Chapter 33 – Breaking and Entering
Sam's POV
I don’t know what possessed me. Maybe it was the way Declan had smirked at me in the showers earlier, like he knew something I didn’t. Maybe it was the note still burning in the back of my mind, hinting at my sister. Or maybe I was just tired of being one step behind.
Whatever it was, it led to me standing in the hallway outside Declan Ward’s room at midnight, heart hammering so loud I was convinced the whole dorm could hear it.
This was insane. Stupid. Reckless.
And completely necessary.
I pressed my ear against the door. Silence. No voices, no footsteps. Either he was passed out or he wasn’t here at all. Perfect.
I glanced up and down the hallway. Empty. Everyone else was either asleep or out sneaking around where they weren’t supposed to be.
I gripped the doorknob, praying it would turn.
Click.
It opened.
My chest tightened as I slipped inside, easing the door shut behind me. Darkness swallowed me whole, but I didn’t dare flip the light on. Instead, I let the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the window guide me.
Declan’s room was exactly what I expected—expensive chaos. Clothes tossed carelessly across chairs, bottles of liquor lined up on the desk, a watch worth more than my entire wardrobe glinting under the moonlight. The smell of expensive cologne lingered in the air, sharp and suffocating.
“Okay, Sam,” I whispered to myself. “In and out. Fast.”
I started with the desk, fingers skimming over papers and notebooks. Nothing. Just half-scribbled assignments and doodles of God-knows-what.
I opened a drawer. Receipts, keys, another bottle of cologne. Useless.
The next drawer was locked.
Of course it was.
I bit my lip, glancing around the room. If Declan was hiding anything about my sister, it would be in there. But I didn’t have a lockpick. I didn’t even know how to use one if I did.
“Think, think, think…” I muttered, tugging at the handle.
Footsteps echoed faintly in the hall. My stomach flipped. I ducked low, heart in my throat, but the steps faded past the door.
I let out a shaky breath and returned to the desk. There had to be a key. Declan wasn’t the type to hide things carefully. He was arrogant enough to think no one would dare touch his stuff.
I checked under papers, in pockets of jackets draped over the chair, even under the desk itself. Nothing.
Then I spotted a small, leather-bound box on the dresser.
Bingo.
I opened it carefully. Inside was a jumble of cufflinks, rings, and—there. A tiny silver key.
“Got you,” I whispered.
I slid it into the drawer lock and turned. Click.
The drawer opened with a soft scrape, revealing a neat stack of envelopes. My fingers trembled as I picked one up. The handwriting on the front made my stomach twist.
It was the same handwriting from the note I’d found in my desk.
I ripped it open, eyes scanning the words.
Declan—
You need to make sure no one talks. The incident last spring can’t come back on us. You know what’s at stake.
My blood turned to ice. The incident. My sister.
“Looking for something?”
I froze.
The voice came from the doorway. Smooth. Mocking. Familiar.
Declan Ward.
I whipped around, the letter still in my hand. He stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“Well, well, Hale,” he drawled. “Didn’t take you for a midnight thief.”
My throat went dry. “I—I was just—”
“Just what?” He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. The sound felt like a trap snapping shut. “Looking through my things? Reading my mail?”
I shoved the letter back into the drawer, slamming it shut, trying to mask my panic. “I thought this was my room. Must’ve—must’ve gotten mixed up.”
Declan laughed, low and dangerous. “Nice try. But you’re not that stupid.”
He moved closer, circling me slowly like a predator with its prey. His eyes glinted in the moonlight, sharp and unreadable.
“Tell me, Hale,” he said, voice dropping, “what exactly did you think you’d find in here?”
I forced myself to hold his gaze. “Nothing. I told you, it was a mistake.”
“Mm.” His smirk widened. “Funny mistake, considering you’re holding a letter addressed to me.”
My fingers clenched at my sides. “I didn’t read it.”
“Liar.” He leaned closer, so close I could smell the faint bite of whiskey on his breath. “You’re too curious for your own good.”
I swallowed hard, pulse racing. If he suspected the truth—if he knew who I really was—this was over.
“I don’t care about your secrets,” I said quickly, trying to keep my voice steady. “I just… got lost.”
Declan studied me for a long, suffocating moment. Then, to my surprise, he laughed again.
“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” he said. “Most guys in this dorm wouldn’t dare step foot in my room without permission. But you…” He shook his head, amused. “You’ve got balls, Hale.”
I forced a laugh, my voice weak. “Guess so.”
He leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms. “Still. I don’t like people snooping. Makes me wonder what you’re really after.”
My heart stuttered. Did he know?
Declan tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “So tell me, Hale. Why are you really here?”
The air between us stretched taut, thick with danger. I knew one wrong word could ruin everything.
I opened my mouth, desperate to come up with some excuse—any excuse—when the sound of footsteps echoed again outside the door.
Declan’s eyes flicked toward it, then back to me. His smirk sharpened.
“Looks like we’ve got company,” he murmured.
The doorknob turned.