Taming the Mad Dog

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Maeve, are you out of your damn mind? Declan's jaw ticked, the muscle jumping beneath his skin. You're supposed to marry Nathaniel.

He pinned me hard against the cold wall. His towering, aggressive frame caged me in, leaving no room to escape as his scorching, heavy breaths struck my collarbone.

My family had just filed for bankruptcy, and my parents were forcing me into an arranged marriage to save our status. They had their sights set on the polished, perfectly put-together older brother. But my eyes were locked on the volatile, unpredictable younger one.

Flashes of my past life ripped through my mind. I stared up at the man who, in another lifetime, had completely destroyed himself to avenge my death. Refusing to back down, I gripped his shirt collar and yanked him roughly toward me. My red lips barely brushed against the corner of his mouth, the negative space between us vibrating with heat as I held his dark gaze with absolute provocation.

"Declan." I didn't break eye contact. "You're way crazier than I am."

Chapter 1

"I'm not into Nathaniel. I want Declan."

The words dropped like a bomb. The color immediately drained from everyone's faces around the dining table.

"Maeve!" My mother grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin. "What nonsense are you talking about?"

My father's brows snapped together. He lowered his voice, shooting me a warning glare. "Stop this foolishness right now."

In their eyes, Nathaniel was the golden boyflawless, polished, and bound for greatness. Declan was the exact opposite. Volatile, violent, and a total trainwreck.

Sitting diagonally across from me, Declan looked like he had just been hit by a truck. The heavy silver fork slipped from his grip, clattering loudly against his porcelain plate.

Only Nathaniel managed to keep his mask intact, forcing a stiff, practiced smile. "Well, that's fine. It's a good thing."

Next to him, Winston and his wife looked like they were chewing on glass, but they kept their mouths firmly shut. Even though my family was bankrupt, my father still had deep political connections that couldn't be ignored. The Qiao family desperately needed his leverage for a massive development project that was currently stalled. They couldn't afford to burn this bridge.

"Let's just eat. The food is getting cold," I said smoothly. A sudden memory of Declan's chronic stomach issues from when we were younger pushed me to break the suffocating silence.

No one said a word as they slowly turned their attention back to their meals. Declan's face was ice-cold. He gripped his silver steak knife, violently cutting into the bloody meat. The blade scraped harshly against the plate, a grating sound that betrayed the dangerous, barely suppressed rage burning in his eyes.

I almost laughed. The corner of my mouth tipped up. Declan. It's been a long time.

The rest of the dinner was a predictable disaster. By the end, Declan and I were the only ones still eating. I threw a glance at his lowered head, pushed my chair back, and excused myself to use the restroom. I navigated the familiar hallways, heading straight for the corner washroom.

I had just washed my hands and reached for the door handle when a tall, imposing figure suddenly shoved his way inside, blocking my exit.

"What the hell did you mean back there?" Declan demanded. He leaned heavily against the tiled wall, his jaw tight and his expression dark.

I tilted my head, studying him, and let out a soft laugh. "Exactly what I said. I'm not into Nathaniel. I want you. If I have to marry someone in this family, it's going to be you."

Declan froze. He looked at me like I was a complete psycho. "You don't want Nathaniel you want me?"

"Yeah."

"Are you out of your damn mind?"

I didn't break eye contact. In his mind, he was nothing but a shadow standing next to his golden-boy brother. To him, the idea of anyone picking him over Nathaniel was totally unhinged.

Before I could even open my mouth to explain, his expression turned downright lethal. He was convinced I was just playing some sick game with him.

He slammed his fist into the wall right next to my ear. The impact echoed through the small space. His dark eyes locked onto mine, feral and warning.

"Maeve, I don't give a shit what kind of game you're playing. Stay the hell away from me. Or I swear to God, I'll make you regret it. Are we clear?"

I stared at the dangerous, furious man towering over me, and suddenly, the memories of my past life violently bled into reality. Three days after I died, my broken body had been left rotting in a freezing morgue. Nobody came. Except him.

He found me. I remembered the hot tears dropping onto my icy skin as he pulled my ruined body into his arms, his eyes completely bloodshot.

Maeve, don't be afraid, he had whispered. I'm taking you home. I won't let anyone ever hurt you again.

My vision instantly blurred. A violent shudder ripped through my spine, and my breath hitched.

Catching the sudden shift in my composure, panic flashed through Declan's dark eyes. His tough facade cracked, and he instinctively started to pull back to put distance between us. "You"

Before he could retreat, I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt collar and yanked him hard toward me. I refused to back down. My red lips barely brushed against the corner of his mouth, the negative space between us vibrating with heat as I held his gaze with absolute provocation.

"Declan," I breathed, feeling his erratic pulse against my knuckles. "Why are you allowed to want me, but I'm not allowed to want you? Watch me."

Declan completely short-circuited. His eyes went wide, and his hands flew up in the air in a defensive surrender, terrified to actually touch me. "When the hell did I ever say I wanted you?"

"Are you sure about that?" I kept my eyes locked on his. Slowly, a smirk curved my lips. My fingertips trailed down from his collar, tracing a deliberate, burning path over the hard muscles of his chest, slipping lower toward his stomach

Chapter 2

I deliberately dropped my gaze lower. "Then what's this?"

Declan's Adam's apple bobbed sharply, his breathing instantly growing ragged and heavy. He shoved me away, desperately trying to mask the near-feral, uncontrollable desire flashing in his dark eyes.

"Are you out of your damn mind?!" He took a swift step back, putting distance between us as if he'd been burned. He pointed a rigid finger at me, silently warning me to stay back.

I just leaned comfortably against the bathroom tiles, completely unfazed. "What? I like you. Your parents told me to pick. I picked you."

"You're completely irrational." Declan's face was a stormy mess of tension, his brows knitted tight as he looked at me like I belonged in a psych ward.

My smile only widened. "Yeah. I've got this terminal condition where if I don't have you, I'll die."

Declan whipped his head to the side, swearing violently under his breath, the muscle in his jaw ticking furiously as the tension in the room spiked.

"Declan, everything alright in there?" Nathaniel's smooth voice suddenly drifted down the hallway from the living room.

Declan's expression hardened instantly. He shot me a lethal, warning glare. "I am not interested in you. When you walk out that door, you keep your mouth shut about picking me."

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel. But he didn't head back to the living room; he took the stairs two at a time, disappearing to the upper floor.

I watched his retreating back. A tight, suffocating knot formed in my throat, pressing so hard against my windpipe it physically ached. This was the man who, in a past life, was torn apart piece by piece until nothing was leftall for me.

The dinner ended in predictable disaster. The second we walked through our front door, my parents cornered me. They acted like I had completely lost my grip on reality. Nathaniel was the ultimate catch, the perfect golden ticket, and I had thrown it away for Declan.

"You're an ungrateful fool!" my father shouted, slamming his keys onto the console table.

My mother flanked him, gripping my arm. She insisted I call Nathaniel tomorrow, apologize in private, and fix this mess before the connection was ruined.

I looked at the two people who shared my blood. My fingernails dug so deeply into my palms that the skin went numb.

"Mom. Dad," I kept my voice dead even. "What if I told you Nathaniel is a sadistic piece of garbage wearing a nice suit? Would you still force me to marry him?"

My mother blinked, her brow furrowing in genuine confusion. "That's impossible. The eldest Qiao boy has been the picture of perfection since he was a kid. How could he be anything but?"

Then, the rationalizations started. She told me everyone has flaws. She told me I just needed to endure it.

"Be smart, Maeve. That Declan is violent and useless. He's probably a bastard child anyway. What kind of future is that?

You stick with Nathaniel, and eventually, the entire Qiao empire belongs to you."

Watching her mouth move, delivering this earnest, practical advice, the room suddenly tilted.

The phantom smell of copper and stale alcohol flooded my sinuses. In my past life, when Nathaniel beat me until I was coughing up blood on the hardwood floor, they had sat in this exact room and told me to endure it. They had no idea about the actual hell I lived in.

Nathaniel was a textbook psychopath hiding behind a multi-million-dollar smile. Raised under the crushing pressure of his parents' expectations, he had forced himself into the mold of the perfect heir. But all that suppressed resentment had to go somewhere. Every time he came home smelling of expensive scotch, that pressure valve would snap.

He would use his fists, his belts, anything he could reach, ripping into my flesh to release his own demons.

His parents were just monsters in designer clothes, turning a blind eye to my bruises and actively threatening me into silence. And when I finally dragged my broken body back to my own parents, begging for a way out, they gave me cold, calculated lectures about preserving the family's stock price.

Eventually, Nathaniel got bored of just hitting me. He started parading me at business dinners, treating me like a high-end bargaining chip for his associates. My mind simply snapped. The edges of my sanity frayed until I couldn't form a coherent sentence.

So, he orchestrated an "accident." He cashed out a massive life insurance policy, wiping away fake tears at my funeral to cement his reputation as a grieving, devoted husband. My parents didn't even ask for an autopsy.

Only Declan.

He was the one who went completely feral, systematically hunting down every single person who had a hand in my destruction, cornering them until they had absolutely nothing left. And then, he took my ashes and stepped into the freezing ocean.

I slowly opened my eyes, the last trace of warmth draining from my veins. I turned away from my parents, walking away as the lock on my bedroom door clicked shut behind me.

Chapter 3

This lifetime, I only wanted Declan.

I shadowed him relentlessly, using visits to Nathaniel as my convenient cover. He was visibly irritated, his jaw set in a hard line as he practically threw me out multiple times. Eventually, he just started avoiding me altogether.

But after living two lifetimes, I knew exactly how he operated. It didn't take long to track him down at the local racing circuit. He was geared up in a pitch-black racing suit that hugged every inch of his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and insanely long legs. The fit was unforgiving, putting his lethal physique on full display.

It was way more scandalous than gray sweatpants. I narrowed my eyes, muttering a curse under my breath about him being an absolute hazard.

I marched over just as a group of guys and girls swarmed him. One girl in particular was already reaching out, ready to throw her arms right around his neck.

I shoved my way straight through the crowd, wrapping my arm possessively around Declan's lean waist. I met the girl's gaze head-on, my eyes daring her to cross the line. "Back off. He's my man."

The words dropped like an anvil. Everyone in the circle froze.

Declan's muscles instantly locked up. He firmly peeled my arm off him, a muscle feathering furiously along his jawline. "What the hell are you talking about?" he muttered, his voice unnaturally rough as he hastily introduced me to the group. "She's just a friend. Not my fianc."

The others exchanged loaded glances but laughed it off, shifting the topic. But that same girl immediately stepped back into his personal space, batting her eyelashes and asking Declan to take her for a spin on the track.

Declan shot a guarded look in my direction.

I smiled, utterly unfazed. "Sure."

I casually draped my hand over the shoulder of the guy standing next to her. "How about you, cutie? Take me for a ride? I've never done this before. Looks fun."

The guy's eyes lit up, a massive grin spreading across his face as he eagerly agreed. I turned on my heel, ready to follow him to the paddock.

A second later, a heavy grip clamped down on my bicep, yanking me backward with raw force. Declan hauled me flush against his side, his expression completely thunderous. "I'm taking her."

A slow, satisfied smirk curved my lips.

For the next few days, no matter where Declan tried to hide, I was already there. If he was sleeping, I marched right upstairs and ripped the blankets off his bed. If he went out, I shadowed him like a stage-five clinger. I lived for the way his jaw would clench in absolute frustration, knowing he couldn't bring himself to actually snap at me.

By day four, the look in his eyes had shifted into something dark and dangerously coiled. He finally backed me into a corner, his voice a low growl, warning me that if I kept pushing, he wasn't going to hold back anymore.

Intrigued to see exactly how he wouldn't hold back, I tracked him down to a high-end club that same night. He didn't even look surprised when I slid into the VIP booth. He didn't try to kick me out. He just let me sit there, sinking into the leather as the drinks started flowing and the games began.

The alcohol was straight liquor, and the game was a painfully clich round of Truth or Dare. What I didn't anticipate was the girl who had the nerve to squeeze into the space right next to him. She was practically draped over his arm, her intentions completely transparent.

When she lost a round, the entire booth erupted, chanting for her to kiss him. She feigned shyness, flushing and glancing at Declan, whispering that it probably wasn't a good idea.

Declan's face was an unreadable mask. But he didn't immediately push her away. The cheering instantly dialed up to a deafening roar.

Watching her lean closer to him, his strategy hit me like a bucket of ice water. He was using her to force me out.

A sharp, scalding heat flared in my chest. I knew exactly why he kept shoving me away. He was terrified of his own volatility. He thought he was a broken, violent mess who would only end up destroying me.

In his twisted logic, Nathaniel was the safe, polished choicethe one who could give me the picture-perfect life. But did he really think I couldn't see the way his knuckles turned white every time my name was mentioned in the same breath as his brother's?

My nails bit sharply into my palms. I snapped to my feet.

Before anyone could blink, I stepped right into his space, shoved the girl aside, and swung my leg over Declan's lap, straddling him dead center in front of the entire VIP booth.

Chapter 4

I threw a cold glance at the girl. "Sorry, sweetheart. This one belongs to me."

The booth plunged into deafening silence.

Declan looked like he had been struck by lightning. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. I slowly lowered my head, zeroing in on the sharp, rapid bob of his Adam's apple.

"Whatwhat the hell are you doing?" His voice was a raw rasp.

"You."

Before he could process the word, I sank my teeth into his bottom lip.

The man beneath me went rigidly still, his breath catching. But the searing heat radiating from his chest violently reminded me he was very much alive.

When I finally pulled back, Declan was still staring at me with wide, blown-out pupils, looking like his entire world had just caved in. I wanted to laugh, but a sudden, sharp ache pierced my chest.

He had kissed me before. In my past life. After I was dead. After years of suffocating his own desperation.

But I had been too cold to feel his fire.

Snapping back to the present, Declan's face was flushed a chaotic mix of crimson and pale white. He furiously demanded I get off him, shoved me aside, and bolted for the exit.

"Where are you going?"

"The bathroom!" he barked. He slammed the heavy oak door open, whirling around to shoot me a final, lethal glare. "Do not follow me!"

"Fine," I hummed, sinking back into the leather cushions. I couldn't wipe the smirk off my face. How did I not see this before?

With Declan gone, the murmurs instantly started up, eyes darting my way. I sat completely unfazed.

The girl I had ousted clearly wasn't ready to wave the white flag. She bit her lip, leaning in. "What exactly is your relationship with Declan?"

I didn't even look at her. "You literally just watched it."

"But he's never mentioned you before!"

"And?" I finally leveled a bored look at her. "So you convinced yourself that means he's into you? Don't play yourself."

Done with the conversation, I stood up and moved to an empty couch on the far side of the room.

But before I could even settle in, some idiot decided it was his lucky night. A guy with a sleazy stare raked his eyes over my body, offering to buy me a drink. Without waiting for an answer, he dropped a heavy hand onto my shoulder.

My brow twitched. Before I could even turn my head, a vicious rush of air sliced past my ear.

The guy was leveled by a brutal punch, crashing hard onto the floor.

Declan hauled him up by his collar. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" he snarled, his voice a lethal vibration.

Before the guy could even scream, the sickening crack of his nose shattering echoed over the heavy bass of the club.

The man struggled wildly, blinking through the blood. "Are you insane?! I was just buying her a drink! Get your fucking hands off me!"

Declan's eyes went completely dead. He drove his fist into the guy's jaw. "Say it again. I dare you."

I felt my stomach drop. The air around Declan was shifting, thickening with a dangerous, chaotic energy.

The idiot on the floor didn't know when to shut up. He kept thrashing, screaming that Declan was a psycho.

That was the trigger. Declan's last thread of sanity snapped.

He grabbed an empty liquor bottle from the table and brought it crashing down onto the man's head. Glass shattered everywhere, and Declan didn't stop. He started hammering his fists down, over and over, into the guy's face.

Blood sprayed across the expensive rug. People started screaming, shoving each other out of the way as total panic erupted.

Seeing the guy on the floor start to choke on his own blood, I lunged forward, throwing my arms around Declan's broad back from behind. "Stop! That's enough!"

He didn't even hear me. His elbow jerked back, catching me hard on the side of the face. I swallowed the sharp pain, clawed my way to his front, and forcefully wrenched his face toward mine.

"Look at me, Declan!"

His fist froze mid-air. His dark, hollow pupils violently contracted, trying to focus on my face. Seconds ticked by in suffocating tension before his ragged breathing slowly began to regulate.

I let out a shaky exhale and yanked his head down, pressing his face tight against my chest. "It's okay. It's over."

Under my firm grip, the adrenaline bleeding out of him, Declan finally stopped fighting.

Chapter 5

But right now, his stillness was borderline psychopathic.

The cops showed up shortly after. I rode with him to the precinct to give my statement. He was dead quiet the entire time, rattling off exactly what they needed to hear and paying the assault fines without blinking.

We walked out of the double glass doors into the freezing night.

He suddenly snapped his head toward me. "You're not terrified of me?"

I shook my head.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off.

"Maeve, there is something fundamentally wrong with my head. Do you get that?" He tapped two fingers hard against his temple. His pitch-black eyes drilled into mine, emphasizing every single word. "I can't control the violence.

You choose me, you really aren't afraid that one day I'll beat you to death?"

I stared at him. "You wouldn't."

"What makes you so damn sure?" His voice hardened, cruel and dismissive. "Without you, I can do whatever the hell I want. But with you?

I have to constantly watch my back, constantly keep myself in check. You're just a liability. Do you understand?"

A cold numbness spread through my chest. I looked at the man standing in front of me. "Is that really what you think?"

I took a step closer. "What if I told you your precious brother is a sadistic, two-faced animal?"

A chaotic storm flared in his dark eyes. His brows drew together in a deep, conflicted line. But he didn't say a single word, as if his brain was short-circuiting trying to process what I just dropped on him.

I held his gaze for a long moment, then slowly nodded.

"Fine. You want me to pick your brother so badly? Consider it done."

Three days after I cut ties with Declan, the Qiao family hosted an extravagant, early birthday banquet for Nathaniel.

The ballroom was packed with the city's elite, and my parents practically dragged me there to parade me around. But what I didn't see coming was the absolute trap they had orchestrated with Winston and his wife.

Right when my guard was down, Nathaniel took the microphone on the grand stage, announcing he had some incredible news. He flashed that sickeningly gentle smile and locked eyes with me.

"Maeve. Come on up."

My grip on my champagne flute tightened so hard the crystal threatened to snap. Before I could even brace myself, my parents shoved me directly toward the spotlight.

Deafening applause erupted from the floor, immediately followed by the loud, buzzing whispers of the socialites.

"That's Maeve, the Jiang family's daughter, right? Guess the arranged marriage is happening."

"Gotta admit, they look perfect together."

"Didn't the Jiangs just file for bankruptcy, though? Talk about marrying up to save their own skin"

The blinding lights and the chaotic noise instantly dissolved. The phantom smell of the dressing room from my past life choked the air from my lungs.

I was back at my wedding with Nathaniel.

The night before I walked down the aisle, I had caught him screwing someone else. When I confronted him and demanded to call off the engagement, he cornered me in the bridal suite and backhanded me so hard my vision went black. That was the exact moment his mask slipped.

But by then, I was completely trapped. The second I stepped onto that red carpet, I was digging my nails into my palms to stop the tears, praying to God that someoneanyonewould kick the doors open and save me.

No one came.

Declan had already walked out, completely destroyed. And I had been too numb to even notice.

Standing on this stage now, my throat closed up. Total asphyxiation.

Nathaniel was pulling this ambush because he calculated that I had absolutely zero leverage. If I blew this up right now, my family wouldn't just be the laughingstock of the city. My parents would be financially slaughtered, completely ruined by the vultures circling our bankrupt company.

"Maeve, you're spacing out," Nathaniel murmured, keeping his perfect, plastic smile pinned in place as he forced the microphone into my hand. "Tell everyone the date of our engagement."

My stomach violently heaved at the sight of his fake, manufactured face.

I completely ignored him. Instead, I turned my head and locked my eyes dead on the massive mahogany double doors at the back of the banquet hall.

Declan. I am giving you exactly three seconds. If you don't walk through those doors, I'll make sure you never forgive yourself.

"Three. Two"

"One."

BANG!

A massive crash exploded from the entrance.

Chapter 6