Page 38 of His Obsession

Callum stood, his movements sharp and deliberate. “Then reconsider quickly. Because if you think I’ll let either of them lay a finger on Isolde, you’re dead wrong.”

As Callum turned to leave, Fitzwilliam’s voice stopped him cold.

“You care about her,” the older man said, his tone laced with something unreadable. “More than you want to admit.”

Callum didn’t turn around. His voice was quiet, but firm, as he replied. “Care doesn’t matter. Protection does.”

With that, he strode out of the club, the cool weight of the gun in his pocket feeling heavier than ever. Outside, the rain began to fall in steady sheets, the dark sky reflecting the storm brewing within Callum. As he climbed into the SUV, his phone buzzed in his pocket. The screen lit up with a message that made his blood run cold:

“They’ve got her. Move fast.”

Callum’s grip tightened on the wheel, his jaw clenching as he gunned the engine. The game had just shifted, and the stakes were higher than ever.

Isolde’s life depended on him. And he never lost.

14

ISOLDE

The sound of voices filled the grand entryway of the mansion as Isolde descended the staircase, her resolve as delicate and sharp as the silk dress skimming her curves. Her decision to attend Councilman Bradford’s fundraiser had come to her in the hours following Callum’s departure, a bold and reckless plan that she knew could only lead to further entanglement. But it wasn’t just her safety at stake anymore. The tangled web surrounding the foundation, her family, and Callum’s world needed clarity. And this was the only way she could find it.

Callum’s men had kept their distance, but they were always present—shadows she couldn’t shake. Two of them stood near the entrance to the study now, their broad shoulders and dark suits radiating quiet authority.

“I need to speak to you,” she said, her voice calm but firm.

The taller of the two men, a dark-haired enforcer named Tiernan, stepped forward, his expression unreadable. “What about?”

“I’m attending the fundraiser tonight. Councilman Bradford is hosting it at my friend Siobhan’s gallery. If I don’t show up,it will raise questions—and not just about me. The foundation’s reputation is at risk.”

Tiernan exchanged a glance with his companion, then frowned. “Callum won’t like it.”

“I’m not asking for his permission,” Isolde said, trying to keep her tone neutral, although her heart twisted at the thought of what Callum would say—or do—when he found out. “This is about optics. If I disappear entirely, Bradford will smell blood in the water. We can’t let him think he’s won.”

The second man, a stocky blond named Quinn, folded his arms. “You want us to take you into the lion’s den so you can what? Mingle?”

Isolde lifted her chin. “I want to gather information. If Bradford’s working with Eoin Lynch, this is the perfect chance to learn more. You’re his spies, aren’t you? You’ll be there. Keep me safe and out of trouble.”

Tiernan’s jaw clenched as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “This isn’t up to us.”

“I’m not waiting for him to?—”

Tiernan raised a hand, silencing her as he dialed. The call connected quickly, and the low, gravelly tone of Callum’s voice carried through the air like a current of electricity.

“She wants to go to Bradford’s event,” Tiernan said without preamble.

The line crackled with silence before Callum’s reply came, cold and clipped. “Let her.”

“Boss, are you sure?” Tiernan asked, his tone wary.

“I said, let her. Walsh will meet you at the gallery with backup. Keep her in your sights at all times.”

Isolde’s stomach tightened as Tiernan pocketed the phone, his dark eyes narrowing on her. “You heard him. You’re going, but we’re running the show.”

“Fine,” she said, though her voice wavered slightly. She turned on her heel and walked away before they could see the flicker of nerves crossing her face.

That evening, the glittering lights of Siobhan’s gallery illuminated the night like a beacon, its modern, glass-and-steel façade gleaming in the rain-slicked streets. Isolde stepped out of the sleek black car, the hem of her emerald silk dress brushing against her heels as she accepted Tiernan’s arm for balance.

“You’re sure about this?” he murmured as they approached the entrance.

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