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Without guards.

Without backup.

I already have no respect for the bastard, but this?This was careless.Dangerous.I should kill him just for putting her in danger.

Bringing a woman to a meeting like that was reckless enough, but bringing Aoife Quigley?He should’ve known better.Her name alone makes her a target.And if the wrong people realize who she is, what she is, she’s dead.

Instead, she let O’Leary lead her straight into the fire.

And those fucking pictures.

I don’t know what pisses me off more.The fact that she spent the day with him and let him stick his tongue down her goddamn throat inmyelevator or the fact that he sent them straight to Ruairi like she’s some kind of trophy.

Every part of me is teetering on the edge.And that’s why we’re here.I need her to back out.To realize this isn’t a game.That what happens down here isn’t something she can walk away from unchanged.

But she doesn’t.

My voice is harsh as I push her to give up.“Having second thoughts?”

Her chin lifts, defiant.“No.”

I watch her closely, reading every emotion she doesn’t think she’s showing.The tension in her shoulders, the way her breath hitches before she catches herself and forces it under control.

“You can still turn back, Aoife,” I say, my voice quieter now but no less firm.“It’s not too late.”

Silently, I plead with her to take the out.To admit that this isn’t what she wants.To prove that some part of her still values self-preservation over proving a point.

Because if she does this, if she goes through with what I’m about to ask of her, there’s no undoing it.No coming back.

But she doesn’t.

Her jaw sets, her spine straightens, and without a word, she pushes past me, her shoulder knocking into mine as she descends first, her steps steady despite the slick stone beneath us.

It’s a challenge.A silent fuck you.

I exhale sharply, dragging a hand down my face before following.

That was it.Her last chance.

And she walked right past it.

The underground level closes in around us.The heavy air presses against my skin like something living.The scent of rot and damp stone mingles with the metallic sting of blood.I try to take a deep breath, but it sticks in my chest.My fingers flex at my sides before curling into fists, the tension winding through me like a coiled wire.

I’ve done this more times than I can count.I know the steps, the process, the outcome.But tonight is different.Shemakes it different.

My pulse thrums in my ears, too fast, too loud.I roll my shoulders and crack the tension in my neck, but it does nothing to shake the apprehension that gnaws at me.

I might be making the biggest mistake of my life.

But my plan is already in motion.There’s no stopping it now.

Aoife doesn’t speak as I lead her through the dimly lit corridor, past the heavy oak doors and jagged stone archways that have stood for centuries.Until we come to the holding room.

We step inside, and I know the exact moment her eyes find him.Aoife stops beside me, her reaction controlled—but I see it.The hesitation.The unspoken questions.

I silently question what the fuck I’m doing bringing her down here.

“This,” I say, keeping my voice even, “is one of your brother’s men.”