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42
Declan
“He was supposed to check in three hours ago. Something fucking happened!” I bark at one of the guards I brought with me to this god-forsaken fucking country. I didn’t bother sending one of them to tail Logan because I knew he could barely get up to take a piss, let alone run from me. Besides, he doesn’t have the fucking balls. He’s supposed to call me every morning at eight. It’s now eleven, and not a word. Either his wound finally killed him, or they got to him. “Track his phone. Now.”
It takes him only seconds to pull up the location of Logan’s phone on his computer, and when he does, his entire face goes pale. His terrified expression looks up at me as if he’s afraid I’ll put a bullet in his head right here on the spot.
I just fucking might.
“Where?”
“His phone has been at this address in the city since last night.” His shaking finger points to the screen, where a red dot flashes on an address I know all too well.
Son of a fucking bitch.
“Do you think he’s alive?” he asks.
“Highly unlikely.” Honestly, I don’t even care at this point. Logan has been nothing but disappointment after disappointment. He was one more fuckup away from me killing him myself, but that’s beside the point. Because once again, those men and my disgrace of a granddaughter have fucked up my plans.
When I killed the Donovan’s, shortly after Freya and Aidan fled the country, I hoped that would send the appropriate message to the McDermott syndicate. One of their men had already stolen my only child, and then they tried to take Ireland from me. They needed to understand that I was not a man to be trifled with. So, I showed them just how cruel I could be. Since then, they’ve steered clear of me. Even when I killed Freya and Aidan, they didn’t retaliate. Years had gone by, and I remained in control; that is, until my men decided that my age and some gray hair meant I was losing it. They started thinking I was out of touch. That I was going soft. More and more frequently, they began turning to Patrick for orders. They started confiding in him and doing things his way. And before I knew it, I was nothing more than the “old man” who simply claimed he was in charge.
Then I found out about Harper. Her parents and Cece did an excellent job hiding her from me, but not good enough. When I found out about her, my first instinct was to erase her just like I did Freya and Aidan. But then I caught Logan with his dick inside of another man, and another idea came to fruition.
When Freya, my daughter, met Aidan all those years ago and turned her back on her family, I knew I wouldn’t have an heir. All I wanted was for Harper to marry Logan, create the next generation of Whelans, and stop Patrick from undoing everything I’ve spent years building because if I have Patrick killed in Ireland, any support I have left will go right out the window.
I didn’t think that was too much to fucking ask.
But, just like her mother used to, Harper has evaded me at every turn.
No one betrays me and gets away with it. So, just like her mother, I’m about to put an end to her too.
Not the McDermotts.
Not the Donovans.
Not Logan.
Not my own daughter and her husband.
And certainly not their disgraceful daughter.
Had I known she was alive all those years ago, I would have waited until she was in the car with them.
Enough is fucking enough.
I’m Delcan fucking Whelan, for Christ’s sake.
“Burn it.”
It’s time to show them who the hell I am. Before I destroy them, I will destroy everything they hold dear.
“Boss?”
“Hayes’ Bookstore. Burn it the fuck down.”
43
Ronan
