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“Good.”I stand, clapping a hand on his shoulder.“Keep me updated.And don’t let her slip through your fingers.”

Cian smiles, the familiar confidence I’ve always admired in him returning.“Don’t worry.I’ll take care of it.”

As I leave Cian’s office, I allow myself a brief moment of hope.The pieces are moving.The board is shifting.But as I step out into the cool afternoon air, a nagging unease coils low in my chest.

Eamon O’Sullivan isn’t the kind of man who lets go easily.He doesn’t chase women for fun, and he sure as hell doesn’t keep them around without a reason.

And Aoife, she’s spent her whole life protected, kept far enough away from the fire not to feel the heat.She thinks she’s in control now, finally making her own choices.But she has no idea how deep this game runs or how quickly it can swallow her whole.

Cian

The city humswith its usual chaos, the streets of Dublin alive with the sound of impatient horns and the rhythmic chatter of passersby.But none of it touches me, not really.The noise is distant and insignificant compared to the sharp clarity of my thoughts.

Ruairi’s request lingers in my mind like the aftertaste of something forbidden—unexpected but not altogether unpleasant.He wants me to go to Aoife.To be seen with her.Shape perception.Plant ideas.

He may as well have handed her to me.

I met her once, years ago.She couldn’t have been more than seven or eight, all wide eyes and wild hair, bouncing into her father’s office like she owned it.She was a distraction then.Nothing more than a bothersome child interrupting conversations she didn’t understand.I barely looked at her.

But now?Now she’s a woman.And not just any woman.She walks with pride and speaks with that sharp-tongued defiance that’s all fire and bite, like she knows what she’s doing.But beneath it, there’s something else.

She’s naïvé—untouched.Preserved like a secret.Hidden away by men who thought they were protecting her.Shielding her.All they really did was keep her ripe.

And Ruairi, the fool, just handed her over like she’s a pawn in his game.But Aoife Quigley isn’t a piece to be moved.She’s something to be claimed.

Broken in.

Ruined.

And if anyone’s going to do it, it’ll be me.

Ruairi thinks he’s using me to control her.

What he doesn’t realize is he’s handed me something far more interesting.

I step into The Emerald Briar, its polished floors gleaming under the soft glow of chandeliers.The air’s clean and inviting, carrying a subtle blend of citrus and bergamot mingled with hints of sandalwood and a trace of white tea.It’s a scent that speaks of quiet luxury, perfectly complementing the opulent surroundings.Eamon O’Sullivan has always known how to project power.

It doesn’t take long to find her.Aoife stands behind the front desk, her uniform crisp and professional, but there’s something about the way she holds herself.A subtle defiance and a fire in her green eyes.

She’s no longer hidden away, unknown by those in our world.She’s transformed into something far more powerful, more dangerous.A force that cannot be ignored.For a moment, I wonder if Ruairi truly understands what he’s unleashed or if he’s blinded by the illusion that he can still control her.

When her gaze lifts and locks onto mine, surprise flashes across her face.It’s fleeting, gone almost as quickly as it appeared and replaced by a polite smile.But I see the way her fingers pause over the keyboard, the subtle shift in her stance.

“Cian?”she says, her voice smooth but edged with curiosity.

“Aoife,” I reply, letting her name roll off my tongue with a familiarity that makes her blink.“What are the odds?”

Her smile falters for a fraction of a second before she catches herself.“What are you doing in Dublin?”

I shrug, slipping my hands into my pockets as I lean casually against the counter.“A cousin’s wedding, if you can believe it.I figured I’d stay a few days.Enjoy the city.”

She studies me, her gaze scrutinizing, but her tone remains light.“And you just happened to check into this hotel?”

I laugh softly, the sound easy, but calculated.“A coincidence, I swear.Though I have to say, seeing you here is the best surprise I’ve had all week.”

Her lips press into a thin line, and she glances down, typing something on her computer.“Well, welcome to The Emerald Briar.”Her tone is polite—detached.

Then, after a brief pause: “And your last name?”