Page 47 of Killaney Fire

From something infinitely more dangerous.

13

KEIRA

It's here. The Killaney Trust's Annual Fundraiser. Arguably one of the biggest social events of the season in Boston. Where old money mixes with new influence, and every vulture in between will be circling the venue tonight.

And I'm ready. Or at least, I keep telling myself that.

My pulse is steady, half excitement, half nerves. This is the crown jewel of our family's public face, the night where we parade respectability while running the city's underworld behind closed doors.

And tonight, I'm on point, alone.

Normally this is a big family affair. Callum and Declan flanking me like pillars, Mom smiling for photos, Dad making rounds with his gravitas that fills every corner of a room. But tonight, none of them will be here.

Callum made the call. Still too dangerous to have all the Killaneys in one place, he said. Not with the Morrígans circling.

Declan wasn't happy. He fought him hard on it. Even offered to take my place, which made me want to punch him in his stupidly protective face. But Callum stood firm.

I was always meant to be the one to do this. It's my world. The fundraisers, the smiles, the silk-gloved networking.

And tonight, some top people from Shadowharbor are attending, along with some of their top donors. I've arranged one-on-ones under the guise of donor recognition to meet with them.

My job is to ask careful questions without tipping them off.

So yeah. No pressure or anything.

Either way, tonight, I'll make my moves and make my family proud.

Callum also told me that in lieu of them being there, Octavian will be closer tonight and more intense with guarding me.

At first, I didn't know how that could be possible. The man is already everywhere. In doorways, by windows, lurking like some kind of huge Romanian gargoyle with impeccable posture.

But tonight he's not lurking from the sides, staring at me like a creeper.

He'll be by my side the entire night, as my date.

I told Callum that would look ridiculous. A six-foot-six man and a five-foot-four girl. But he just looked at me like he knew I was just trying to find something to complain about. He was right.

Even thinking about him at my side all night now stirs something stupid in me that's warm and electric.

Suddenly, my phone rings, yanking me out of my spiraling thoughts.

Calli's face fills my screen, her eyes bright, smiling at me like she has since we were little.

"Hey, gorgeous," she says, her voice loud through the FaceTime screen. "You look amazing! That dress is giving sexy assassin-princess vibes."

I laugh. "Thanks. I needed that," I say, propping the phone against my vanity mirror.

"I wish I was going with you. I mean, I get why not, but still."

"Next year. We'll go together and drink champagne behind the stage like we do every year."

"Deal." She grins. "So you better not be overthinking any of this."

"I'm not overthinking anything," I lie, as I finish fastening my earrings.

"Liar. I can see it on your face. You've got that look."