Page 104 of Yours

I glanced at Kiera, her eyes locked on me, her expression tense as she tried to follow the conversation.

“I’ll be there,” I said finally.

“Good.”

The line went dead, and I set the phone down, running a hand through my hair as I turned to face Kiera.

“What was that about?” she asked, her voice steady, but edged with curiosity.

I leaned against the counter, my arms crossing as I met her gaze. “The mayor got through to Marco. He still wants revenge, buthe’s agreed to a meeting. A chance to talk before this turns into all-out war.”

Her brows furrowed, and she tilted her chin up slightly. “And you’re going?”

“I don’t have a choice,” I said firmly. “If I can stop this before it starts, I will. But it’s Marco—we both know he’s not walking into this with good intentions.”

“Exactly,” Kiera said, stepping closer.

“I’m going alone. I can’t risk anyone else,” I said pointedly, pushing off the counter to face her. “Especially you.”

Her eyes flashed with defiance, and she crossed her arms tighter.

“You can’t just leave me out of this, Ronan. This all started because of me—because I picked a fight with Marco. If he’s coming after you, it’s my mess too.”

I clenched my jaw, my hands curling into fists at my sides. “Kiera, you don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Yes, I do,” she said, her voice steady. “And I’m not asking, Ronan. I’m coming with you.”

I wanted to argue, to tell her no, to order her to stay where it was safe. But the fire in her eyes burned brighter than my protests, and I knew she wasn’t going to back down.

The thing was I’d seen that fire in her before. It wasn’t just stubbornness—though she had plenty of that—it was courage, the kind of quiet, unyielding strength that most people wouldn’t dare summon in the face of someone like me.

That was why she was my queen.

Why, as much as I hated the idea of putting her in harm’s way, I knew she wouldn’t forgive me if I didn’t let her stand beside me.

I sighed heavily, my shoulders sagging in defeat. “Fine. But you do exactly as I say. No arguing, no going off on your own, no trying to play the hero. You’re there to observe, nothing more.”

“Deal,” she said quickly, relief flashing across her face.

I stepped closer, cupping her face in my hands as I stared into her eyes. “This isn’t a game, Kiera. Marco won’t hesitate to use you if he thinks it’ll hurt me. You follow my lead, or I’ll drag you out of there myself. Understood?”

“Understood,” she said softly, her hands coming up to rest on mine.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back. But as I gazed down at her, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was bringing her into something that was far too dangerous. The meeting with Marco wasn’t just a negotiation—it was a test. A game of chess where every move mattered.

And now, with Kiera in play, the stakes felt higher than ever.

I took a deep breath and pulled back my shoulders as I stared at the entryway of the Glasshouse, an upscale restaurant tucked into a quiet corner of Manhattan’s Chelsea neighborhood.

I pushed my hands into the pockets of my coat as I scanned the street. My men were already in place, positioned at strategic points around the restaurant. They weren’t obvious, but theywere there. Kiera stood beside me, her chin high, her shoulders squared.

Watching, waiting, ready.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said softly, breaking the silence.

I glanced at her, my jaw tightening. “Yes, I do.”

She turned to face me fully, her expression hardening. “I’m not telling you what you can or can’t do, Ronan, but if you go in there and provoke him, you might start another war. You already lost Finn, and Leena barely made it out alive.”

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