Page 41 of Dirty Delivery

Declan claps him on the shoulder, then waves to the team to start clearing out. Rylan turns back to me and raises his hand to cup my cheek. "Everything is going to be ok, Savannah."

I blink up at him, too exhausted to argue. "Okay."

The jet is sleek and luxurious, but I barely give it a second glance as Rylan helps me settle into one of the plush leather seats. The hum of the engines is oddly soothing, a constant background noise that dulls the sharp edges of my thoughts.

"Get some rest," Rylan murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "We’ll be there before you know it."

I nod, my eyes already drifting shut. The stress, the fear, the adrenaline—it all crashes down on me at once, dragging me into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Rylan

I watch Savannah as she sleeps, her breathing steady but her body still visibly tense even in unconsciousness. She’s been through hell tonight, and I hate myself for not keeping her out of it.

Declan’s words echo in my head.Get out of town. Let things cool down.It’s a logical plan, but logic does little to calm the storm raging inside me. The Castillos won’t stop—not until they get what they want. And what they want is her.

Leaning back in my seat, I glance out the window at the endless stretch of night sky. The island will give us a reprieve, a chance to regroup. But it won’t stop what’s coming. Nothing will, not until I’ve put an end to this war.

Savannah stirs slightly, her head tilting toward me as if she senses my presence even in sleep. My chest tightens. She doesn’t know it yet, but she owns every piece of me—my heart, my soul, everything I thought I’d never give to anyone. I’ll fight for her, no matter the cost.

For now, though, I let her rest. Tomorrow will bring more battles, but tonight, she’s safe. And that’s all that matters.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Savannah

When we pull up to a house nestled into the hillside overlooking the coast, I feel my jaw drop. "House" doesn’t do it justice. The sprawling, modern mansion sits atop a cliff, its clean lines and massive glass windows overlooking the vast ocean below. The sound of waves crashing against the rocks fills the air, and the salty breeze is intoxicating.

"This is . . . stunning." I breathe, stepping out of the car.

Rylan smirks, glancing at me as I stand awkwardly by the car, acutely aware of the fact that we have nothing with us except the clothes on our backs. "Glad you like it, mo stóirín. It’ll be home for a while."

He leads me inside, and the interior is just as breathtaking. Open-concept rooms with high ceilings, sleek furniture, and walls of glass make the space feel infinite. The ocean view stretches as far as the eye can see, and for a moment, I forget why we’re even here.

But reality comes crashing back when Rylan glances around the pristine interior and turns to me, his eyes glinting with mischief. "There’s only one problem, though."

I raise an eyebrow. "What problem?"

He grins, that infuriating, panty-melting grin. "You don’t have any clothes."

I fold my arms across my chest, glaring at him. "And whose fault is that?"

He shrugs, unbothered. "I don’t see the issue. You’d look great naked the whole time we’re here."

I chuck a throw pillow at him, which he catches effortlessly. "Rylan!"

He laughs, tossing the pillow back onto the couch. "Alright, alright. We’ll go into town and fix that."

The small coastal town is picturesque, with cobblestone streets, colorful storefronts, and an easygoing charm that feels worlds away from the chaos we left behind. The salty air and the sound of seagulls create an almost magical atmosphere. Rylan leads me into a boutique, where racks of flowing dresses and stylish outfits make my head spin.

"Pick whatever you want," he says, leaning casually against the counter. "Sky’s the limit."

I gape at him. "I’m not letting you pay for all this."

He raises an eyebrow. His expression dares me to argue further. "You don’t have a choice, mo stóirín. You’re with me now."

The way he says it sends a shiver down my spine, equal parts frustrating and thrilling. With a resigned sigh, I start pulling clothes off the racks. Dresses, jeans, tops, and even a few swimsuits. Rylan’s eyes never leave me, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips when I model a few outfits for him.

"You’re enjoying this way too much," I grumble as I twirl in front of the mirror, showing off a sundress.

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