We wrangle kids while the party hums around us. Mom made a brief appearance. She was, as always, controlled, brittle, and perfect. I’m relieved when she leaves. Cal and Declan already fed her our fake London trip story. It’s all she needs to know. Nobody told her about the real reason behind the story. She has no idea that there are people trying to kill me so they can collect on a bounty.
She said she’d back it all up. That she loaned us the jet for the dates Declan gave her. That she’d make sure the flight shows in some log somewhere. And she’ll inform him ifanyone asks about it.
It sounded practiced. Like she’s done this before.
I have no doubt she has.
I assume Declan told her it’s all part of the protection plan. And she evidently didn’t question him. I’m sure she’s cooperating because she probably wants this whole thing wrapped up quickly so she can get me back under her full control again.
I slip away for a moment when I get the chance, snag a glass of whiskey, and take it into the hallway.
Standing there, I watch.
Declan moves easily from group to group, smiling, charming, shaking hands with men I know are monsters, and men who just wear nicer suits.
I’m safe with Declan.
I repeat it like a spell. I don’t know if it’s true. I just know the alternative is worse.
A man appears at my side, as quiet as a shadow. When I turn to look, I recognize him as the cousin who has shown up at the house. I’ve heard his name. Roark. “Your man pulled it off,” he murmurs. “Time will tell if the story holds. Some people want those photos of you to be real.”
My throat tightens. “Do you think… they’ll believe they aren’t? I mean, I’d never—” The words die in my mouth. I would never do something that stupid. At least, not the part of it that involved cops and cartel.
Roark smiles, a dark little curve that makes me want to back away. “Theyweredeep fakes. You got lucky falling in with the Murphy clan. Don’t fuck it up.”
I want to ask him if that means I’m safe. If the hit’s off. If I can go. If I can be free.
My tongue won’t move. My feet are nailed to the floor.
“I don’t think I’m the type people look at and see ‘criminal mastermind,’” I say instead. “And I’m glad you Murphys have my back.”
I pull in a breath and turn to say more.
But Roark is gone.
Leon appears in his place.
Behind him, watching from across the room, is Declan.
His expression is murder and possession and cold, sharpened ire.
And as Leon inches toward me, Declan moves forward, too, like a weapon drawn just for this occasion.
My pulse spikes.
Because suddenly the room is too small for both of them.
And I have no idea which man is about to pull the trigger.
NINETEEN
declan
“Look who came,Molly girl, the first in a legion of your exes.” I eye Leon, fighting the fury creeping up the back of my throat.
After all, I told her to invite him.
“Fuck you,” he growls at me.
