I turn to my side, pulling the blanket up to my shoulder as I wonder if Finn and I can ever go back to how things used to be. The possibility feels so far away now. We're always arguing, and now everything is different. I'm a spy here. I'm not supposed to feel. I'm supposed to gather information and leave.
I can't get distracted.
I bite down on my bottom lip as the events of yesterday come rushing back. I reach to the back of my head, and it's less sore. I know things with Finn are complicated, too complicated. But last night... Last night felt like a glimpse of the man I used to know.
I saw him smile yesterday. I saw the softness in his eyes. He was sweet and careful with me. He even apologized for all the mean things he said. I know Vito warned me not to get distracted, but Finn is starting to tear down my wall.
The kiss.
I brush my finger lightly across my lips, remembering the way he had felt on mine. My brain and heart were at war the moment he leaned in. I tried to resist. But I gave in, and even now, I don't regret it.
I grab the blanket and pull it over my head, screaming into it.
CHAPTER 11
Finn
I stopin front of Gianna's door, my hand raised in a hesitant pause, fingers curled into a loose fist. For a moment, I consider knocking, checking in to know how she's doing, but I let my hand drop.
I'll send Bernard to take her food up. She doesn't need more pressure today. She doesn't need to face William or Declan, not after everything that happened yesterday. She deserves at least a moment of peace. The kiss we shared plays in my mind like a stereo all through last night, and even now, it's all I can think of.
I turn and walk down the hallway to the elevator. As I press the button, I glance at my wrist to check the time. 7AM. A whole day ahead filled with paperwork and meetings. I can't avoid breakfast again.
As much as I would rather chew glass than sit at the same table with William, I don't want Declan to be pissed. I have to be on his good side to keep Gianna around. The elevator door slides open with a low chime. I step in, run a hand through my hair, and take a deep breath.
A few seconds pass before the elevator glides open again, revealing the hallway that leads to the dining room. The scentof freshly brewed coffee and pancakes drifts in the air. I move toward the doorway. Inside, they're all seated. Declan is as composed and unreadable as ever; William, with that smug air he can't seem to wipe off even with a busted nose. James, quiet and focused, and then a face I didn't expect to see.
My eyes lock on her, a flicker of surprise shooting through me. Ailish is seated with perfect posture, long lashes casting shadows, and she tilts her head to something Declan says.
They don't sit in a particular order but scattered around the table like chess pieces waiting to make a move. They all turn to me as I enter, and my eyes land on William, his nose still swollen and red, and it makes me feel good.
"Welcome back, Ailish," I say to her as I take my seat opposite her. I position myself deliberately, far enough from William and James. Declan sits at the head of the table. One hand rests flat on the polished table, and the other rests on the armrest.
Ailish gives me a small nod, her sharp brown eyes flickering up to meet mine. "Thank you," she replies, her voice calm and deliberate as always. There's a calmness to her tone, but underneath lies something more: calculation and awareness. She doesn't miss a thing. She's been away for about two weeks now.
Declan had sent her on a special mission, but I didn't expect her to return anytime soon. She's smart, tough, and is Declan's close confidante, hence my respect for her. The scent of warm pancakes, syrup, crispy bacon, and freshly scrambled eggs wafts up from the platter. But the thing I'm most eager to chug down is the red wine.
I reach for the glass, sending a decent amount of red wine down my throat, the alcohol burning slightly as it slides down. It's not even eight in the morning, but I need something to dull the weight in the room.
The table is unusually silent. The tension from last night still coils in the air like smoke from a smoldering fire. No one says a word, and Declan's silence feels even louder than most men's shouting.
Ailish lifts a brow. "Why is the table so silent?" she asks, her tone light, but laced with curiosity. Then, her eyes sweep the room, landing on William. "And would someone explain to me why William's nose looks like it was used to break concrete?"
Her gaze flickers between all of us, waiting.
I clench my jaw and look away from her, reaching for my wine again. I'm not ready to talk about last night. Even if she's Declan's most trusted confidante, that doesn't mean I owe her any explanation. The silence stretches until James chuckles. The sound is dry, almost mocking.
"Finn was ready to break more than his nose yesterday," he says with a crooked grin, leaning back in his chair. William shifts, glaring at him. His ego is still bruised, and so is his face. I don't say anything as I take another sip of my wine.
Ailish looks at me again, raising her brow, waiting for me to fill in the blanks. When I don't, she turns to James for answers. "He did it because of a girl." Ailish blinks, her lips curling into a faint smirk.
"A girl?" she echoes, amused. Still, Declan says nothing as the little discussion holds.
"Are we having breakfast or what?" William cuts through the discussion, and I wonder why Declan hasn't started eating.
"We're waiting on someone," Declan says plainly. No, it can't be. "Who?" Ailish asks, and the door creaks open. Gianna walks in with Alex by her side. She's wearing a simple top that falls slightly on her shoulder and a black pair of jeans. Her hair is a low ponytail dangling behind her.
She shouldn't be here. I don't want her to be, especially not with Ailish here.
