Semua Bab The Heiress & Her Scottish Mafia Twins: Bab 41 - Bab 50

Eilidh POV The moving company arrived with white glove specialists hauling my grand piano, massive headboards, and imported antiques up spiral staircases. Deliveries started flying in from every high end furniture and decor store Cat and I had cleared out last week in LA. Rugs, custom lighting, marble end tables, massive framed art, and literal chandeliers. “Back! Be careful with that!” I hollered at one of the movers, flailing toward the twelve foot gilded mirror I'd imported from Paris. “That’s older than half the bloody country!” Just when I thought I couldn’t get any more overwhelmed, she showed up. Bianca Devayne, interior designer to the stars, creative director of Divine Aesthetic in Beverly Hills, and a certified menace in Gucci heels. She swanned in like she owned the damn place, tossing her platinum hair and snapping her fingers at her well dressed crew of designers, stylists, and custom craftsmen. “Sweetheart, this place is STUNNING,” she gasped, clutching her pearl

Eilidh POVThe Next Morning....I woke up with my head nestled between two firm chests, tangled in limbs and blankets, sore in all the best ways. All I could smell was cedarwood, sin, and sleep.The twins were still out cold, one snoring softly, the other twitching in a dream, probably something dirty knowing Callum’s brain. I wiggled free with a sleepy grin, pulled on a robe, and padded down the massive stone hallway barefoot, trailing the scent of sex and sandalwood behind me.The kitchen was already buzzing. Declan stood shirtless in tartan pajama pants, flipping pancakes with a confidence that screamed “I’ve done this hungover on a pirate ship before.”Cat was at the espresso machine, frothing milk like a damn barista, her hair up in a chaotic top knot, Declan’s t-shirt still drowning her like a sexy sleep dress.Rory and Niall were arguing about how crispy bacon should be, while the other boys had scrambled eggs going, hash browns frying, and a literal tower of toast already buil

Eilidh POVLater that night....I’d barely drifted off when the whole bloody castle shook. The sound ripped me out of sleep, heart hammering like I’d just run ten flights of stairs.One second I was warm and tangled between Callum and Keiran, the next I was bolt upright in the massive bed, trying to figure out if I was dreaming or if the world had just gone to hell.Then I heard it. Glass shattering. Metal screaming as it bent. The deep, bone shaking thud of something heavy hitting the ground.“Christ Almighty..stay put, lass,” Callum growled, already swinging out of bed, muscles flexing as he grabbed for his gun.“Aye, like hell I’m stayin’ put,” I shot back, throwing the covers off and grabbing my silk robe.By the time we hit the hallway, Rory, Niall, and Declan were spilling out of their suites, all armed to the teeth. Rory’s laptop was already open, his fingers flying across the keys. “Security feed’s cut,” he barked. “That’s nae a bloody accident.”“Backup generators?” Keiran as

Eilidh POVThe door clicked shut behind them as the last of the movers left. I barely had time to breathe before Keiran backed me into the wall, his palm flat against the stone beside my head. “Ye were shakin’ at breakfast, lass. Cannae have that.”Callum circled behind me, his warm breath brushing my ear. “We’ll keep ye safe. But we’ll also make sure ye forget every damn thing that’s got ye worried.”The weight of them, the heat, the sheer command in their voices melted away the lingering fear. Somewhere down the hall, I could hear the guards shifting position and the low murmur of radios. But here, in this locked suite, it was just me and my two Scottish devils.Keiran tilted my chin up with his knuckles, slow and deliberate. “So, lass… distraction it is?” Callum growled in approval as he crowded me against the wall beside Keiran. “Ye’ve nae idea how long I’ve been wantin’ tae get ye alone, lass,” he growled. His voice was low, dark, and dangerous in that delicious brogue. “Wee thi

Eilidh POVDeclan pushed his chair back and stood, sliding his gun into the holster at his side. “I’ll check with our contacts at the docks. Sometimes the gossip there’s better than any official source.”Cat arched an eyebrow at him, smirking. “And by ‘check,’ you mean throw someone off a pier if they lie to you.”He winked. “Only if they deserve it.”Chef Ambrose emerged from the kitchen again, wiping his hands on a towel. “If ye need someone followed, I’ve a few suppliers who owe me favours. They ken better than tae refuse me.”Mr. Sterling adjusted his cufflinks with the precision of a man who could slit a throat without wrinkling his shirt. “And I shall ensure the castle security is impenetrable. No one gets in or out without my knowing.”Saoirse leaned on the doorway, a faint grin on her lips. “If ye need tae chase someone across country, I’ll keep the horses warmed up an’ ready. Can’t outrun a beast with four legs.”I pushed my chair back, standing so I could meet every single o