"What?" I say, narrowing my gaze.
"Things with the Italians are heating up. They intercepted our shipment," Declan says, his voice harsh and filled withvenom like he needs a target to direct all that bottled rage, and of course, Gianna is the perfect victim.
"She already proved to you that she didn't do it," I snap back, reminding him of what he made her endure. "She tortured one of her own in front of everyone. You watched her."
Declan scoffs, no remorse in his expression. "Anyone can fake that, Finn, especially someone who's been planted in our midst as a mole."
My jaw tightens and my nose twitches as I struggle to contain the heat rising in me. "So you made her go through that for nothing." I knew he was up to no good when he told her to do that. Declan is a tougher shell to crack.
Declan closes his eyes, like he's forcing himself to breathe. That's his pattern; he pauses before he strikes. And when he opens his eyes, the calm is gone.
"I've let you play with her for far too long already." He leans forward, his voice low but firm. "You had your fun. Now, it's time to put your head in the game."
I stiffen. Gianna is not a game to me. She never was, and it's starting to become clear that neither Declan, Ailish, nor anyone in that estate cares. All they see is a Rosso. A liability. A ticking time bomb.
"Declan..." I start, but he cuts me off before I can plead my case. "You think I'm going to sit back and watch the Italians play us," he barks, "when we have one of them right under our roof? You want me to ignore that?"
"Gianna is innocent," I say again, and this time with more force.
Declan slams his fist on the desk, the sound thunderous. He shoots out of the chair, eyes blazing. "Get your head out of the clouds, Finn!" he yells. "She's not innocent. I don't believe for a second Vito threw her out."
I meet his gaze, heart pounding in my chest, torn between blood loyalty and something deeper, something real. He leans forward, resting his palm on the desk. "I'll make Vito pay for what he did. No one messes with the Irish without consequences."
My brows draw together. "What do you mean?" I ask, knowing Declan never makes empty threats. Declan is quiet. He slowly moves into his seat to get comfortable. "What are you going to do, Declan?" I ask, fear lacing my voice.
CHAPTER 20
Gianna
The waterfrom the shower is warm, soothing my muscles, cleansing away the residue of sweat, dust, and blood left on me. But I was right—no matter how the water runs, it can't scrub away the memory of the interrogation room. That image is carved deeply into me now. I squeeze a generous amount of Finn's shampoo into my palm and lather it into my hair. The sharp coolness of the peppermint hits first, followed by the soft citrus undertone. It relaxes me, dulling the edge of my nerves.
After getting my hair clean, I remain under the shower for an extra minute too long. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, letting the water drum against my shoulders. I don't want to part with the soothing fall of the water and the sense of comfort it gives me, but I can't stay here forever, just as I can't hide from my problems.
Eventually, I reach out and turn off the shower. The sudden silence is jarring.
I grab the black robe just within reach, stepping out carefully before wrapping it tightly around myself. I reach for another towel to wrap my dripping hair before spreading it on a nearbyshelf. The mirror above the sink is slightly fogged, and I wipe a hand across it, my reflection staring back at me.
I reach for the hairdryer, plugging it into a socket close to the mirror. Just as Finn said, about thirty minutes ago, Bernard had shown up with everything I needed. This hairdryer included. I turn it on and dry my hair for another six minutes before stepping into the room.
It's getting pretty late, and Finn isn't back yet. He didn't say exactly what he wanted to sort out, but I'm starting to feel a bit worried. I know what it means when a deal falls through with dangerous men. There are consequences, and sometimes it can be violent. I couldn't care less what losing the shipment does to Declan. Let the whole empire burn down for all I care, but I hope it doesn't affect Finn.
I walk to the bedside and pick up my phone, reading his last message.
Good, I'll have Bernard bring you dinner and clothes to change into. Don't go anywhere.
Finn cares about me, and he's probably the only one out there that gives a shit what happens to me. I don't know if I can go on with this game anymore. When I think of it, a part of me aches knowing I'm lying to him.
I sigh and drop the phone, changing into the button-up sweatshirt and pants Bernard had picked out for me. I turn to the tray of dinner, sitting on the bed. I only had a few bites of waffles and a sip of smoothie this morning before everything went down. My stomach growls at the sight of the mac and cheese on the plate.
I sit on the bed, trying to at least force the meal down my throat. The door slowly opens, and my heart thrums against my chest, fear nipping at the edge of my mind, but it slowlydisappears when I see Finn. Instant relief floods over me. Finn's eyes flicker from me to the left and right of the hallway outside the door.
He looks a bit out of it. "Is everything okay?" I ask, worry evident in my voice.
Finn closes the door and walks to me. "We need to leave," he says, quietly like he's afraid someone might hear him.
"What?" I ask, my brow raised in confusion. Finn doesn't answer. He moves quickly to his office, and I follow him. "What's going on?" I ask again, and he meets my eyes.
"We need to leave the estate," Finn says, moving towards the bookshelf. Without hesitation, he pushes it aside with one hand, revealing a hidden wall safe behind it. My brow furrows in surprise. Who would have thought something like this was tucked away in here? But that's not important right now.
