Page 111 of The Endless Want

“Got a minute?”

“Depends,” he says. “Are you calling to fight with me or work with me?”

“Work,” I answer.

“Alright then,” Liam murmurs. “Talk.”

I take a breath and lean my hip against the counter. “Five months ago I decided that reaching for Ailish while Conor had my job would look like I was reaching for yours.”

Liam doesn’t respond immediately. I can hear him thinking, tapping something lightly on his desk, maybe a pen, maybe a knife. With him it’s always a toss-up.

“I know,” he says finally.

That stops me flat. “You knew.”

“Declan, I’ve known since you stopped being able to say her name in a normal voice.” A pause. “I was curious how long pride was going to cost you.”

I run a hand over my jaw, grounding myself. “It’s cost me enough. I’m not doing this in hallways anymore. I want it said out loud. To the family, to the Rossos, to whoever’s still keeping score. That she’s carrying my child. That I’m standing next to her, in the open, and anyone with a problem about either one can bring it to me.”

The silence stretches, and this one is different. Heavier. Charged.

“Declan,” Liam says, low and careful.

“I’m not asking lightly,” I press.

“And I’m not asking for the role to be handed to her. I’m asking what the rules are. What the price is. What I need to do.”

Liam exhales once, slow and controlled. “You really want the answer to that?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” he says. “Then listen carefully.”

I straighten, every nerve on alert.

“Don’t ask,” he says quietly, “unless you’re ready to bleed for her.”

I swallow hard. “I am.”

“We’ll see,” Liam murmurs. “Finish your mission today. Then come back with a clear head. We’ll talk.”

“Understood.”

The line clicks off.

CHAPTER 34

Ailish

By the time I step into the training room, the air already smells faintly of gun oil and floor mats warming under the overhead lights. It’s become a familiar scent over the past weeks—one I never expected would feel grounding.

Mackenzie is stretching her arms, rolling her shoulders like she’s preparing for a marathon rather than a weapons session held over Zoom with Ronan. Nadia lounges against a wall, scrolling through her phone while tapping her boot rhythmically against the floor. She looks bored, but the spark in her eyes always gives away how alert she really is.

Declan hovers at my side like a nervous bodyguard disguised as a tyrant. He’s making sure I don’t lift anything heavier than a water bottle, though I’m only halfway through my pregnancy and still mobile enough to sprint if needed. He keeps acting like I might faint or break in half. I swear he watches the angle of every step I take.

“Ronan says he’s logging on in two minutes,” Mackenzie announces, tying her hair back. “Everyone ready?”

“I’m ready,” I say.