Chapter 11

Eleven

Iwake up slowly, feeling like something is brushing my cheek. I run my hand over my face and frown when I realize it feels like hair.

Why would there be long hair on my face?

Last night's events come rushing back to me.

Being startled awake by a security breach. Finding Nikita cornered in her apartment. Her stabbing me before bringing her back to my place. Finally her asking me to stay until she fell asleep.

Reluctantly I open my eyes, and sure enough, she's in bed next to me, facing the other way.

Son of a bitch.

I didn't mean to fall asleep. After she passed out, I was going to go back over to her place and make sure everyone did their job and cleaned it up before going hunting for the culprit.

Slowly, I sit up and lean against the wall. I reach down to the floor and grab my phone, seeing a message from Callum.

Callum: Come over when you wake up.

Shit, he needs an incident report, but I completely forgot to send it up the channels last night. I was too busy worrying about Nikita. I look over at the sleeping woman in question and shake my head. Somehow, despite the crazy night, I feel more rested than I have been lately.

Of course I got great sleep while sharing my bed with her.

Carefully, I get out of bed and head toward the bathroom. As quietly as possible, I get ready for the day. Stopping beside the bed without thinking about it, I lean over and press a kiss to the top of Nikita's head before heading out the door.

I won't let her father have her. He lost his right to her when he handed her over to Haruaki. Now she's mine, and I protect what's mine.

Once in the car, I shoot Callum a text letting him know I'm on my way. My phone rings as I drive through the city, and I see Tristano's name pop up on the screen.

"Not before coffee…" I sigh as I ignore his call.

As much as I love the guy, I don't have the brainpower to deal with him right now.

A text comes across my screen.

Tristano: What are you, too good for me now that you're a married man? Stop avoiding me and call me back, dickhead. If you don't, I'll hop on a flight and show up at your door.

I scoff, shaking my head. "You would."

I pull up to Callum's, and thoughts of Tristano are pushed to the side as I get out of the car. Callum steps out and meets me outside with Emily on his hip.

"Morning," I say as I walk toward him.

"Morning. Sounds like you had an eventful night."

"That's one way to look at it, I guess."

Emily reaches out, and I take her from her dad's arms.

"Morning, sweetheart," I murmur as she curls into my chest.

He turns, holding open the front door. "After you."

"Thanks."

"Let's drop her off with Autumn in the kitchen and then head to my office to talk."

I nod and follow him deeper into the house.

Autumn looks up from making a small plate of food and smiles. "Morning, Declan."

"Morning. How are you today?"

"Better than you, I'd say," she teases, making me chuckle. "I made you both coffee."

"Thank you," I tell her as I place Emily in her highchair.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Callum kiss his wife before grabbing both cups of coffee.

Wordlessly, he hands me my cup and we head into his office, making sure to shut the door behind us.

"What do we know?" Callum asks as he rounds his desk.

I sit in the chair across from him and sigh. "Her father."

Callum shakes his head. "Are you sure?"

I give him a pointed look. "We both know they don't view family like we do. Do I think the attempted hit was done by him himself? No, but he was definitely behind it."

Pulling out my phone, I pull up the photo I took the night before and slide my phone over to Callum.

Quickly, he reads the note and starts drumming his fingers on his desk. "I don't understand. Usually men in this situation would be foaming at the mouth to build an alliance like this."

"But we both know our marriage wasn't done as an alliance. Hell, neither Nikita nor us notified him ahead of time. A man like that doesn't like not being the one pulling the strings."

A crease forms between Callum's eyebrows. "I understand that, but why an arrow? That doesn't make sense."

"Someone thinks they're a modern-day Hawkeye?" I say, referring to the Marvel character who's an archer.

I don't miss the corner of Callum's mouth twitching at my sarcasm.

"Honestly, I don't have a lot to go on other than it was an archer who smokes Javas," I say, mentioning the Russian cigarette brand. "And I only know that because they dropped one on the rooftop across from her place."

Callum looks off thoughtfully. "Do you think that was done intentionally or sloppy?"

I take a sip of my coffee. "No clue, but it's something."

"And we're sure there's been no communication between them and her?"

"Nothing on her phone or in the mail. She's been getting gifts randomly, though. She thought they were from me."

"She could be lying," Callum counters.

"You didn't see her face. She was pissed because she thought I was playing games with her. She had no clue who they were from."

"She still ditches her guards."

Before Callum even finishes his sentence, I'm shaking my head, making him raise a brow.

"I know she does, but I think that's more for attention and not for nefarious reasons."

"Huh…"

"What?" I ask reluctantly.

Callum smirks. "I never thought I would see the day you defended your wife. I forgot to ask, how's married life treating you? Are you still avoiding your wife like the plague?"

I shoot him a dirty look. "You know it's not like that."

"Who knows, things might change now that she's staying with you."

"Who says she's staying with me?"

Callum looks at me like I'm an idiot. "Someone tried to kill her. The last time that happened, you married her, so it's not a far-fetched idea that you would move her in."

I bite my tongue and look away. He's not wrong. I can better protect her if she's in the same apartment as me.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I move to grab it. "Excuse me."

Unlocking the screen, I see that it's a camera notification in my place. Opening it, I see that Nikita is awake.

"Looks like sleeping beauty is awake. I'm going to go question her to see if she's hiding anything," I say as I stand.

Wordlessly, Callum stands and walks me outside.

"Declan," he calls out as I unlock my car door.

"Yeah?"

"You can stop lying to yourself. You aren't going to question her, you're worried about her and that's okay. Let yourself care about her. Comfort her. It's not every day you find out your father tried to kill you."

I nod at my boss and get into the car. He's right, but I don't know how to be gentle with Nikita.

Everything about the woman sets me off, and I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Slowly,I start to wake up. With my eyes still closed, I move my arms above my head and stretch. My knuckles graze the wall, making me frown.

Why would I touch the wall when I have a headboard?

I gasp, my eyes opening as the last twelve hours of events start to consume me.

I could have died last night.

I didn't, though. I'm still here. Declan protected me. He brought me to his apartment.

My eyes stray over to the window. His bed isn't in direct view of the window, but it's still there.

Is someone out there watching now?

I start to shake at the thought.

Swallowing hard, I push my feelings down. The last thing I want to do is fall apart in front of Declan. No, it can wait until I get back to my place.

I'll go home, have a little cry in the shower and then I'll make a list of things that need done.

Thinking of my apartment makes me groan.

Who in the hell do I even call to fix the window?

I wonder if I could just hide in here and pretend that I'm somewhere and someone else…

I scoff to myself. I might not know my husband, but I know him well enough to know that he wouldn't let me bury my head in the sand. Speaking of my husband, I'm sure he's on the other side of the door, ready to verbally spar with me. I bet he even thinks last night was my fault.

Reluctantly, I get out of bed and straighten the covers. I pause at the closed bedroom door and take a deep breath, preparing myself for the conversation I'm about to have.

Pull up your big girl panties. I chastise myself.

I open the door and head toward the front of Declan's place. At the edge of the hall, I look around the apartment and frown.

Where is Declan?

The apartment is empty, with the exception of me.

I was sure that he would be out here waiting to confront me, yet he's not here.

He isn't in the shower, is he?

I shake away the thought. I would have heard the water running when I was in the bedroom and the bathroom door was open with the light off.

Why am I even questioning this? Declan's absence is a gift. Rushing forward, I open the front door, only to jump back when the man in front of it turns toward me.

"Everything okay, Mrs. O'Brien?"

I smile awkwardly. "Everything is fine. I'm just going over to my place to get ready for the day."

Before I'm even finished speaking, the guard is shaking his head with a sympathetic look on his face. "I'm sorry, Mrs. O'Brien, but I can't let you do that. Your husband left specific instructions to make sure you stay here until he gets back."

I let go of the door and cross my arms. Of fucking course he did.

"And pray tell, where is my husband?"

"Out."

I huff, rolling my eyes. "Are you sure I can't run across the hall to get a change of clothes at least?"

The guard cringes. "I'm afraid not. If you would like, I could call your husband and tell him you would like to see him."

"Don't bother," I mutter, slamming the door shut.

For a split second, I feel bad for being rude to the man on the other side of the door. He's just doing as he was told, and I respect that, but still, my anger takes hold.

I grab the thing closest to me, which happens to be a bowl on a table next to the door and chuck it across the room. It hits the wall and shatters. Blind rage takes over.

It's not fair.

I didn't ask for any of this.

I didn't ask for the family I was born into.

I didn't ask to become a Mafia wife.

I didn't ask for someone to try and kill me.

Nothing. I asked for absolutely fucking nothing.

Pounding on the door snaps me out of my destruction.

"Mrs. O'Brien, are you okay in there? Do I need to come in?" the guard yells as he pounds on the door.

"I'm fine," I yell back, my voice slightly shaking.

"Are you sure?" he asks reluctantly through the door.

"I'm positive."

Breathing heavily, I look around the room. Holy shit. I can't believe I did all this, I think, as I look around and see all the broken glass and the table next to the door is lying on its side on the floor.

He's going to be furious.

The thought shakes me to my core and sends me spiraling down a memory I thought I had forgotten.

I walk into my bedroom and pause when I hear sobbing coming from my closet. Slowly, I walk toward the sound. I pause right outside the door and reach into my pocket, slipping my fingers into the brass knuckles I carry with me.

With my weapon in place, I step into the closet and turn on the light.

I jerk back when I see my sister, Galinia, huddled in the corner looking completely disheveled and sporting two black eyes.

"Galinia," I gasp, rushing forward.

She flinches away from me, leaning into the wall.

"What happened? Who did this to you?"

She half sobs and half laughs. "Never trust a man, Nikita. Promise me."

I shake my head, frowning. "I don't understand. Who did this? What happened to you?"

She reaches out and grabs my forearm so tight that her nails dig into my skin, making me hiss.

"This is what happens when you anger a man who claims to love you." She shakes her head, sobbing. "He treated me so well too. I thought it would be different this time and that he wanted me for me. He didn't see me as a whore. He always asked for my opinion and listened to me when I talked." She slams a palm over her heart. "I thought he saw me, but then I messed up. I broke a plate by accident. It just slipped, and then he snapped. He yelled at me and told me this is why whores can't have nice things. That we are only good on our backs or knees."

"Who is he, Galinia?" I demand.

"I thought he loved me!" she sobs, ignoring my question.

As my sister bawls, I can't help but feel sorry for her. It's obvious that she loved this man, but it's clear that he didn't feel the same way.

You don't know that, a little voice whispers in my ear.

It's not uncommon for men to beat their wives when they step out of line and mess up. I've seen my father do it along with other married men when the women in their lives don't behave up to their standards.

I shake my head as resolve settles into my bones.

This is just another reason I will never let a man in, let alone fall in love.