At 2:13 A.m., She Drank Alone — Unaware The Mafia Boss Had Been Watching Her All Night
## Chapter 7
“Look at me,” Declan ordered, his voice fierce, cutting through her despair. He framed her tear-stained face with both of his large hands, forcing her to meet his stormy gaze. “You are not going to die. I told you, you are a loophole.”
For a moment neither of them spoke, the rain still hammering against the windows fourteen stories above the street, and Meline realized she had stopped shaking somewhere in the last few seconds, not because the danger had lessened but because his hands on her face were the stillest thing in the room.
“The insurance policy only pays out to the primary shareholder of Hayes Holdings,” Declan continued. “But Bradley gave the shares to the Vulovs.” “Bradley signed a piece of paper,” Declan countered, a dark, predatory smile curving his lips. “But legally, as the registered CEO and namesake of the corporation, you have the power to dilute the shares.”
“You can issue a massive block of new stock, making the Vulov’s shares completely worthless. But to do that legally, to make it completely bulletproof against any international court or underworld tribunal—” he paused, his thumb gently wiping a tear from her cheek, “you need to transfer the controlling interest of the company to a partner. A spouse.”
Meline froze, her breath catching in her throat as the sheer magnitude of his words settled over her. “A — a spouse — if you marry me.”
“Meline,” Declan said softly. The lethal kingpin melting away to reveal a man fiercely, inexplicably possessive of the woman trembling in his arms. “The assets of Hayes Holdings merge with the Fitzpatrick syndicate. The Volkovs lose their claim. The insurance policy becomes null and void because I will be the beneficiary. And Ivan Vulov knows that if he touches a hair on my wife’s head, I will burn Moscow to the ground.”
It was, she would think later, the strangest proposal any woman had ever received — laid out with the same clean, methodical logic she used to explain a balance sheet discrepancy to a nervous client, every clause anticipated, every loophole of his own already closed before she’d had time to think of it herself.
Meline stared at him, her mind spinning. “You want to marry me? To save my life?” “I want to marry you,” Declan corrected, his gaze dropping to her lips. “Because from the moment I saw you sitting at that bar, breaking down but refusing to completely shatter, I knew you belonged to me.”
“Bradley Carmichael was a fool who threw away a diamond to play with cheap glass,” Declan said. “I am a man who protects his treasures.” He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. “Marry me, Meline. Let me be the monster that guards your door. Let me give you the world, and in return you give me your loyalty.”
It was madness. Absolute, terrifying madness. But as Meline looked into the eyes of the most dangerous man in Chicago, she didn’t feel fear anymore. She felt an overwhelming, undeniable sense of safety — the same feeling, she would think much later, of finally setting down a suitcase she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying for years. She had spent her whole life playing by the rules, auditing ledgers, doing the right thing, and it had almost gotten her killed. Maybe it was time to let the devil rewrite the rules.