Chapter 4 - The Patriarch's Shadow
"Declan," the old man’s voice rasped through the speaker. It was a voice that had ordered the deaths of dozens, yet remained as calm and steady as a heartbeat. "I hear you missed your own engagement dinner."
"Something came up, Father," Declan said, walking out of the library and closing the door behind him so Norah wouldn't hear.
"Something?" Viktor chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. "Khloe’s father is furious. He’s threatening to block the shipment at the eastern port. But more interestingly, my informants tell me you were seen on Michigan Avenue with a woman. A woman who looks very much like the schoolteacher who disappeared three years ago."
Declan’s grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles popped. "She is not your concern, Father."
"If she has children with your eyes, Declan, she is very much my concern," Viktor said, his tone instantly losing its casual edge and turning into pure ice. "A Voss heir is not a secret to be kept in the dark. Bring them to the family estate tomorrow morning. I want to see them."
"No," Declan said flatly.
A long, heavy silence stretched over the line.
"You forget yourself, Declan," Viktor said softly. "I am still the head of this family. If you do not bring them to me, I will have my men bring them. And I do not think the mother will survive the transition."
"If any of your men come near my house, Father," Declan said, his voice dropping to a whisper that was deadlier than his father’s, "they will not return. And I will personally come to the family estate to discuss your retirement."
Declan hung up the phone. His chest rose and fell with heavy, ragged breaths.
He knew his father wasn't bluffing. Viktor Voss was a relic of the old world—a man who would gladly sacrifice his own grandchildren if it meant securing a political alliance. The marriage to Khloe Hartwell was supposed to unite the Voss shipping empire with the Hartwell distribution network, solidifying their dominance over the entire Midwest.
Now, with Norah and the twins back, that alliance was in ruins. And in his world, ruin was always met with violence.
Declan walked back into the library. Norah was kneeling beside the children, putting on their dry shoes.
"We are leaving," Norah said, not looking up. "The rain has stopped. We will find a motel."
"You aren't going anywhere, Norah," Declan said, his voice tense.
She stood up, her face flushing with anger. "I knew it! You’re keeping us prisoner!"
"My father knows about them," Declan said.
The words hung in the air, cold and terrifying. Norah froze, her hand stopping over Maya’s shoe. She knew who Viktor Voss was. She had heard the whispered stories of the old man’s cruelty—the uncle who had disappeared, the cousin who had been exiled.
"What?" she whispered.
"He knows," Declan repeated, walking over to her. "And he wants them. In his eyes, Leo and Maya are the future of the Voss syndicate. He will use them to secure his legacy, and he will eliminate anyone who stands in his way—including you."
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Norah’s face drained of color. She grabbed Declan’s arm, her fingers digging into his muscle. "No... no, Declan, please. You can't let him touch them. Please. I'll go back to Oregon. I'll change our names again. I'll disappear so deep he will never find us."
"He found you in Chicago in less than an hour, Norah," Declan said, his hand coming up to cover hers. "The only way to keep them safe now is to destroy the threat. And to do that, I need you to trust me."
