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“Declan, what’s—”
“Na teacht amach as an gcarr.” [Do not get out of the car] “No matter what. Stay inside.”
I could hardly hear him. My heart pounded violently against my chest and the blood rushed into my ears in a frenzy. “Declan ...”
“Ava, did you hear me?” His stern tone forced me to nod. Hot tears burned in my throat and stung my eyes. But I had no intention of shedding them. The past year with my father had taught me to have a thick skin. “Big girls shouldn’t cry, Mo leanbh, [my child],” he used to say. “Don’t let anything get you down. Never give up.”
Before I could say a word, Declan's seatbelt was unfastened, and he was out the door with that damn black gun in his grip.
I watched his solid back as he walked toward the strange cars. More of my father’s men followed close on his heels, clutching their rifles and Glocks tightly. When they reached the wide center, one of the car doors opened and a tall man in the finest suit got out.
The air seized in my lungs and my heart raced faster than a record-breaking sprinter on the track. No ...
Everything came back to my mind; the first time I saw him, when he held me prisoner in that old basement cell, and his harsh words echoing in my ears.
You are at my mercy, milaya.
Shit! He found me. And worse, he was as sinfully handsome as ever. He had the same ghostly eyes with a hollowness that could suck out any soul that looked too long. His suit was tailored to perfection, it seemed almost inadequate to contain the raw power within. The corporate façade hid neither the black ink shimmering through the collar of his shirt nor the violent turbulence in his posture as he marched forward with his silver gun raised in the air.
It happened fast. But I saw it coming. The anger, the determination, the pull of the trigger.
Before Declan reacted with a counter-defense, ricocheting sounds of bullets pierced the air and my father’s men dropped to the ground like potato sacks. He was the only one left standing and he was livid.
“You fucking piece of shit!” Declan bellowed.
Our attackers rushed at him, knocked the gun out of his hand, and pushed him to his knees in front of my worst nightmare. He raised a fist in the air, and I couldn’t wait. I pushed the door open and ran toward them as fast as my legs would carry me. But I was too late.
His fist came down on Declan’s face and his knee hit his jaw. He crumpled to the asphalt, fine suit, blond hair, and all.
“You Irish mutts always make things difficult for us.”
“You're complaining because you can't handle us, Russian scum,” Declan spluttered, blood trickling from his burst lips.
Viktor looked at the brawny, bald man standing next to him and pulled one corner of his mouth up into a cocky grin. “The dog is still talking.”
“Stop!” I ran to them and fell to my knees to cradle his head on my lap. A tear accidentally slipped and fell on his cheek. Viktor’s men pointed their guns at me, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t watch Declan get hurt.
Against the warnings of all the voices in my head telling me not to look, I lifted my head and met the coldness in his dark eyes. “Stop hurting him.”
We glared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Something flickered in his gray irises, which sparkled like diamond stars in a pitch-black sky. His penetrating stare haunted me with irritation and savage charm all at once. My heart fluttered like a butterfly as his smirk widened into a grin.
He crouched to our level and my breath caught as his familiar scent tickled my nose and sparked memories from twelve months ago. It made me light-headed, and a shiver ran through my body. He was so close; I could smell cherry in his breath. His gaze flickered back and forth between my face and Declan’s. Then he growled something in Russian that I couldn’t understand.
“Ty zabotish’sya o nem.” You care about him.
His expression became angry as he stood up and pointed at the bald man. In a flash, his men dragged me away from Declan and held me down as they stomped on his body again and again, anywhere their shoes could touch.
More tears dropped on my cheeks and my heart squeezed. If I had to, I was finally going to do the one thing he’d always wanted from me. I was going to beg.
As I knelt on the ground, still in the firm grip of two of his men, I looked up at him through wet eyelashes. “Please, I’m begging you. Stop hurting him.” Declan’s pained grunts and curses in the background made me cry harder. “Why—Why are you doing this? He’s done nothing to you, he is only protecting me.”
He shrugged; a wicked glimmer danced in his eyes. “He failed. And your sweet Papa—he messed with us, so this is the price to pay. Fedor ...”
The last thing I saw was the flash of satisfaction on his face before I was dragged off the ground by the huge man called Fedor. Panic rose in my chest as the world was turned upside down. I dangled over his broad shoulder like a rag doll, my hair hanging in the air.
“No!” Declan growled from behind us.
“No hard feelings,” I heard the mockery in Viktor’s voice even if I couldn’t see his face. “Nothing personal; just business.”
