Page 55

The Russian takes the phone back. "You have four hours. Bring Declan Donovan to the abandoned shipyard at the north docks. Alone. Or the boy dies."

The line goes dead. I stand frozen in the middle of the grocery store, terror and rage battling inside me.

I need to call Declan. But when I try his number, it goes straight to voicemail. I try again. Nothing.

A store manager approaches. "Ma'am, the police are here."

"I don't have time for police." I push past him and run for the exit. As I reach my car, my phone rings again—Cormac.

"Where are you?" he asks without preamble.

"They took Conor." My voice breaks. "Russians. Petrov's men. They want Declan at the north docks in four hours."

"Where are you now?"

"The grocery store on O'Connell Street. I need to find Declan."

"He's with me." Cormac's voice is tight. "He found Petrov. Things got... complicated."

Cold fear grips me. "Is he hurt?"

"He'll live. I'll send a car for you. Don't talk to anyone else."

Ten minutes later, a black SUV pulls up next to my car. The driver opens the back door without a word. I get in, and we speed away just as police cars pull into the parking lot.

Cormac's compound north of Dublin is a fortress disguised as a country estate. Steel gates, surveillance cameras, armed guards. The driver takes me straight to the main house, where a stone-faced maid leads me to Cormac's study.

Declan is slumped in a leather chair, shirtless, while a man I don't recognize stitches a gash on his arm. His face is bruised, eye swollen, but his expression when he sees me is pure relief.

"Maeve." He tries to stand but the doctor pushes him back down.

"They took Conor." The words come out in a rush. "At the store. They want you at the north docks in four hours or they'll kill him."

Declan goes still, his face draining of color. "Petrov."

"How is that possible? I thought you went to deal with him."

"I did." His eyes meet Cormac's across the room. "He wasn't there."

Cormac steps forward. "We raided his club. Killed six of his men. But Petrov had already cleared out."

"He must have known you were coming," I say.

"Someone warned him," Declan's voice is ice. "The same person who told him about Conor's shopping trip with you."

My blood runs cold. "Someone inside your organization."

Cormac nods grimly. "It appears so."

The doctor finishes with Declan's arm and packs up his bag. Cormac dismisses him with a nod.

Once we're alone, Declan pulls me into his arms. "I'll get him back. I swear to you."

I push away from him, anger replacing fear. "This is your fault. All of it. Your fucking family and their power games."

"I know." He doesn't try to defend himself.

"They want you. Not Conor. You."