Chapter 6 - Blood on the DocksThe illusion of our fragile peace shattered three nights later.
It was 2:00 a.m. when I woke up to the sound of hushed, urgent voices echoing from Theodore’s private study down the hall.
I slipped out of bed, pulling a silk robe over my shoulders, and crept quietly down the dim hallway. The door to the study was cracked open an inch. A sliver of amber light cut across the hardwood floor.
“—the North Side crew bypassed our warehouse on Pier 42,” Michael, Theodore’s chief security enforcer, was saying, his voice tight with panic. “They hit the secondary shipment, Boss. Three of our men are hospitalized, and they left a message.”
“What kind of message?” Theodore asked. His voice was terrifyingly calm, but the tone carried the lethal edge of a drawn blade.
“They know about the bakery downtown, Theo. They know about Maeve. They’re using her as leverage to force us out of the Hudson shipping lanes. They’re saying if you don't hand over the North Side contracts by tomorrow noon, they’re going to burn Gallagher’s Sweet & Crumb to the ground while she’s inside.”
My breath hitched in my throat.
A cold wave of terror washed over me. The bakery—the place my father built, the place I had fought my entire life to keep alive—was a target. Because of me. Because they thought Theodore cared enough about his baker-wife to surrender his empire.
Clatter.
My elbow accidentally brushed against a heavy bronze vase resting on a hallway console table, knocking it slightly against the wall.
Inside the study, the voices cut off instantly.
Heavy footsteps approached the door. It swung open wide.
Theodore stood there in shirtsleeves, his tie undone, his eyes locking onto mine with immediate, piercing clarity. He knew I had heard everything.
“Maeve,” he said quietly.
“They're going to burn the bakery,” I whispered, tears of helpless fury welling in my eyes. “All of it—the new ovens, the legacy, everything my father left behind—because of me.”
“They aren't going to touch it,” Theodore said firmly, stepping out into the hallway and closing the study door behind him.
“How can you stop them? It’s an all-out war! They're using me to get to you!”
“Let them try,” Theodore replied, his jaw clenching so hard muscles ticked along his cheek. He reached out, grabbing my shoulders, his hands warm and steady. “I didn't marry you to make you a target, Maeve. I married you because you were the strongest person in that Plaza ballroom. And I am not about to let anyone touch a single brick of your father’s legacy.”
“Theodore, it’s too dangerous—”
“Listen to me,” he interrupted, his voice dropping into an absolute command. “Tomorrow morning, Michael will take you to our safe house in Connecticut. You will stay there until I settle this.”
“No,” I said, stepping back out of his grip.
Theodore blinked, stunned. “What did you say?”
“I said no,” I repeated, my voice steadying as the memory of my mother’s voice echoed in my head: Never let them see you shake. “I am not running away like a coward while my life’s work is threatened. If the North Side syndicate wants to play games, they're going to deal with the woman who survived growing up in a Brooklyn bakery with overdue rent.”
“Maeve, this isn't a game—”
“I know it’s not a game!” I yelled, finally letting loose every ounce of fear, anger, and passion I had bottled up since the day we met. “And I know you think you have to protect me like some fragile porcelain doll! But I am a Castellan now, aren't I? Or was that just another business contract for your board of directors?!”
Theodore stared at me, completely speechless. For the first time since I had met the most feared man in Manhattan, I saw genuine, unadulterated fear in his eyes—not fear of his enemies, but fear of losing me.
Slowly, a dark, dangerous smile spread across his face.
“God help me,” Theodore whispered, stepping forward and pulling me into his arms, crushing his lips against mine in a kiss so fierce, hungry, and desperate that it stole the very air from my lungs. “You really are out of your mind.”
May you like
“Takes one to know one,” I murmured against his mouth.
“Fine,” Theodore said, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes. “We go to Pier 42 together.”
