Chapter 3 - What Declan Heard Too Late
I did not let him touch me.
Not in the alley.
Not in the car.
Not when gunfire cracked somewhere inside the building and Gavin shouted that the back route was clear.
Declan opened the rear door for June.
Then stepped away from mine.
“Drive,” he said.
“You’re not coming?”
“I’ll follow.”
That was smarter.
I hated him for getting smarter too late.
We reached a farmhouse in Virginia just before dawn.
No marble.
No armed gate.
No hidden staff.
A plain white house on twenty wooded acres.
Declan arrived ten minutes later with Gavin.
No one had been killed in North Carolina.
Calloway men had entered the building.
Gavin fired warning shots.
Police were called anonymously.
Everyone scattered.
June smoked three cigarettes on the porch despite promising me she had quit in 2018.
“I dislike your ex,” she told me.
“He’s not technically my ex.”
“Worse.”
Declan heard.
He almost smiled.
I did not.
Inside, he stood on the opposite side of the kitchen while I drank water.
His eyes kept drifting toward my stomach.
Finally I said, “Stop.”
He looked at my face.
“Sorry.”
The baby moved again.
I pressed my palm there.
Declan’s jaw tightened.
“How far?”
“Twenty weeks tomorrow.”
He closed his eyes.
I could see him calculating.
The ultrasound.
The day at Voss Tower.
The night I vanished.
“Was that why you came to see me?”
“Yes.”
He looked like I had hit him.
“I thought you were bringing a painting estimate.”
“You thought wrong.”
Silence.
June and Gavin disappeared into the living room.
Not far.
Just enough.
Declan spoke quietly.
“I did not know.”
“I know.”
“You believe me?”
“I believe you didn’t know about the baby.”
His expression tightened.
“Not about everything else.”
“No.”
Fair.
He pulled out a chair.
“Can I sit?”
I almost laughed.
“You’re asking permission to sit in a safe house you probably own?”
“I don’t own it.”
“Who does?”
“Gavin’s aunt.”
From the other room, Gavin called, “Please stop discussing my aunt’s property arrangements.”
June laughed.
The sound broke the tension for one second.
Then it returned.
Declan sat.
“I should have told you about Savannah.”
“Yes.”
“I was trying to close a deal with her father before he knew you existed.”
“He knew enough to ask about me.”
“Savannah knew. Vincent didn’t.”
“You let her know.”
“She found out.”
“How?”
Declan looked away.
“My driver.”
“Which one?”
“Marco.”
I remembered him.
Young.
Always smiling.
“What happened?”
“He sold information to Calloway.”
“Did you kill him?”
Declan met my eyes.
“No.”
“Why did you pause?”
“Because the answer used to be different.”
I felt cold.
“He’s alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Federal custody.”
I stared.
That was not a mafia answer.
Declan continued.
“I’ve been changing things.”
“Because you think that earns me back?”
“No.”
The answer came fast.
“Then why?”
“Because when you disappeared, I had no idea whether you were alive. I realized I had built a world where every problem could plausibly end with someone I loved being taken from me.”
His voice cracked slightly on loved.
I refused to rescue him from it.
“So you changed?”
“I started.”
“Not the same thing.”
“No.”
I sat across from him.
“Tell me the truth about Savannah.”
He did.
The Calloways controlled shipping routes Declan needed to keep a rival family from moving weapons through Chicago.
Vincent wanted a marriage alliance.
Declan refused at first.
Then one of his warehouses was attacked.
Two of his men died.
Savannah proposed a public engagement with a private six-month termination clause.
No marriage unless both families chose to proceed.
A performance.
Territory stabilized.
Rivals backed down.
Declan agreed.
“And me?”
“I planned to tell you the night you came to Voss Tower.”
I laughed bitterly.
“After the press conference?”
“Before.”
“You were already discussing how to ‘resolve’ me.”
He closed his eyes.
“I heard myself say that sentence every night after you disappeared.”
“Good.”
“I meant remove you from surveillance. Give you a different apartment. New security. Keep your name out of Calloway channels.”
“You meant manage me.”
“Yes.”
“Without asking.”
“Yes.”
“Because civilian women don’t get votes?”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Because I was arrogant enough to confuse protection with permission.”
That was better than an apology.
Not enough.
But better.
“What about Savannah?”
“She ended the arrangement herself after you disappeared.”
“Why?”
“She knew I was looking for you.”
“That mattered to her?”
“She said no woman should be collateral to a business deal.”
That surprised me.
“I hated her.”
“You didn’t know her.”
“I saw her hand on you.”
“It was staged.”
“Tell my nervous system.”
He almost smiled.
Then stopped when he saw I wasn’t joking.
“Did you sleep with her?”
“No.”
“Ever?”
“No.”
“Did you kiss her?”
“For the cameras once.”
I looked away.
He let me.
No defense.
No demand that I understand strategy.
After a moment, I said, “Do you want to know if it’s a boy or girl?”
His eyes snapped back to mine.
I had not planned to ask.
The question escaped me.
“You know?”
“Yes.”
He swallowed.
“Do you want to tell me?”
Again, permission.
I nodded.
“A girl.”
His face changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
His eyes became wet.
He looked down at his hands.
“A daughter.”
“Yes.”
He whispered something in Italian.
I didn’t understand.
“What?”
“My mother used to say girls make violent men ashamed of their hands.”
I stared at him.
“That is either beautiful or terrifying.”
“Both.”
He looked at my stomach.
Then back at me.
“May I ask her name?”
“I haven’t chosen.”
“May I suggest one?”
“No.”
He nodded immediately.
That nearly made me laugh.
Nearly.
Then Gavin entered.
His face was hard.
“We have a new problem.”
Declan stood.
“What?”
Gavin placed a phone on the table.
A message from Savannah.
VINCENT KNOWS THE BABY EXISTS.
Below it:
HE THINKS THE CHILD MAKES AMELIA A CLAIM TO VOSS TERRITORY.
My stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
Declan answered quietly.
“In families like ours, children become arguments.”
I stood.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“No what?”
“No daughter of mine becomes an argument.”
Declan nodded once.
“Agreed.”
“Then prove it.”
That was the first thing I ever asked him that sounded like a challenge.
May you like
His answer was simple.
“I will.”
