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I don’t have the words.I don’t know why I didn’t tell her.Maybe because I knew she wouldn’t like it.Maybe because, deep down, I wanted to keep Ronan in my pocket, separate from her.

She studies me, eyes sharp, demanding an answer I don’t have.

Ronan steps forward."I told him not to tell you."

Aoife’s gaze snaps to him."Why?"

He waves a hand."Does it matter?"

She doesn’t answer.

Ronan doesn’t waste a second."Where are the bodies?"

Her expression smooths.Her unease is gone.

"In the pit."She turns, leading us inside.

The room is dimly lit, the light barely cutting through the thick, oppressive air.The stone walls loom around us, worn by time, stained by history.

Aoife stops at the edge of the pit and gestures down."There."

I step forward, peering over the ledge.Two bodies lie unmoving below, barely visible in the dark.I exhale.It’s over.The power is now mine.

But Ronan doesn’t look convinced.He steps closer, narrowing his eyes."Hard to see from up here."

It all happens so fast.His hand moves.I don’t see it coming.Not until it’s too late.In a flash, he yanks Aoife against him, his gun pressing into her ribs.

The air leaves my lungs.

"You’re a fool, Cian," Ronan murmurs, voice smooth, almost amused."Too trusting.Too soft.You don’t deserve to run a fucking Syndicate."

A slow, burning rage ignites in my chest.My hand moves for my gun?—

The shot rings out before I can reach it.

Fire erupts in my chest, stealing my breath and knocking me backward.

Pain.Blinding.Sharp.

My legs buckle.My vision swims.I hit the ground hard, my body refusing to respond.

A sound cuts through the ringing in my ears—a scream.

Aoife.

I don’t know if it’s rage, horror, or something else entirely, but it splinters through the haze, sharp and jagged.Aoife’s fighting.I can hear the struggle, the scrape of boots on stone, the sharp intake of breath—hers or Ronan’s, I don’t know.

I try to move.Try to do something.But there’s only cold.The world fades at the edges.

And then—nothing.

Eamon

The cold stonepresses against my back, bleeding the warmth from my body, the weight of the pit folding in around me like a coffin waiting to be sealed.

I stay still.I barely breathe.The air hangs thick and damp, sinking into my chest with every shallow inhale.

I don’t know how Ruairi survived down here for weeks.