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"Ah, but Declan's loyalty only stretches as far as his own interests, doesn't it?" Frankie sneers, his gaze sharp and accusatory. "Now that he's the top dog, who's to say he won't eliminate Marcus’s heirs as threats?"
“Bullshit,” I retort, my voice dripping with contempt. “Declan and my father were like brothers. He’s done nothing but look after us since our father’s death. I think you’re just trying to sow seeds of discord so we’ll start fighting each other and leave it easier for you to pick us off.”
“Whatever floats your boat,” Frankie says, a cruel smirk on his face. “You’ll see. Good luck, cretino.” He pulls Isabella into him, walking away rapidly.
Liam turns to face me when they’re out of earshot, giving me a once-over to make sure I’m fine. I wave him off and frown.
“Those gobshites are up to something,” I tell him, ignoring the people passing by us now that the confrontation is over. “What's with the DeLuccis thinking Declan's got a knife behind his back for us?" I mutter, a gnawing doubt creeping in. "Three years since Dad's gone, and Declan's kept things steady. Why shake it up now?"
“Mr. O’Malley thinks of you boys as family,” Liam says, his deep voice calm despite the anger in his blue eyes. “When Marcus was killed, he lost a brother. You’re all he has left. Whatever the DeLuccis are sayin’ is horseshit. All they wanna do is make trouble for ye.”
I breathe out, pinching the bridge of my nose. The DeLuccis are stirring trouble, but Liam's right. Declan wouldn't betray us. But a seed of doubt takes root as we return to Callahan turf, my mind churning with unanswered questions about Declan's intentions.
I recall how quickly Declan made his move to take over as head of the Family after Dad’s death. He claimed it was vital that we remain strong so we don’t look weak in front of our enemies. But is that why he did it or was there some other motive?
Just before we part ways, Liam leans in, his expression darkening, and he hesitates a moment before speaking.
“There's something else you need to know, Oliver… about Declan.”
10
EVANGELINE
When I wake, all I can think about is how I threw myself at the Everharts, just as they claimed. Have I really become the slut they claimed I am? My stomach churns, anger and humiliation burning inside me.
How could I lower myself to their level like that? I should never have let them in last night. It might have felt good at the time, but in the cold light of day, it just seems pathetic.
What is going to happen now that they know they have me at their mercy? Will the torment get worse? Will they demand my services at the snap of a finger?
Maybe if I just avoid them, they’ll get bored and leave me alone.
Easier said than done when the first person I run into is none other than the devil himself—Ryder Everhart.
As I enter the kitchen, I spot him leaning against the counter, a scowl etched deep into his features, arms crossed tightly over his chest. A muscle in his jaw ticks, giving away his frustration.
“Why haven’t you started breakfast yet, little brat?” Ryder demands, voice dripping with contempt. I notice a faint flicker of tension in him, as though he’s struggling to keep his composure. “I need my friggin’ coffee. You know that!”
“I’m just about to start,” I reply, keeping my tone soft and submissive. I’ve learned to keep myself small and non-threatening to make myself less of a target.
“Then get on it,” Ryder says, curling his lip into a sneer. “I’m going crazy being cooped up in this damned house,” he mutters. “Theo thinks he can boss me around and tell me to behave myself like some wild kid. I’m not a petulant child.”
I hold back the urge to reach out and comfort him, not realizing until now that this is Ryder on his best behavior. Has he been holding back all this time just to stay in Theo’s good graces?
“I can bring it to you in your office,” I offer, trying to find a measure of peace between us.
“Where else would I freakin’ want it?” Ryder snarls, the hostility seeming more like a façade now. “I mean, it’s not like you’re good for anything else.”
All compassion I might have had for him falls away as I realize that neither Ryder nor his brothers will ever stop being cruel assholes, no matter how nice I act.
“I’ll bring it to you as soon as it’s ready, sir,” I say softly. He leaves, leaving a bitter taste on my tongue as I consider the consequences of my decision to work here.
I took this job to make a new life for myself, to give myself a fresh start away from the cruel torment of my father. Instead, I found myself new tormentors here, ones who are far worse than my father had ever been.
Maybe this job with its free room and board and high pay isn’t worth it anymore. The whine of the espresso machine seems to mock me, reminding me that I’ll never be part of their world. I’ll always be their servant.
I hate myself. I’m so weak and pathetic for letting these men use and hurt me like this. Why can’t I be strong and stand up to them for once?
Humiliation washes over me, and I feel bile rise in my throat, the disgust rapidly turning to morning sickness. I bend over the trashcan, retching up the contents of my stomach.
