I look away from the secret passageway and head to the elevator. I press the button, my eyes flicking to my watch to check the time. I didn't tell Gianna I was coming to see Liam.I don't want her to worry; she already has enough on her plate with the wedding preparation.
The door slides open, and I step into the elevator, watching as the door slides closed. I let the music coming from the elevator distract me from thinking about why Liam would want to see me. We already agreed that I won't involve myself in the family business. Well... not until I'm ready.
The elevator jerks to a stop, and the door slides open. I take a deep breath and step into the hallway. I walk down the hall and stop in front of what used to be my room. I take the key card from my pocket and press it to the door. It clicks open, and I push it open, stepping into the room. Everything is the same. The curtains are still drawn halfway, the faint morning light slipping through the folds in golden strips.
The blanket on the bed is rumpled, exactly the way we left it. No one's been in here. This space was always mine; I never let anyone have access to it. Memories of when I returned to my room after Gianna got here flash across my mind. I was such a mess that I didn't even realize how I felt for her. Then my mind jerks forward, to the time I brought her here after she tortured that man. She'd been barely conscious, blood still fresh on her hand. She woke up screaming in my arms.
And then the packing. The chaos. Clothes thrown into bags, heart in my throat, knowing we had to get out before it was too late. I blink, dragging myself out of the past.
I step into the study. The bookshelf groans slightly as I push it back, revealing the steel safe embedded in the wall. I punch the code in, and the lock clicks open. Inside remain the few stacks of cash I left behind, spare passports, and a few drives.
I grab a duffel bag from under the desk, unzip it, and start filling. Money. IDs. One of the old burner phones. When I zip it up, I stand there for a second. My eyes trail over the desk. Thebed. The photograph on my desk. I don't know if I'll ever return. A part of me hopes not.
I leave the room and head to Gianna's. The door creaks open when I push it. My stomach turns. Everything has been trashed. Clothes thrown everywhere. Sheets torn from the bed. I step slowly, surveying the mess. They were looking for something... or maybe just punishing her absence.
I close her door quietly. Almost like an apology. Then I turn toward the elevator, the weight of the duffel on my shoulder, and press the button.
The elevator door slides open, and I step into the hallway. The hall is filled with people, moving in and out of offices. Voices mix together as orders fly in the air. I notice I don't even recognize many of the guards. It's clear Liam is making some serious changes around here. I pass by what would have been Declan's P.A. office.
She isn't there. Would be weird if she was.
Liam is a very thorough person. Nothing slips past him. I ignore the chaos and continue to walk down the hall to what used to be Declan's office. The noise fades as I get closer to the office. I stop in front of the office and knock before pushing it open.
The air shifts the moment I enter. I'm pulled back to that moment, where I was beaten by James and William. When Declan spared me no mercy. When I thought I'd lost Gianna forever as William carried her out. The memory hangs in the room, thick and suffocating.
"Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?" Liam's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I blink, looking away from that spot that held my gaze, and focus on Liam. I walk further into the office, and Liam closes the space between us, pulling me into a brotherly hug. I would admit I still find it weird to hug or be in the presence of Liam, but this is how it's going to be now.
I pull away, and he taps my shoulder like a proud father acknowledging his son. "Sit," he says, with so much enthusiasm that I find odd. I drop the duffel bag on the desk and pull a chair out, dropping into it. Almost everything looks the same, down to the old bookshelf and the antique lamp on the side of the table. Except for one thing: the nameplate on the desk has been changed to Liam Costello from Declan Costello.
"You're doing a lot of renovations to the place," I say, breaking the silence as Liam takes his seat at the head of the desk with a soft grunt.
He nods, relaxing into the chair. "How are wedding plans going?" He throws a question at me. I nod, running a hand through my hair.
"It's going okay," I answer, glancing at my watch. I don't want to stay so long that Gianna starts to worry. "Is there somewhere you need to be?" Liam asks, and I raise my head from my wrist to meet his eyes.
"Yeah," I say, making up excuses. "Gianna and I need to head somewhere in preparation for the wedding."
"I can't promise not to take too much of your time," he says, wrapping his hand around the bottle of rum on his desk. He pours it into two empty glasses. "Gianna will just have to forgive me this time."
He slides the bottle across the table towards me, and I catch it before it slips off the edge. "No coffee today?" I ask, lifting the glass and pouring a decent amount into my mouth, basking in the warmth as it burns through my throat, working its way to my stomach.
"Nah," he replies, waving his hand. "I saved this just for us." Liam takes a sip from his cup, dropping the glass softly on the desk. "So, are you feeling it yet?" My brows draw together.
"Feeling what?" I ask.
"You know. Wedding jitters?" he asks, taking another sip with a smirk on his face.
I shake my head. "I don't know about wedding jitters," I say. Liam is the last person I'd take advice from, especially when it comes to relationships. He once tried to kidnap someone and force them to marry him. "What I am nervous about is the reason you called me here."
Liam nods, his face becoming serious. He rests his hand on the desk, locking his fingers together. "I know you think all of this is over. And you might want to relax," he says, and my heart races. "But I want you to be alert."
"Why?" I ask, leaning forward. "What's going on?"
"Nothing... for now," he says, running his hand through his hair before loosening his tie. "Declan might be out of power, but not all his loyalists have disappeared." I feared this would happen. This is why the estate is crawling with security.
"There are rumors that some Irish territories in Boston and Philly are stirring rebellion," he adds.
"What are you doing about this? Have you sent someone to investigate?" I ask, my mind launching into work mode.
