1. Declan

DECLAN

Sometimes,I get tired of the violence, but it's a means to an end. I'm ready for this war to start. Today. So, I did what I had to do. Crossed a line I never had before.

Usually, I enjoy the sight of a woman tied up and begging me for mercy. Especially when I'm balls deep inside her.

But I can't say I mind it now either as I stare into the heated eyes of the daughter of my family's sworn enemy.

I look down into the wide, beautiful eyes of Bree Murphy. She looks like her lowlife father, but in the best possible way. She won the genetic lottery with her small, upturned features, wide, bright eyes, and her pouty, heart-shaped mouth. But the thing that's confusing me is what's in those hazel eyes.

Fear, of course. She's terrified, and she should be. I've taken her from her home, kidnapped her, tied her to a chair in my father's panic room. But it's not just fear in her eyes. There's something more. Something... defiant.

I have to admit, it intrigues me.

I can't deny that Bree, squirming in her seat, the leather restraints digging into her wrists and ankles marking her alabaster skin, turns me on. Her cheeks are flushed, a slight sheen to her skin as she tries to pull herself free. Add to the fact that she's wearing a silk cami and shorts that show off her long legs and full tits, I'm practically a goner.

Too bad she's a dirty Murphy.

And I can only blame myself for my growing erection and choosing to kidnap her in the middle of the night.

At least she doesn't sleep naked…

I clear my throat and look at my brother, trying to ignore the sensation of blood rushing to my cock.

"What now?" I demand, perching against the mahogany desk that takes up most of my father's office, crossing one ankle over the other.

My brother Gray simply rolls his eyes, lounging on the leather sofa in the corner of the room, sipping a glass of whiskey.

"Slice off a finger and send it to Niall?"

Gray chuckles, taking a swig of the amber liquid.

"This isn't some seventies gangsta movie shit," my father snaps from behind me where he sits at the desk, going through some documents.

"I thought you'd be a little more pleased with my efforts, Da." My eyes flick back to Bree, whose hazel eyes stay locked on mine—filled with loathing, and that something extra that is driving me crazy.

"What do you think, Bree?" I tilt my head to the side, letting a smirk tug at my lips.

Her eyes flash, but she stays silent.

"Maybe we cut out your tongue instead since you apparently don't use it much? Though maybe I keep that for myself." I chuckle.

She flushes a beautiful shade of pink, but if looks could kill, I'd be long buried by now.

"Simmer down, Declan. I've taught you better than that. She's the daughter of an enemy, not our enemy himself. We treat women with the utmost respect."

He is right. Even considering our line of "business," there are lines we don't cross, and mistreating women is one of them. Which is why she doesn't have a single mark on her.

But I'm so ready for this war to start already, and taking her was the only way to make that happen.

I'm looking down at Bree.

Damn. Her skin looks like silk. I bet it's soft too.

Doesn't matter.

"She has his blood. Works with him. That makes her an enemy too."

"Not for much longer." He rises from behind the desk and walks over to Bree, taking her chin in his hand and tilting her head up.

She bares her teeth like a cornered animal, and I smile.

She has bite. Many would be screaming, begging for their lives if they encountered the head of the Burke family and his two heirs. But not Bree Murphy.

"Wanting to claim the kill for yourself, Da?" Gray sets his empty glass down on the table beside him.

"The opposite."

I frown, watching as my father tilts Bree's face left, then right. "I don't understand."

"You need to clean up this mess," Da snaps, letting go of Bree and turning on me. "You had the brilliant idea of kidnapping Niall Murphy's daughter, putting us at the top of his hit list, so you're going to marry her to fix that little predicament."

I blink. Once. Twice.

"Oh fuck!" Gray howls with laughter, clutching his chest as he tries to catch his breath.

"No!" Bree snarls.

All this time, through when I clamped one hand over her mouth, threw her into my arms, and carried her out, she hadn't spoken a single word. She fought me, of course, and I have the claw marks along my forearms to prove it. She'd even gotten in a swift kick to my nether regions that is still aching, but she hadn't screamed. She had kept that pretty mouth closed, and I almost found it intriguing.

I guess this is her line.

But this is kind of my line too.

My eyes go to my dad. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm deadly serious."

"Never pictured you as the settling down type," Gray teases, standing up and strolling over to the bar cart.

I clench my hands into fists and round on my father.

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" I spit. "Why not Gray? He's the oldest."

"Fuck off." Gray chuckles as he lifts the lid of the whiskey decanter and pours himself another large glass. "She's what, nineteen?"

"Twenty-one," I correct.

Gray cocks an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah no. I like mine with a little experience if you catch my drift. No offense, little girl." He winks in Bree's direction.

She bares her teeth, straining against the leather bindings once more, making her tits bounce.

Fuck.

I try to erase the image from my mind as I try to work through my racing thoughts.

"No, not happening." I shake my head.

"Too late. Gray is too old for her, and you need to suffer the consequences of your actions." My father jams his index finger into my chest.

Despite the fact that I'm a six-foot-two adult man, my stomach still twists at the look of disappointment in his gray eyes.

"I don't see how marrying the daughter of our enemy is going to solve our issues with Niall. If anything, you're adding fuel to the fire."

"Yeah. You don't scream son-in-law of the year," Gray chimes in.

"Fuck off, Gray."

"Don't get pissy at me, little brother, you poked the sleeping dragon. I was all for letting it rest."

"We should ransom her?—"

Dad's eyes narrow as they snap to me.

When my father decides on something, it might as well be set in stone.

It's just that I never thought I would get married.

I'm no slouch, but I'm just not interested in romantic entanglements outside the bedroom. I'm the type of man with blood on my hands, and I can't imagine ever letting a woman get close enough to see it.

And I may not be what I would call a womanizer, but I don't discriminate. A beautiful woman is a beautiful woman, and they're all welcome to warm my bed for a night or two. Maybe three, if they're lucky.

Lately, I've been more focused on growing the Burke name.

And, of course, one day, I'll have to worry about having an heir, but right now? With a Murphy?

I want to help my father keep Niall Murphy out of our territory. Niall's actions have nearly destroyed this family more than once. He is a monster. A snake. And I just want him gone. But at what cost?

My freedom? My sanity?

Sure, she looks good. And sometimes, I wish things were different. Sometimes, I wish I could have a wife, a family, a normal life. But at the same time, I'm terrified of it. If things go the way it went for my mother and father... I don't think I could handle it.

And now that choice has been taken away from me. It is no longer a matter of if I'll get married, but when.

No more women warming my bed. No more being married to the business.

This is happening.

Well, fuck.

My shoulders sag as my father places a hand on my shoulder.

"Father Harrington will be here in two hours. Send Paige in here to help Bree get ready."

Two hours?

"I won't marry him!" Bree cries. "I won't do it! You can't make me!"

Ignoring Bree's pleading, he strolls from the room without a second glance.

"What an interesting turn of events." Gray smirks as he lifts his glass to his lips. "This should be fun."

I close my eyes for a moment and try to take a steadying breath as I work through my options.

I expected to be leaving this room with a corpse, not a bride.

"Give us a moment," I ask Gray as I open my eyes and turn to look at Bree, my jaw aching as I clench it.

"Normally, it's tradition to wait until after you're married to fuck?—"

The snarl that escapes my throat is enough for Gray not to finish that sentence.

I know he's just teasing her. We were taught better than to force ourselves on women or take advantage of them. I may never have considered marriage a real possibility to me, but I was always honest about my intentions. I never mislead any of the women I fucked.

But things have gone way out of my control, and I don't need the added mind fuck.

He shakes his head, chuckling to himself as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

I listen to the sound of my brother's retreating footsteps for a moment before I move to kneel in front of Bree, my eyes roaming her body as she stares down at me with nothing but hatred.

"Seems we're caught in a web, princess," I murmur, taking a finger and tracing it along her calf.

Fuck. Her skin is even softer than it looks. How is that even possible?

"I'd rather die than marry you," Bree hisses through her teeth.

"Perhaps." I'm delighted by the trail of goosebumps my touch leaves on her skin. "But my father is a very demanding man. If a marriage is what he wants, then a marriage is what he gets."

"I didn't peg Declan Burke, the Irish scourge himself, as such a pussy." Bree's cheeks flush. "Doing what daddy says like a good little boy."

"I'd watch yourself, princess," I murmur, trailing my finger up and along her thigh as I snicker at the name.

"The Irish scourge" is a nickname given to me by the Feds, back when they thought they had something on the Burkes. Of course, we'd gotten out of it, like we got out of everything else.

Her body tenses, and I glance up to find her focused on my movements. I smirk as her throat bobs, and a flush creeps along her chest.

"Remember who's in control right now. I wouldn't test my patience if I were you. I wouldn't want to do something I might regret…" My fingers trail higher, teasing her inner thigh.

"You're the one on your knees for me, Burke."

"I'm enjoying the view," I admit, letting my eyes flick down to her chest, the sight of her peaked nipples through the thin silk of her cami making my mouth water.

I can't deny Bree Murphy is hot as fuck, but that doesn't mean I want to slide a ring onto her finger and disappear into the sunset.

Bree's expression turns from one of hatred to disgust as she pulls against the restraints to no avail.

"The only way you can get a woman is by tying her up against her will? You're pathetic," she spits.

I wrap my fingers around her perfect neck and squeeze just hard enough that her eyes widen, and her mouth opens in a delightful little O shape.

Damn. The things I could do with that mouth…

"I suggest you keep that pretty little mouth shut," I snarl, my face barely an inch from hers. A waft of jasmine and vanilla hits my nose, and I bite back a moan.

"Do it," she gasps.

I squeeze a little tighter, our eyes locked.

"I think I'll take advantage of our wedding night first," I threaten before dropping my hand and standing.

"Fuck you!"

"See you at the altar," I head to the door and yank it open, only to find my younger sister Paige strolling toward me, a scowl on her face.

"What did you do?"

"You're needed in there." I jerk a thumb behind me.

She goes to retort but I storm past, not wanting to hear her disapproving comments.

How did I get in so deep?

Kidnapping Bree was meant to send a message to Niall Murphy, a warning not to mess with us. That we are ready for war.

And once he hears I've made his daughter my wife? There will be more than just my balls on the line. He'll come after my fucking head.

I'll be ready for him and all he has.

I'm just not sure if I'm ready for the hazel-eyed menace I'm about to marry.