Page 16

CHAPTER 16

MAEVE

I wake to sunlight streaming through the cottage window, Declan's arm heavy across my waist. For a moment, I forget everything—the kidnapping, the gunfights, the escape. Then reality crashes back as pain shoots through my bruised body.

Morning after a nightmare, and somehow, we're still alive.

I slip from the bed, careful not to wake Declan. His face looks younger in sleep without the hard lines of worry. The bandage on his shoulder needs changing, but that can wait.

Sarah's already in the kitchen pouring coffee when I drag my ass downstairs.

"Conor's still asleep," she says, passing me a mug. "Poor kid was exhausted."

"Thank you for taking care of him."

She shrugs. "That's what friends do."

I take my coffee to the window, staring out at the gray Irish sky. So much has happened in the past twenty-four hours—Conor kidnapped, Declan shot, me killing a man. I take a burning sip, trying to ground myself in the present.

"You look like shit," Sarah says, joining me.

"Feel like it too."

We hear footsteps from upstairs—Declan moving around. A few minutes later, Conor's voice rings out, loud and urgent.

I rush upstairs to find him in our room, clinging to Declan like he might disappear.

"I thought you left again," he says when he sees me, his face buried in Declan's good shoulder.

"No, baby. I'm right here." I join their hug, stroking Conor's hair. "We're both here."

We head downstairs together. Sarah's in the kitchen mixing pancake batter, the smell of fresh coffee filling the small space.

"Look who's up," she says, eyeing our bruised faces but not commenting.

"Can we have pancakes?" Conor asks, perking up at the sight of the bowl.

"That's the plan," Sarah says, ruffling his hair. "Set the table for me?"

I help Conor with the plates while Declan pours coffee. Sarah flips pancakes at the stove, humming some pop song under her breath.

"Look at us," she says, sliding golden pancakes onto Conor's plate. "Like a fucked-up family vacation."

I shoot her a warning look—Conor doesn't need the reminder. Or to learn how to cuss. He drowns his pancakes in syrup, chattering about Disney World while my face throbs from yesterday's bruises. Declan winces every time he lifts his coffee mug.

Twenty-four hours ago, I shot a man. Declan killed a Russian mob boss. Men with guns nearly murdered my son. Now we're eating pancakes like nothing happened.

"Your phone's charged," Sarah says, handing me the borrowed charger. "Your boyfriend's brother called six times."

Declan looks up sharply. "Cormac?"

"He wants us at the compound by noon," I say, checking the messages. "Says it's urgent."

"I bet it is." Declan's jaw tightens. "He's not happy I'm taking you to see Siobhan."

Sarah eyes us over her coffee mug. "The psycho sister who kidnapped Conor? You're visiting her?"

"We need answers," Declan says.

"Closure," I add, though that's not quite right. I need to look this woman in the eye. I need to know why she targeted my son, and if the threat is truly gone.

Sarah sighs. "You Donovan’s and your drama. I'll watch the little man while you go confront the crazy lady."

"I'm not a Donovan," I object automatically.

Sarah and Declan exchange a look that makes my cheeks burn.

After breakfast, I take Conor outside to the small garden overlooking the sea. We need to go soon, and I have no fucking clue how to explain it to him. Not when I don't even know where we're headed next.

"Are we going home now?" he asks, kicking at stones in the garden path.

"Not yet." I kneel to his level. "Dad and I need to talk to someone first. You'll stay with Sarah for a little while."

His face falls. "I don't want to stay. I want to go with you."

"I know, but this is a grown-up thing." I brush his hair from his eyes—he needs a haircut. "We won't be long, I promise."

"Is it about the bad men?"

I hesitate. "Yes."

"Are they coming back?"

"No, baby." I pull him close. "They can't hurt us anymore."

Declan joins us in the garden. "Ready?" he asks me.

I nod, though I'm not ready at all. I hug Conor one more time, feeling his small arms squeeze my neck.

"Be good for Sarah," I tell him. "We'll be back soon."

Declan lifts Conor up with his good arm. "Hey buddy, while we're gone, think about where you want to go for vacation. Any place in the world."

Conor's eyes light up. "Disney World?"

"If that's what you want." Declan sets him down. "We can go anywhere."

I kiss Conor's forehead one more time. "Be good. We'll be back soon."

Sarah hands me my phone and jacket. "Try not to get shot this time."

"No promises."

I grab Cormac's car keys and head for the Audi. Time to visit the woman who tried to destroy my family.

* * *

Cormac waits for us in his office, a glass of whiskey already in his hand I think he drinks twenty-four-seven. He looks tired, dark circles under his eyes. For a moment, I feel sorry for him—for the weight he carries as head of the Donovan family.

"You're taking her to see Siobhan," he says to Declan, not bothering with pleasantries. "Are you sure that's smart?"

"Not your decision," Declan replies.

Cormac sighs. "The woman who tried to kidnap your son?—"

"The woman who succeeded in kidnapping my son," I interrupt. "I need to see her."

"She's not well, Maeve."

"I don't care."

Cormac nods. "I'll have a car brought around."

"I want to drive," Declan says.

Another sigh. "Fine. The hunting lodge is an hour away. My men are outside."

He writes directions on a slip of paper and hands it to Declan. Their fingers brush, a silent communication passing between brothers. For all their differences, their bond runs deep.

"Be careful," Cormac tells us. "She might look contained, but her fucked up mind is dangerous."

I suppress a shiver.

The drive north is quiet. I watch the Dublin suburbs give way to rolling countryside, green after recent rain.

"What do you want to ask her?" I say, breaking the silence.

Declan keeps his eyes on the road. "Why she targeted us specifically. What she knows about Cormac that I don't."

"You think he's hiding something?"

"He's always hiding something. The question is whether it matters to us."

I turn to look at him. "And then what? After we talk to her?"

"Then we decide our future."

"Just like that?"

He takes my hand across the center console. "Just like that."

The hunting lodge is nestled among tall pines. It's smaller than I expected, more cabin than lodge. Two men stand guard outside, nodding to Declan as we approach.

"Mr. Donovan," one of them says. "She's inside."

"Is she restrained?" Declan asks.

The guard shakes his head. "Mr. Cormac's orders. She's not dangerous physically."

I'm not so sure about that, but I follow Declan inside without comment.

The interior of the lodge is rustic but comfortable. A fire burns in the stone hearth, casting long shadows across the wooden floors. And there, in an armchair by the window, is Siobhan Donovan.

"My little brother returns," she says, her voice stronger than her appearance suggests. "And you brought the nurse. How cute."

Declan steps forward, positioning himself slightly in front of me. "Siobhan."

"Come to gloat? To see the mighty Siobhan fallen?" She gestures around the lodge. "My prison is comfortable, at least. Cormac always did have style."

"We came for answers," I say, stepping out from behind Declan.

Siobhan's gaze shifts to me, a cold smile playing on her lips. "The mother lion. I heard you shot one of Petrov's men to save your cub. Impressive."

"You targeted my son."

"Business," she says with a shrug. "Nothing personal."

Rage burns through me. "He's six years old."

"And a Donovan." Her eyes narrow. "That's all that matters."

Declan moves closer to her chair. "Why, Siobhan? Why Conor? Why not come after me directly?"

She laughs, the sound hollow and bitter. "Oh, I did. The bullet in your shoulder, remember? But you're harder to break than most men." Her gaze returns to me. "Your weak spot is obvious."

"You're a monster," I tell her.

"I'm a Donovan." She tilts her head. "We’re all monsters. Just like your son will be."

Declan grabs the arm of her chair, leaning into her space. "Enough games. Petrov said you know something about Cormac. Something he doesn't want me to know."

Interest flickers in Siobhan's eyes. "Andrei talked before you killed him. Fucking weakling."

"What is Cormac hiding?"

"Why do you care? You abandoned this family years ago."

"I left to protect the woman I love. From our father. From the life he wanted for me."

"Such nobility." She scoffs. "And yet here you are, back in the fold, blood on your hands again."

"Not by choice."

"We always have choices, brother dear." She leans forward. "I chose to take what was rightfully mine. Cormac chose to stop me. You chose to come back to Dublin. And now, you'll choose what to do with what I tell you."

Declan straightens. "So, talk."

Siobhan's eyes dart to the window, where one of Cormac's men stands guard outside. "Not here. Not with his dogs listening."

I step forward. "This is bullshit. She's fucking with us."

Siobhan ignores me, focusing on Declan. "The basement. No windows, no ears."

Declan hesitates, then nods. "Show me."

"Declan—" I start to object.

"It's okay," he says. "Wait here."

"Like hell I will."

Siobhan smiles, amused by our exchange. "The nurse can come too. She should hear this."

She leads us to a door off the kitchen, opening to a narrow staircase. The basement is small but finished, with a card table and chairs in the center. A single bulb hangs overhead, casting harsh light.

Siobhan sits at the table, gesturing for us to join her. "Fucking cozy, right?"

"Talk," Declan says, taking a seat across from her. I remain standing, too wired to sit.

"Our father's death wasn't natural," Siobhan says without preamble. "Cormac helped him along."

Declan's face betrays nothing. "You're saying Cormac killed him."

"Not with his own hands, no. That's not our brother's style. But the heart medication Dad took? Cormac had it replaced with something else. Made it look like a stroke."

"Why would he do that?"

"Dad was planning to step down, to divide the business between us. Cormac would get the legitimate operations, I'd get the street trade. Dad thought it would keep the peace." She leans forward. "Cormac wanted it all."

I watch Declan's face, trying to read his reaction. "You have proof of this?" he asks.

"I found the altered medication. Confronted Cormac. He admitted it." She smiles thinly. "That's when he decided I was too dangerous to keep around."

"So, you allied with Petrov to take him down."

"I allied with Andrei because he understood my ambition. Knew what it means to be denied your birthright." Her eyes harden. "Cormac took what should have been shared. He deserves to lose it all."

"And my son? What did he deserve?" I ask, unable to hold back.

Siobhan glances at me. "Collateral damage. The price of war."

I move before I can think, my palm striking her cheek hard enough to snap her head to the side. "You fucking bitch."

She touches her reddening cheek, laughing softly. "There it is. The fire that attracted my brother. I see it now."

"Enough." Declan stands. "If what you're saying about Cormac is true?—"

"It is."

"Then why keep you alive? Why not kill you too?"

Siobhan's smile fades. "Because I have insurance. Information that would destroy him if it got out. Names, dates, accounts—everything needed to bring down the Donovan empire." She taps her temple. "All up here. Kill me, and it all goes public."

"You expect me to believe you orchestrated all this just to get back at Cormac for not sharing his toys?"

"Not just that." Her voice drops. "There's more, about you. About why Cormac really sent you away seven years ago."

I move closer to Declan, sensing his tension. "What about me?"

"Dad didn't threaten to kill Maeve because she was trash," Siobhan says. "He threatened her because Cormac told him you were planning to leave the family business. That she had turned you soft."

Declan shakes his head. "That's not true. I never?—"

"No? You never talked about getting out? About starting fresh somewhere else?" Her eyes gleam. "Cormac couldn't lose you. You were his enforcer, his weapon. So, he told Dad about your plans, knowing how he'd react."

"You're lying."

"Am I? Think about it, Declan. Who suggested you leave Dublin 'for Maeve's safety'? Who arranged your exile? Who kept you in those fighting cages, ensuring you stayed violent enough to be useful when he needed you back?"

Declan's fists clench on the table. "Cormac was protecting me."

"Cormac was using you. Still is." She leans back. "Why do you think he’s keeping me alive? Not just because of my insurance. But because he knows you'd never forgive him if he killed me. Not after you specifically asked for mercy."

We all go quiet. I see the doubt cross Declan's face as Siobhan's poison works into him.

"Even if all this is true," he finally says, "why tell me now?"

"Because I want you to choose brother. Choose me, and we take Cormac down together. Choose him, and you're choosing the lies he's built around you." She smiles. "Or choose neither, take your little family, and run. But know that neither Cormac nor I will ever truly let you go."

I've heard enough. "We're done here."

Siobhan's eyes lock on mine. "The nurse speaks for you now, Declan? Whipped much?"

"She speaks with me," Declan says, standing. "And she's right. We're done."

We climb the stairs in silence, Siobhan following behind. At the top, she catches Declan's arm.

"Think about what I've said. The offer stands."

He pulls away without answering, taking my hand as we walk out of the lodge into the gray afternoon. The guards watch us go.

In the car, Declan sits without starting the engine, staring through the windshield at nothing.

"Do you believe her?" I ask quietly.

He rubs his face with both hands. "I don't know. Siobhan's always been manipulative, but..."

"But?"

"Some of it fits. The timing of Dad's death. Cormac's reaction when I came back to Dublin. He wasn’t expecting me, to actually come."

I turn in my seat to face him. "Does it matter? If Cormac killed your father, if he manipulated you—does it change what we do now?"

"It changes everything if I can't trust my own brother."

"You never fully trusted him anyway."

A small smile touches his lips. "True."

"So, what now?"

He starts the engine. "Now we get our son and get the hell out of here."

No revenge plot. No choosing sides in this twisted family feud. Just us, our son, a clean break.

"Where will we go?" I ask.

"Anywhere. Everywhere. As far from Dublin as we can get." He takes my hand. "I meant what I said to Conor about Disney World. Or anywhere else he wants."

"What about your brothers? Your life here?"

"My life is with you and Conor now." His grip tightens on mine. "I won't make the same mistake twice."

I want to believe him. God, I want to believe that we can drive away from this nightmare and never look back. But experience teaches hard lessons.

"The Donovan’s won't just let you disappear."

"Let me worry about that."

"No." I pull my hand away. "That's not how this works. We're in this together now. Whatever comes, whatever you decide, we do it together."

He looks at me like he can't believe what he's hearing. "After everything I've put you through, you're still willing to stand with me?"

"Not with you. For us. For Conor." I touch his face. "For our family."

He kisses me hard, his hand in my hair. The kiss is raw, full of everything we can't say.

"I love you," he says against my lips. "I never stopped loving you."

"I know." I rest my forehead against his. "I never stopped either. Not really."

We drive back toward the coast, toward Sarah's cottage, toward Conor. Our future is uncertain but at least we have one.

Whatever Siobhan and Cormac do next, whatever secrets lie buried in the Donovan past, one thing is clear, my future belongs with Declan and our son. And I'll fight anyone who tries to take that from us—even the demons that haunt Declan's heart.

The road takes us away from Dublin, from the violence, from all the shit that's defined our lives. For the first time in my life, I let myself hope.