Page 13 of Killaney Fire

Too much fire in the eyes. Too many questions already forming behind them.

Something tells me she's going to make this harder than it has to be.

Either way, she may be beautiful, but that won't save this little princess from following my rules.

5

KEIRA

The hallway's too damn quiet.

I hate the sound of my boots on the marble, the way the guards straighten when I pass. Hate that I know exactly where this conversation I'm about to have is going before I even push through those doors.

Callum's office is just ahead, and my pulse kicks up.

Not from fear.

From subtle rage I'm trying hard to maintain. I tell myself this is for Declan, but I don't know how much that'll help when I'm worked up.

I shove the doors open without knocking. Why the hell would I? This is still our house, even if Callum's been treating it like his personal kingdom.

Callum and Declan both look at me, but my attention doesn't land on them. It can't. Because it's already on him.

Jesus Christ.

The man standing between my brothers is nothing like I expected.

He's tall. No, tall doesn't even cover it. He's massive. Dark hair and eyes with a defined jawline. He's all muscle and broad shoulders, filling out his perfectly tailored suit like he's born to wear it.

And tattoos.

Not a few. Not the kind you get when you think a little ink will make you dangerous. These are bold, black, wrapping up his neck and crawling over his knuckles.

He looks like the kind of man who's stared down death so many times, it got bored and left him alone.

Great.

Just what I need.

His brown eyes are already tracking me the moment I step inside, assessing me. I can feel it.

If I didn't hate the very thing he's here to do, I'd let him buy me a drink.

But I already know from the way he stands, taking up space like it belongs to him, that he's going to do his job too well.

And I'm not going to like him for it.

"Keira," Callum says, clearing his throat. "We were just discussing?—"

"My new babysitter?" I cut in, stepping further into the room. "Yeah, I figured."

Declan laughs. "Be nice."

"Why? He's not here to be my friend."

The Romanian doesn't react. Doesn't blink. Just watches me with that same unreadable calmness he's had on his face since I came in.

It's infuriating.