Page 27 of His Possession

“Fine,” he said finally, his voice tight. “But you follow my lead. No arguments, no heroics. You do exactly what I say.”

Maeve nodded. “I can do that.”

Rory turned to Malachy. “Get the cars ready. We move in fifteen.”

As the room cleared, Rory caught Maeve’s arm, pulling her aside. “Don’t do this to try to prove something to me or our men,” he said, his voice low. “This is dangerous, Maeve. Don’t forget that.”

“I’m not,” she said, her gaze steady. “But I can’t stand by and do nothing, Rory. She’s my friend and Tadhg is using her to get to me and then to you. Not anymore.”

Rory studied her for a long moment, the conflict in him threatening to boil over. Finally, he released her, his fingers brushing her skin as he stepped back.

“Then let’s end this,” he said, his voice cold but resolute.

As they walked toward the waiting cars, Rory’s mind raced with a thousand scenarios, each one more dangerous than the last. But one thought burned brighter than the rest.

Tadhg Kelleher had made a fatal mistake. And Rory was about to show him exactly what it meant to cross him and the O’Neill Syndicate.

The warehouse buzzed with quiet efficiency as Rory’s men moved in calculated synchronicity, preparing for the hellfire they were about to unleash. Under Rory’s watchful eye, his men checked their guns, tested their comms, and discussed theirroutes. His presence was a steadying force, commanding respect and precision with nothing more than a sharp look or a curt nod.

But inside, he was anything but steady.

Rory stood near a long table strewn with blueprints and photographs, the layout of the Kelleher stronghold etched into his mind. His panther prowled restlessly beneath his skin, its instincts sharp and unrelenting. It wanted blood—revenge for the insult of Sabella’s kidnapping, justice for the danger Maeve now faced. But more than that, it wanted to protect Maeve, to keep her safe no matter the cost.

He drummed his fingers on the table, his mind racing with possibilities. Every plan he devised felt insufficient, every contingency fraught with risk. Normally, he thrived in this kind of environment, his tactical mind calculating angles and outcomes with ease. But this wasn’t normal.

This was Maeve.

The thought of her in harm’s way made his chest tighten, his carefully maintained control slipping with each passing second. He glanced across the room, his gaze finding her instantly. With crossed arms and scanning blue eyes, she stood near the chaotic preparations, her determined gaze making his heart race.

She looked out of place here, in the middle of his world. And yet, she fit in a way he couldn’t explain. The fire in her gaze matched his, her defiance unyielding even in the face of danger. She wasn’t afraid to stand her ground, and that terrified him.

“You’re too close to this,” Cormac said quietly, his voice cutting through Rory’s thoughts.

Rory turned to face his second-in-command, his expression cold. “Don’t start, Cormac.”

“I’m not questioning your judgment,” Cormac said, his tone measured. “But you need to think this through. If something happens to her…”

“It won’t,” Rory snapped, his voice sharp enough to silence the other man. “Nothing’s going to happen to her.”

Cormac didn’t respond, his steady gaze a silent challenge. Rory exhaled slowly, forcing himself to calm the storm brewing inside him. He knew Cormac was right—he was too close. But it didn’t matter. This wasn’t just another operation. This was Maeve, and failure wasn’t an option.

“She stays by my side,” Rory said finally, his voice quieter but no less firm. “No risks, no heroics. I’ll handle it.”

Cormac nodded, his expression unreadable. “Understood.”

Rory returned his attention to the table, his mind shifting back to the task at hand. The layout of the warehouse was straightforward enough, with multiple entry points and a few key chokepoints. His men would flank the building, securing the exits while Rory and a small team breached the main floor. It was a clean plan, but it relied on precision. Precision wasn’t a Kelleher hallmark.

As he traced a line on the blueprint, he felt Maeve’s presence beside him before she spoke.

“You’re quiet,” she whispered.

Rory glanced at her, his gaze lingering on the curve of her jaw, the determined set of her shoulders. Even now, with danger looming, she looked unshakable. It made his chest ache in a way he couldn’t explain.

“Planning,” he said simply.

Maeve’s lips pressed into a thin line as she studied the map. “I want to help.”

“The best way you can help is by staying alive,” Rory said, his tone sharper than he intended.

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