Chapter 4 - The Storm BreaksDawn came not with sunlight, but with a thick, iron-grey fog that blanketed the Berkshire mountains.
Tessa woke up to the sound of quiet movement.
She opened her eyes, sinking into the soft silk sheets of the massive king-sized bed. The room was cold, lit only by the faint grey light filtering through the high windows.
At the foot of the bed stood Declan.
He was fully dressed in a black tactical uniform—dark reinforced jacket, heavy boots, and a tactical holster strap pulled tightly across his broad chest. A black steel handgun was holstered at his side.
He looked lethal. He looked like the king of monsters preparing for war.
Yet, as he turned and saw her sitting up, the sheet pulled to her collarbone, his pale eyes softened into a look of profound, breathtaking warmth.
He walked over to the side of the bed, kneeling down so he was at eye level with her. He reached out, his gloved thumb gently tracing her bottom lip, which was slightly swollen from the night before.
"Did I wake you?" he asked softly, his voice low and gravelly.
"You're leaving," she said, her heart tightening with a sudden, suffocating anxiety she hadn't expected to feel.
"The strike on O'Connor's Charlestown compound begins in thirty minutes," Declan said smoothly. "Sullivan and thirty of our best men are already in position."
Tessa reached out from beneath the covers, her hand catching his tactical vest, pulling him closer. "Declan... be careful. Liam is desperate. Desperate men don't play by rules."
Declan let out a low, dark chuckle. He leaned in, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to her lips, tasting the sweet warmth of her sleep.
"I don't play by rules either, Tessa," he whispered against her mouth. "I write them. Marcus is staying here with ten men. Do not leave the main house until I return."
"Promise me you'll come back," she demanded, her hazel eyes searching his face with intense urgency.
Declan took her hand, pressing a kiss to the center of her palm before closing her fingers into a fist around it. "I promised you three years ago I would protect you. I don't break my promises to my queen."
He stood up, gave her one final, long look, and turned on his heel, exiting the room. The heavy oak door clicked shut.
Tessa sank back into the pillows, her chest aching. She listened to the distant rumble of SUV engines starting up in the garage, followed by the heavy metal crunch of the gates opening and closing.
Then, silence returned.
For three hours, Tessa paced the living room, wearing one of Declan's thick cashmere sweaters over her leggings. She tried to read, she tried to drink tea, but her mind kept flashing back to the blood on the marble lobby floor, to Liam's violent face, to Declan's pale eyes.
At 10:30 a.m., the silence was shattered.
BOOM!
A massive explosion rocked the foundation of the house, shattering two of the high reinforced glass windows near the terrace. Alarm sirens instantly began to wail throughout the estate, red emergency lights flashing along the wooden beams.
Tessa stumbled, clutching the back of the sofa for balance.
The double doors of the living room burst open. Marcus ran in, his submachine gun raised, blood trickling down his forehead from a shrapnel cut.
"Miss Tessa! Get down!" Marcus roared, rushing over and pulling her behind the heavy stone fireplace mantle.
"What's happening?!" she cried out over the deafening blare of the sirens.
"It was a trap!" Marcus gritted out, reloading his weapon. "O'Connor didn't stay in Charlestown! He leaked that information to pull Declan and Sullivan away from Boston! He tracked the SUV's GPS signal last night!"
Tessa's blood ran cold. "He's here?"
RAT-AT-TAT-TAT!
Automatic gunfire erupted from the front courtyard. Shouts, shattering glass, and heavy thuds echoed through the hallway outside.
"Marcus! He brought thirty guys!" another guard yelled from the hallway before a heavy blast silenced him.
Marcus grabbed Tessa by her shoulders, his grip tight and urgent. "Listen to me, Miss Tessa! There is a panic room behind the wine cellar in the basement! The keycard is in Declan's desk! You run down there, lock the door, and do not open it for anyone except the boss!"
"What about you?!" she yelled.
"I'm holding the stairs!" Marcus barked. "Go! NOW!"
Marcus stood up, firing a burst of lead into the corridor as two armed men in tactical gear tried to break through the doors.
Tessa didn't hesitate. Her survival instincts, honed by three years in the shark tank, kicked in. She sprinted toward Declan's private study, staying low to avoid the flying glass and stray bullets.
She burst into his study, rushed behind the mahogany desk, and searched the top drawer. There it was—a heavy titanium keycard stamped with a stylized H.
She grabbed it, turning to run toward the basement door—
"Well, well, well," a rough, grating voice purred from the doorway.
Tessa froze.
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Standing in the doorway, a smoking shotgun held loosely in his hands, was Liam O'Connor. His face was covered in soot, his eyes wild with a manic, triumphant madness. Behind him lay the motionless bodies of two of Marcus's guards.
"Look what I found," Liam sneered, stepping into the room and racking the shotgun with a loud CLICK. "The little secretary hiding in her master's bedroom."
