Page 53 of Bound By Darkness

“Hold one.Are you telling me she’s Ruairi’s twin sister?”He leans forward, his voice lowering.“You mean to tell me the woman you’reag scairteadh léiis Patrick Quigley’s daughter?The one he kept hidden for years?”

I nod once.“Yes.”

Seamus lets out a low whistle.“Christ, Eamon.That explains a lot.How the hell did this even happen?”

“It was an accident,” I say flatly, not wanting to indulge him but knowing he won’t let it go.“We met in the Maldives.I didn’t know who she really was, and then she left unexpectedly.”

Seamus smirks.“So she’s what’s had you so twisted up all this time.I didn’t have you pegged as the type to lose your head over some pussy.”

I glare at him, my voice cutting through his amusement.“You’re treading on thin ice.”

“Fine, fine.”He raises his hands in mock surrender.But still, mucker, this is different.The woman’s a hot piece of ass, no denying that, but she’s not worth?—”

I’m on him before he finishes the sentence, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him halfway across the table.My voice drops, deadly quiet.“Do not.Talk.About her.Like that.Not ever.”

Seamus stares at me, shocked, before nodding slowly.I release him as I sit back in my chair.“You will treat Aoife with respect,” I say, my tone laced with warning.“I can promise you won’t like what happens if you don’t.Understood?”

He nods again, straightening his shirt, his focus shifting as he clears his throat.“Fine.So, what do we do about this attack?”

“We strike back,” I say.“Quigley just received a critical shipment of weapons.He’s planning to move it through the Midlands en route to supply a nationalist faction that’s looking to stir unrest in the North.If this deal goes through, he won’t just strengthen his Syndicate.He’ll position himself as a major player with political factions owing him favors.”

Seamus’ expression darkens.“The Midlands?If he’s running his routes through there, he’s not just pushing limits.He’s staking a claim.”

“Exactly,” I reply, my voice tightening.“He’s testing the waters, seeing how far he can go before someone pushes back.This shipment isn’t just about weapons.It’s leverage.If he pulls this off, he’ll have power over groups no one should have control of.”

“So, we hit it.Hard.Make sure Quigley loses the shipment and the deal.That’ll send a clear message.”

“And cripple his plans,” I add, leaning back in my chair.“We intercept it before it leaves the Midlands.His buyers lose faith, and he loses the foothold he’s trying to build.”

“And here I thought we’d have a quiet week.”Seamus grins, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.“And Quigley?Do you want me to take him out?”

I shake my head.“No.Ruairi stays unharmed.Make that clear to the men.”

Seamus’s mouth opens like he’s about to protest, but the look I give him silences whatever thought crosses his mind.“You’re the boss,” he mutters, though the doubt in his voice is unmistakable.

“Good,” I say and motion toward the door.“Now get it done.”

Seamus hesitates for a moment before nodding and leaving the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Sitting alone in the silence, the gravity of what’s about to transpire weighs heavily on me.Ruairi’s not stupid.He knew exactly what he was doing by attacking my shipment.He wanted to provoke me, to test how far I’d go for Aoife.And I know it won’t end here.

But I meant what I said to her.She’s mine now, and I won’t allow anyone, including her brother, to take her from me.

The room feels too quiet, the silence almost mocking as it settles around me.My phone sits on the table, the screen dark.But my mind is already racing ahead, calculating my next move.Ruairi thinks he can send a message, but he’ll learn soon enough that I don’t play defense.I strike back.

For now, I’ll ensure his safety—for Aoife’s sake.It’s a line I won’t cross unless he forces my hand.If that happens, I’ll no longer be able to guarantee his survival.

With my decision made, I rise to my feet.If Quigley wants a war, then he’ll get one.And when the final move is played, there won’t be a shadow of doubt about who holds the upper hand.

Aoife

The lobbyof the Emerald Briar hums with late afternoon activity.Guests filter in through the revolving doors, the quiet click of polished shoes echoing against marble floors.The soft whir of suitcase wheels trail behind them, blending with low conversation and the occasional chime of the elevator.Sunlight slants in through the tall windows, casting warm streaks across the glossy check-in counter where I stand.

I finish processing a reservation for a couple from Spain, sliding them their room keys with a practiced smile.Their gratitude is polite yet distant.They’re already eager to disappear into the elevator and begin whatever version of their escape brought them here.

I’ve never held a job before this.Not because I wasn’t capable but because I wasn’t allowed.Da’s priority was keeping me hidden, sheltered from the public eye like a secret too dangerous to share.For years, I told myself it was for my own protection.Now, as I stand beneath a chandelier of cut glass and gold trim, I’m anything but hidden.

Working the front desk at the hotel isn’t glamorous, but there’s something grounding about it—something real.Surprisingly, I like it more than I expected.There’s comfort in the structure, the repetition.Here, I’m not a Quigley.I’m just Aoife, and that feels like power in its own right.

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