it.”“I’m not…” I st







