Usually,I would be surprised when Alex told me Declan wanted me to join him for breakfast. But nothing surprises me anymore in this estate. Every day chips away at the edges of my expectations until numbness is the only armor I have left. Despite my reluctance, I follow Alex. Spending time with Declan is necessary if I want to know what he's planning. I have to get close.
Closer than I would like, but right now, sitting here under Ailish's hateful gaze, I regret leaving my room. Ailish, that's what Declan calls her. I thought the worst had ended yesterday with William, but it turns out I was wrong.
Why isn't she backing down? Even Declan has no problem with me here, or so I think.
Why is she calling me so many names and watching me like I'm dirt that needs to be scraped off her shoes, like my presence alone is contaminating the room? Every word she spits, every sneer on her lips, is laced with venom.
If Declan didn't stop the exchange, I'm sure she would jump across the table and rip my head off. The room is quiet as theyeat. I half expect words to be thrown around, and maybe I can pick up on something that might be useful to Vito.
I glance at Declan. He's eating like none of this is happening, like he didn't just invite a powder keg to breakfast and light the match himself.
I look down at Finn's palm resting gently over mine, his warmth anchoring me to this moment. A soft breath leaves my lips. His touch tells me everything I need to know. He wants me to feel safe. He's still in my corner, and it melts my heart to know he cares for me.
I lift the coffee cup to my lips, the bitter heat grounding me further, and my eyes unintentionally go to William. His nose is still swollen and bruised. I don't feel an ounce of guilt. If anything, a flicker of satisfaction coils in my chest. Serves him right.
But even satisfaction doesn't last, not under the weight of Ailish's unrelenting stare.
Every time I glance up from my barely touched plate, Ailish's stare remains on me. Like she's trying to read my mind, or, worse, see through me entirely. It makes me uncomfortable. Despite her intense hatred for me, her sharp tongue, her ability to slice through silence with a single glance, Ailish is beautiful. Objectively so. Her brown eyes and brunette hair complement her skin perfectly. The outline of her lips, jaw, and eyebrows is perfect, reminding me of Sofia.
Oh god, I miss Rina, Sofia, and Elena. How long do I have to sit at tables like this, surrounded by wolves, before the Irish trust me? Before I stop being a Rosso in their eyes? Ailish seems like a hard one to win over. She looks at me like she can see right through my lies. I sigh softly, playing with my food. The pancake, bacon, and egg all look appetizing, but I can't stomach anything right now.
How am I supposed to swallow food with this amount of hateful gaze targeted towards me?
Finn squeezes my hand and leans closer. "Why aren't you eating?" he whispers, his brows drawing together.
"I'm full," I say, even though what I'm full of is how unwanted I am in this room.
"You barely had anything," he says, catching me in my lie.
"I just can't eat," I whisper, the words barely making it past the lump in my throat. My appetite has long vanished, swallowed whole by the tension hanging over this table like a thundercloud. There's no point forcing food down my throat; all I can taste is unease.
I decide that since I'm not getting any useful information, I might as well just leave instead of subjecting myself to this torture. Finn leans in, his brow furrowed in concern, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that nearly undoes me. "The food's not to your taste. Do you want something else?" Finn asks quietly, his voice low enough not to draw attention.
I shake my head, trying to offer him a small, grateful smile, but it falls flat. "I want to leave," I murmur. Without waiting for permission, I rise from my seat.
"I need to use the restroom," I say aloud, my voice neutral, hoping no one picks apart the thin excuse. For a moment, I brace for Declan's protest, for some command to sit back down. Surprisingly, he says nothing.
I push the chair back to stand. I turn my back on them and walk out of the dining room with careful steps. But the moment the door closes behind me, I exhale deeply, the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding shaking loose from my chest. My shoulders relax slightly, only slightly.
I walk down the hallway towards the elevator, my boots clicking softly on the floor. I'm halfway to the elevator when I pause, because I hear something. Voices. I freeze. Two ofDeclan's guards are speaking; their backs are to me as they move slowly down an intersecting hallway up ahead. I don't recognize them from behind, but neither of them is Alex. Alex has a broader build and a way of walking that's easy to spot.
I take a step back, pressing myself against the wall enough to remain out of their vision.
"Yes, I spoke to boss about the weapon shipment," one of them says. His voice is low, gruff, but clear enough in the quiet corridor. Bingo. My pulse quickens. This is the kind of information I've been waiting for. Instead of continuing to the elevator, I follow at a distance, slowly trailing the men, creating enough space not to get caught. "Where is the shipment headed?" the second man asks, his tone more cautious, maybe even skeptical.
"Boston. We move at dawn."
Boston. Dawn. I engrave the words into my brain like carving into stone. I make sure I also get the pick-up and drop-off point before I stop following them. They turn into a corner, and their hushed voices disappear with them. I wait a beat, making sure they're gone before allowing myself to breathe again.
This is it. I know this isn't enough for Vito, but this is a start. I have to tell him.
I turn away from the men and almost trip when I see Ailish. She stands, her head tilted to the side, her brows raised, her arms crossed across her chest. My heart drops to my stomach, and my breath catches.
"What are you doing?" she asks. This is the first time since we met that she speaks directly to me. Oh, no. Did she catch me? Am I done for? I swallow, my mind racing. If she caught me, she wouldn't ask me a question. She doesn't seem like someone who has a lot of patience.
"I was looking for the kitchen," I answer without a hint of a lie. I can't be caught. Not yet.
Ailish drops her arms with a scoff, narrowing her gaze at me. "You said you were going to the bathroom."
