Page 15 of Killaney Fire

"You'll go where you need to go, and I'll be there. It doesn't need to be difficult," Octavian says.

"Like hell you will," I snap, looking at him. "You can wait in the car. I mean, Callum, do you have any idea how that's going to look? A fucking eight-foot wall of muscle hovering over me at a charity dinner? People will think I'm scared—or worse, he'll scare them."

"I want people around you to be cautious," Octavian says.

"I don't do cautious."

"Then you'll learn."

The air in the room shifts as I step closer to him, closing the distance until I'm standing just a few feet away.

"You think you can just walk in here and tell me what to do?" I ask, my voice low.

"I don't need to tell you," he says. "You'll follow the rules that keep you alive, or I'll make sure you do."

My jaw clenches. "Is that a threat?"

"It's a fact."

Declan shifts. "Alright, alright. Let's dial it back."

"Stay out of this," I say, not taking my eyes off Octavian.

"Let me make something very clear," I say. "I don't care who vouched for you. I don't care what your résumé says. You work for me, not the other way around."

"I work for your family and you're the asset to protect."

"Asset," I repeat. "I'm not a fucking asset. I'm a?—"

"You are to me," he says, not letting me finish.

Declan shifts and comes up to me. "He means professionally, Keira. Come on now."

I narrow my eyes. "I don't care what he means."

I step even closer, close enough to hear his very calm breathing, close enough to see the faint stubble on his face.

"Do you always talk to the people you're supposed to protect like this?" I ask.

"Only the ones who plan on getting themselves killed."

"Is that what you think?" I ask.

He doesn't answer.

Because he doesn't need to. I see it in the way he watches me. Like I'm already a fucking liability.

"Keira, that's enough now," Callum says.

"Fine," I say, offering a fake smile. "Follow me around. Hover in the corners. Act like a human CCTV. Just know this." I leanin. "You ever try to control me, you'll regret stepping foot in this house."

"I don't need to control you," he says. "I just need to keep you breathing. What you do in the meantime is your choice."

"Good," I say, forcing a smile. "Because I'm going to make your job a living hell."

His mouth forms into a slight smirk. The first change I've seen since laying eyes on him. It's almost mocking me. "I'm sure we'll be just fine."

Jesus, I hate him.