Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

DECLAN

Shoving my forearm into Rory's throat, I pin him to the wall with the weight of my body. Struggling to breathe, hechokes out,"They came up the back. They took out Nolan and Sully."

"My family!" I seethe, my body coursing with equal parts fear and rage. Balling my fist, I throw a punch into hisgut, forcing him to blow out a heavy groan. His body attempts to bend to ease the pain, only causing him to choke harder on my wedged arm still against his windpipe. "They almost got to my fucking family!"

My home is a fucking fortress. Men surround this building day and night, watching over everything. Everyone . There isn't an inch of this place not monitored by security cameras. Making it thisfar,to my floor—to my front fucking door—is not something that any of my enemies should ever be able to do.

"Where the fuck were you?" I snark, pulling the gun from my waistband. I shove the muzzle under Rory's jaw with enough anger that he winces as his head snaps upward. He's the best man I have. He's been with me for years, and in charge of ensuring the safety of my family since before Fiona was born. I trust him to keep them all safe when I can't.

Trusted him.

Rory opens his mouth to explain, but he's pinned so firmly beneath my forearm that he can barelybreathe,let alonespeak. Yet, his lack of response only fuels my ire. Grinding the muzzle into the skin under his jaw, I snarl, "Where the fuck were you? You're supposed to fucking protect them!"

Failing me and myfamily isn't just disappointment. It'sfuckingbetrayal. You don't betray the Evans brothers because there is only one punishment. Death.

Flipping off the safety on my pistol, my index finger flexes against the trigger. Rorydoesn't try to yell. There are no sobs or tearsofa man aboutto meethis maker unwillingly. Instead, hestandstall and holds my gaze, ready to receive what he knows is coming.

"Declan!" Quinn shouts from behind me. With my arm still wedged tightly against Rory and the trigger half-cocked, I turn my head. I find her standing several feet from me with Fiona protectively wrapped around her. She stares at me silently for a moment before softly pleading, "Stop."

Her emerald eyes are unwavering, and I cannot pull away from her gaze. Staring at her, I find my heated breaths slowing to match hers as my misplaced ragebegins to subside.

"Let him go," Quinn gently insists. "You know he's not responsible. He would do anything to keep us safe, and you know it."

My hands fall to my sides, pulling the gun from Rory's jaw and my arm from his throat. He crumples to the floor, choking and desperately sucking in the air that I had been denying him. Drawing in a deep breath, he looks up from his crouched position on the floor. His eyes full of gratitude. "Thank you," he heaves, looking at Quinn.

Stowing my gun in my waistband, I watch as Rory climbs from the floor. He swallows hard and rubs at his throat. His voiceis hoarse, but he answers my questions. "I was in the lobby, sir. You had an unexpected delivery that needed to be dealt with."

"A delivery?" I inquire, knowing that I am not expecting any packages.

Rory lifts his hand, offering me a piece of paper that I didn't previouslyrealizehe was holding. Passing it to me, he shares, "It was attachedto the box."

"Box of what?" I huff.

Rory lowers his voice. "Photographs."

Unfolding it, I immediately recognize it is the same handwriting as the note we had deemed an idle threat at the club.

Now you know how easily I can get to those you care about. Next time I won't be leaving without the whore.

"Photos of what?" Quinn hesitantly asks, clearly unsure if she wants to know the answer to her own question.

Rory pulls his phone from his pocket and sends a text. A few minutes later, the elevator dings, and one of his guys arrives withadecorativeblack box and a red silk ribbon. He hands both toRory,who then places them on the counter before me.

Lifting the lid, I toss it onto the white marble counter. I take a quick glanceinside,and my eyes dart to Quinn before turning to Rory. "How the fuck did they get these?" I bark.

"I gave the order to shut it down the moment I saw it," Rory informs me. "Theyshould be lookingnow to see how anyonemanaged to getaccessin the first place."

"When they find it, I want whoever is responsible," I snarl.

"Of course, sir," Rory nods.

Quinn steps closer and passes meFionabefore reaching for the box.

"Don't." I shake my head, but it's too late.

She lifts a handful of the photographs from the box with a gasp, tossing each to the counter after she looks at them. Hundreds of pictures of her— of us —in compromising positions. All of them, from the confines of this apartment and pulled from the security cameras covering every inch of this place.

"Dec?" she gulps.

I reach forward and place my hand on herback,trying to comfort her. We agreed shortly after she moved in that the cameras would stay. Access to footage is very limited, but even the men monitoring the cameras don't have access to moments spread across the counter. If I don't turn off their access to the room we are intimate in,they have been instructedto do it themselves. No one gets to see her like that without her consent. Rubbing my hand along her back, I mutter, "I'm sorry."

"Not me." Her voice cracks as sheliftsthe photo in her hand for me to see.

"How in the fuck did no one catch this?" I snatch the photo from Quinn and shove it at Rory.