Lahat ng Kabanata ng Bound By Blood And Vows.: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

I messaged the lads to come to my room once Ava went back downstairs.“Are we havin’ a feckin’ intervention or somethin’?” Declan muttered as he stepped into my room, eyes dartin’ around at the others already gathered.“I swear to God, if this is about me eatin’ the last cinnamon scroll...” Eion started.“It was you, you bastard!” Rian barked.I raised both hands. “Alright, children. Shut it.”They all fell quiet, but the expressions ranged from mildly amused to suspicious. Darragh leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, one brow arched like he already knew I was about to throw the lot of them off balance. I gestured for them to sit or lean, or stand, whatever they pleased because I didn’t have time for ceremony. Ava was downstairs, calm but determined, and I wasn’t about to leave her hangin’ for long.“I brought you lot in here because I need your heads in the game. And because I don’t want Dominic hearin’ this just yet.”Declan whistled low. “Ah, now I’m interested.”“This ain’t

He crashed into me like a storm unleashed, mouth claiming mine with a hunger that had been simmering under the surface for days, weeks, maybe even longer. His grip at my waist tightened, grounding me as his lips parted mine, demanding, tasting, taking. I curled my fingers into the front of his shirt—his shirt, still loose on my frame, and pulled him impossibly closer. The gun range disappeared. The past disappeared. All that existed in that breathless, stolen moment was the heat between us. He hoisted me up like I weighed nothing, my thighs wrapping around his waist instinctively, my calves locking at his back. His hands found the underside of my thighs, holding me up with practiced ease, but it was the way he looked at me that really made me feel weightless, like I wasn’t just a woman in his arms but a match he’d been waiting to strike. We were still half-hidden in the shadowy corner of the range, the echo of distant shots nothing more than static now. He walked me backwards until my

ConnerI found Domonic below deck, posted up near the back cargo bay, arms folded and gaze fixed on the open sea like he was waiting for something to rise out of it and explain the chaos of the world.He didn’t look at me when I approached. Just said, “You’ve been walking around like you already claimed her.”I sighed dramatically, half real because he was so stupid to think she’d actually go back. “Yeah, well, can you blame a man for trying?”“Not really, no.” He raked a hand through his hair, the beginnings of frustration tugging at his voice. “Look, you know I don't condone what happened to her, but she was literally bred to be a Moretti wife. That’s her place. You’re just going to have to accept that. I’m pretty sure she has. She's had time to breathe, to think. He has too. But they’re bound to be together.” Bound. Like shackles. Like a goddamn sentence.“Yeah… well, whatever she wants, I guess. If she wants to go back then I’ll just have to feckin’ accept that, won’t I?” I mutter

AvaAfter lunch I followed Darragh to his office was tucked below deck, far enough from the chaos of crew life but still close enough to feel the hum of the engines and the pull of the sea beneath our feet. It was quieter here, sharp, orderly, and surprisingly sterile for a man who commanded so much violence. I stood by the wall-length map spread across the table, tracking the dots representing each vessel under our control. Darragh watched me from the other side, expression unreadable, a glass of something expensive resting near his elbow.“You’ve got a hell of a fleet,” I said, fingers trailing across a shipping line headed straight for Sicily. “And you’re telling me you never had to get creative with the cargo?”He smirked. “Define creative.”I turned to him fully, arms crossed. “Let’s say a certain high-value shipment is currently en route to its buyer. But before it reaches port, something happens. A ‘pirate’ attack, maybe. Hostile waters. One of your own crews takes a hit, light

NicoI buried myself in the logistics. Manifests, schedules, payout reports, anything that would keep my mind off the one thing I couldn’t control. Ava. My mind was having trouble not spiraling. One minute I missed her, the next I wanted to punish her for leaving, for not coming back sooner, for not letting me explain. She probably had her own imagination running wild and that was the last thing I needed. I wanted my wife back, in her place. The shipment was coming together. Tight timing, high stakes. If this hit, it’d set us up for a decade. Not just profit, power. Reputation. Legacy. My father had started the empire, but I was the one building it into something unshakable. This deal… it was going to make sure no one ever questioned who I was or what I was capable of. The Irish would take their cut. The Americans would pay a premium. The Russians would stay the fuck out of my way. I’d spent years building this network, threading alliances so tight they’d choke if they tried to pull a