She frowns, her shoulders tensing slightly.“What about him?”
“Anything you haven’t already mentioned,” I reply smoothly.“You said he won’t let you work in your family’s Syndicate.Why?”
Her lips press together for a moment before she sighs.“I’m a girl,” she says bluntly.“In his eyes, that makes me a liability.He keeps saying I need to stay out of it, that it’s not my place.”
I scoff, setting my glass down on the table.“And what do you think?”
Her gaze snaps to mine, fire sparking in her eyes.“I think he’s wrong.”
“Good,” I say with a faint smirk.“Then we’re on the same page.”
She arches a brow, cautious.“What do you mean?”
Studying her, I let the silence stretch between us.When I finally speak, my voice is calm.Certain.“Us.This.”I motion between us.“That’s how I’ll get to him.”
Her expression shifts, guarded now.“So I’m bait?”
“You’re leverage,” I correct, tone even.“Your family kept you hidden your entire life.You watched from the shadows while you were whispered about behind closed doors.All the while, they told themselves it was to protect you.”I lean in, gaze locked on hers.“But we both know better.”
Her breath catches.She knows I’m right.
“They kept you out of something you were born to be part of.Shut you out of the world they built while expecting you to stay silent, stay small.”I let the next words fall like a quiet verdict.“And now you’re with me.”
She doesn’t flinch.Doesn’t look away.But I feel the storm building behind her eyes.
“He won’t take that well.”Her mouth opens like she wants to argue, but she quickly corrects herself.“Ruairi thinks he owns your loyalty,” I continue.“And when he finds out you’ve given it to me, it’ll gut him.”
She doesn’t speak.Doesn’t move.But I can feel the energy shift between us.
Because it’s not just that she’s with me.It’s that she chose to be.Her family kept her locked outside the game her whole life.But now?She’s inside.And she’s sitting across from the enemy.
Aoife doesn’t speak.Doesn’t move.The moment stretches between us, taut and heavy, like a breath held too long.
She’s no prisoner.There are no chains.Just a quiet, beautiful stillness—like a woman standing beneath the slow descent of the blade, daring it to fall.And maybe, just maybe, hoping it will.
That tells me everything I need to know.Aoife’s hesitation is palpable, but I see the intrigue in her eyes.
She’s already in it.
“How?”she asks, her voice low and cautious.
“We dismantle him,” I say, my voice quieter now.“From the inside out.Not with bullets or bloodshed.With doubt.With fear.”
I pause, letting the words hang.Letting her breathe them in.
“We’ll make him question everything he thinks he knows about you, about himself, about the grip he believes he still has.Every truth he’s ever relied on?We’ll twist it until it cuts.”
She stares at me, breath catching just slightly.“And if it doesn’t work?”
I lean closer, slow and deliberate, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
“It will,” I whisper.“Because we won’t give him a choice.”
The silence stretches between us, charged and electric.Her lips part slightly, her breathing uneven.I know I’m pushing her boundaries, testing the line between her defiance and her trust.
“You’re insane,” she murmurs, but there’s no conviction behind her words.
“You already knew that,” I reply, my voice low and deliberate.