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I meet his gaze, my voice firm.“No.I traveled, but not for the reasons he hoped.Everywhere I went, I trained.Martial arts, hand-to-hand combat, shooting, whatever I could learn.I wanted to return home stronger.To prove to my father that I wasn’t a little girl that he needed to protect.I needed him to see I was capable.”

Eamon leans back slightly, swirling the wine in his glass, his eyes fixed on me.

“My father had me go by Eve my whole life,” I explain.“It was safer that way.It was meant to keep my real identity hidden.To keep me safe.”

The silence that follows is suffocating, the weight of the admission settling heavily between us.Eamon doesn’t speak, but his gaze never leaves mine.

“And the night you left?”he presses, his voice sharp.

“My brother called to tell me our parents had been killed…” My voice falters, the words choking in my throat.I swallow hard, the memory bitter.“I packed my things and left.I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You should’ve woken me,” he says, his tone quiet but brimming with restrained anger.“I would’ve gone with you.You shouldn’t have had to travel alone after learning that.”

“I couldn’t have shown up with you.My brother would’ve lost it.”I shake my head, my fingers tightening around the glass.“And by now, I’m sure Erin’s called and told him I left with you.He’s probably on his way already.”

“Let him come,” Eamon says, settling back with the kind of calm that feels more like a challenge than comfort.A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, but his gaze doesn’t waver.“You have nothing to worry about,” he adds, his voice low and steady.“You’re in my territory now, Aoife.”

His territory.The words are meant to soothe, but I know better.This isn’t just a place—it’s a choice.

And when Ruairi finds out where I am, who I’m with… there won’t be a way to walk this back.

Still, I don’t move.I don’t argue.

And maybe that says everything.

Eamon

Sitting on my sofa,swirling a glass of wine, completely unaware of how much her presence alone has turned my world upside down.Aoife.Her name rolls through my head, unraveling months of frustration.It makes sense now why I couldn’t find Eve.It was nothing more than a nickname, a deliberate mask to keep her hidden.

And hidden she was.Patrick Quigley’s daughter.Ruairi Quigley’s twin.

The revelation hits harder than it should, considering the tension already thrumming through me.Patrick Quigley was one of the most powerful men in Ireland—sharp, ruthless, and untouchable.The stories about him are legendary, but the whispers about his daughter?Those were rarer, quieter, and far more intriguing.

The daughter no one had ever seen.The one he kept out of sight, away from his world.

In today’s society, where privacy is a luxury even the rich and powerful can’t afford, the fact that Patrick managed to shield her identity entirely is staggering.No photos.No accidental mentions.Nothing.It’s a testament to the kind of power he wielded, the respect and fear he commanded.Keeping Aoife Quigley hidden from the eyes of his enemies and his allies must have been his greatest act of protection.

And now, she’s here.

With her name finally revealed, her guarded exterior is showing the slightest cracks.It all makes sense—the secrecy, the carefully built walls around her.This is what it took to survive as Patrick Quigley’s daughter.

I glance at her again, watching as she traces the rim of her glass absently.She’s distracted, probably still trying to figure out how the hell we found one another again.But my thoughts drift elsewhere to her brother, Ruairi.

Ruairi Quigley hasn’t been in power long.His father’s death put him at the head of their Syndicate less than a year ago, but he’s wasted no time making moves.

The lines between our territories had been clear for years.Dublin was mine.Belfast was theirs.But since Patrick’s death, Ruairi has been pushing south, testing boundaries, trying to claim more.The Midlands, those critical trade routes connecting ports on both coasts, have become a battleground.Whoever controls them doesn’t just control smuggling.They control influence, wealth, and alliances.

It’s a bold play, especially for someone so new to power.And though we’ve exchanged more than one warning shot, I’ve kept my retaliation measured.For now.

But the fact that Ruairi’s sister is sitting in my penthouse?That’s a new kind of weapon.This changes everything.

The idea of Ruairi storming in here, realizing his precious, sheltered sister is with me—it’s not a fantasy.It’s a certainty.Her being here will escalate things between us and push a fragile balance closer to collapse.And I should care more than I do.

But I spent too long looking for her.Too long, wondering where she’d gone and if I’d ever see her again.Every part of me knows she’s a complication I can’t afford, a line I shouldn’t have crossed.She’s not just temptation—she’s the Quigley Syndicate’s untouchable daughter, the one girl who was never meant to be part of this world.

Now she’s here, flesh and fire and defiance, and I won’t let her go.Not when I’ve already tasted what it feels like to have her close.

I take another sip of my wine, leaning back in my chair as I fix my gaze on Aoife.“So,” I say, breaking the silence, “tell me about Ruairi.”