Page 87 of Bound By Darkness

The words hang heavy in the air, pressing down like unseen hands at my throat.The darkness ahead is deep, yawning, stretching wider with each breath.There’s no turning back, no escape.If I want a future with Aoife, I have to end this.

But hope is a cruel thing.It lingers in the space between certainty and ruin, whispering that there’s still time, still a way out.

There isn’t.

There’s no peace for us while Ruairi draws breath, no future untouched by blood or betrayal.The way ahead is narrowing—each cruel choice is suspended between damnation and the dark unknown.The pressure builds, tightening, constricting, something unseen yet inescapable, forcing me forward.

It’s him or me.

The descent has begun.

Aoife

“Please, Aoife,”Bridget begs.“Come home.At least for a visit.”

“I already told you,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose, trying not to snap.“I’m not coming back.”

She blows out a frustrated breath.“I can’t stand seeing you and Ruairi torn apart like this.Over a man.”

Like this is some petty feud, some childish grudge I’m holding because of Eamon.

“It’s more than that,” I say, my tone sharper than I intend.

“Then explain it to me,” she pleads.

I take a slow breath, forcing down the bitterness in my throat.“Ruairi sent Cian to Dublin.”

Bridget goes silent.

“When he showed up, I gave him the benefit of the doubt,” I continue.“I spent the day with him, just to see what he was playing at.And then he sent pictures of us to Ruairi like I was some kind of trophy to be won.”

Bridget inhales sharply.“Oh, Evie?—”

“And do you know what Ruairi did in response?He sent me the most vile, hateful messages.He called me a whore.”My voice cracks.“And when that wasn’t enough?He set fire to Eamon’s club.”

Bridget gasps.“He what?”

“Obsidian, Eamon’s club.He ordered it to burn while people were inside.”My stomach twists at the memory.“One of Eamon’s men is in the hospital with severe injuries.Innocent people could’ve died.And for what?To make a point?To control me?”

Bridget’s quiet for a long moment.

“I’m sorry,” she finally whispers, and I hear the sincerity in her voice.“You have to understand that your brother is worried about you.He’d do anything to keep you safe.”

I close my eyes, pressing my fingers against my temple.Why does everyone keep excusing him?“That doesn’t make it okay, and where I appreciate the apology, it doesn’t change anything,” I say, my patience fraying.“Not until it comes from him.”

She’s about to say something else, but a voice from the front desk interrupts me.

“Sorry, Brie.I have to go.I’m the only one here today.”

She sighs.“Okay.Just promise me you’ll think about it, alright?”

I don’t answer before I hang up, shoving my phone into my pocket as I step back behind the desk.

A man stands there, waiting, dressed like he belongs in a boardroom, but everything about him screams back alley.

“Welcome to the Emerald Briar.Are you here to check in?”

“I have a meeting with Mr.O’Sullivan,” he says, his voice carrying the unmistakable weight of business.

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