Page 14 of His Obsession

I told you to be careful. You’re not playing their game, Isolde. You’re playing mine. –C

The air seemed to leave the room, her vision narrowing as she stared at the message.

“Is everything all right?” Walsh asked, his voice cutting through the fog of her thoughts.

Isolde slipped the phone back into her pocket, her expression carefully neutral. “Yes,” she lied, turning back to the folder in her hands. “Everything’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine.

Not by a long shot.

6

CALLUM

Rain lashed against the windows of Callum’s office, streaking the glass in uneven rivulets that distorted the view of the Dublin skyline. The storm outside mirrored the one brewing inside him, each drop a metronome to his simmering rage. He sat behind his massive oak desk, his dark gaze fixed on the document in his hand.

Padraig Byrne stood a few feet away, his usual calm demeanor marred by unease as he explained the details of the report.

“Councilman Bradford’s been sniffing around for months,” Padraig said, his voice steady despite the charged atmosphere filling the room. “But now, it’s more than just idle curiosity. He’s flagged several of the Fitzwilliam Foundation’s transactions for review.”

Callum’s growled low, the paper crinkling in his grip. “How close is he to making it a problem?”

Padraig hesitated, and that was answer enough.

“Too close,” Callum muttered, his voice low and dangerous. He tossed the report onto the desk, leaning back in his chair as he ran a hand through his dark hair. The bitter taste of hisespresso lingered on his tongue, growing colder by the second, much like his mood.

“It’s not Isolde,” Padraig added quickly, sensing where Callum’s thoughts were heading. “She hasn’t said a word to anyone about the irregularities. If she had, we’d already know about it. This is all Bradford’s doing. He’s got a vendetta against the O’Neill organization, and he’s using the foundation as a way to come at us sideways.”

Callum’s eyes narrowed. “Why the sudden escalation?”

Padraig shrugged, his expression grim. “Could be personal, could be political. Either way, he’s got the resources to make things difficult. If he starts digging too deep?—”

“He won’t,” Callum interrupted, his tone icy. “I won’t let him.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the rhythmic patter of rain against the glass. Callum leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk as he stared down at the crumpled report.

The Fitzwilliam Foundation had been a calculated risk from the start, a legitimate front that allowed the O’Neill organization to funnel money discreetly while simultaneously bolstering its public image. But now that calculated risk was turning into a liability, thanks to Bradford’s meddling.

And Isolde.

Her name slipped into his thoughts unbidden, a thorn lodged deep in his side. She’d been a complication from the moment she’d stumbled into his world, her fire and defiance threatening to unravel the careful control he prided himself on.

“You’re thinking about her,” Padraig said, his tone somewhere between exasperation and amusement.

Callum shot him a sharp look. “What makes you think that?”

Padraig grinned, folding his arms across his chest. “Because you’ve got that look. The one you get when you’re trying to decide whether to kiss someone or kill them.”

Callum’s lips twitched into a faint, humorless smile. “Maybe both.”

Padraig sighed, running a hand over his face. “You’re playing a dangerous game, boss. If Bradford digs deep enough to find the foundation’s connection to us, she’s going to get caught in the crossfire. You know that.”

“I know,” Callum said quietly, his voice laced with steel. “And I won’t let that happen.”

“You sound awfully sure of yourself.”

“I have to be,” Callum replied, his eyes narrowing. “She’s already in this, whether she knows it or not. If Bradford comes for her, he’ll have to go through me first.”

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