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Ruairi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.“Aoife, listen.I’ve already been thinking about your future.There’s someone I want you to meet.Cian O’Leary.He was one of Da’s most trusted associates.Smart, dependable, and?—”

I’m out of my chair before he can finish.“You’re trying to marry me off?”

He raises his hands defensively.“I’m trying to look out for you.”

“You’re unbelievable,” I repeat, my voice shaking with anger.I reach into my pocket again, this time slamming the worn paper onto his desk.“Read it.”

Ruairi’s brows knit together as he picks it up, unfolding it carefully.A small smile tugs at his lips as he reads, the memory clearly hitting him.“We were barely out of nappies,” he says softly, shaking his head.

“We promised,” I say firmly.“You agreed that we’d run this Syndicatetogether.You remember, don’t you?Slicing our fingers, signing it in blood?It meant something to me, Ri.”

His smile fades as he slides the paper back toward me.“We were kids, Evie.It was silly.”

“It wasn’t silly to me,” I snap, my voice breaking.“It was a promise.One I’ve held onto all these years.And now it’s time for you to honor it.”

He leans back, exhaling heavily.“It changes nothing.I won’t let you do this.Working in the Syndicate is no place for you.”

“I’ve been kept in the dark for years,” I argue.“I refuse to stand on the sidelines anymore.”

His jaw tightens.“This conversation is over.”

Fury burns through me as I glare at him.“This isn’t over,” I hiss, spinning on my heel and storming out of the office.

I nearly collide with Bridget in the hallway.Her eyes widen as she steadies me.“What’s wrong?”

“Your husband is being a stubborn ass,” I snap, pushing past her.

Bridget chuckles softly, following me.“And what else is new?What’s it about this time?”

I stop, turning to face her.“I want to work in the Syndicate.But he won’t even listen.”

Bridget’s expression softens.“He just wants what’s best for you.”

“Best for me?”I scoff.“He wants me to meet some associate and settle down like a good little wife.”

Bridget smiles faintly.“Cian O’Leary, right?He’s a good man.And Saoirse would love a cousin to grow up with.”

I roll my eyes, throwing my hands up.“You’re as bad as he is.”

She places a gentle hand on my arm.“I’m not saying you should do what he wants.But try to understand where he’s coming from.He only wants to protect you.”

I shake my head, stepping back.“I don’t need his protection.Or yours.”

And with that, I walk away, my resolve burning stronger than ever.

Ruairi

Aoife’s wordsecho in my ears as I stare at the crumpled note she slammed down in front of me.The audacity of her dragging out some childhood promise we made when we were seven, as if that holds any weight now.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and lean back in my chair, exhaling sharply.I can’t wrap my head around why she’s so insistent on this.She has no idea what she’s asking for.

The door creaks open, and Bridget steps inside, her expression soft but curious.“I bumped into Aoife in the hallway.”

I snort as I sit up, patting my knee to invite my wife closer.“Come here, then.Might as well sit while you tell me what anamadánI am.”

Bridget chuckles softly as she crosses the room, her smile teasing.“You said it, not me.”

“Don’t hold back on my account,” I mutter as she settles into my lap.