64. Aoife
Aoife
Tonight changes everything. I tell myself that over and over as I make my way to Eamon’s office, my pulse steady, my steps even. I don’t let myself hesitate. I can’t afford to.
Eamon glances up when I enter, his brows lifting slightly before a slow smile tugs at his lips like he wasn’t expecting me but is damn glad I’m here. “Well, this is a surprise.” His expression softens. "What brings you to me, mo chroí ?" he asks.
I meet his gaze head-on. "Tonight’s the night it ends with Ruairi," I say.
He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. "You’ve decided to let him go, then?" he asks, his tone unreadable.
I don’t blink. "No," I reply, my voice steady.
"You’re going to kill him?" he presses, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"I have no other choice," I say smoothly, keeping my voice even. "I started this. I’ll be the one to finish it."
Eamon exhales, slow and measured, before standing. He walks toward me, eyes locked on mine like he’s searching for something. "You don’t have to do this."
I tilt my chin up. "If I let him go, I’ll be seen as weak. And Ruairi?" I let out a short, humorless laugh. "He won’t hesitate to end me the second he gets the chance. That’s not an option."
He studies me, silent. For the first time since I stepped into this world, Eamon looks at me like I might’ve gone too far. But I don’t waver. I can’t.
"This is for the best," I continue. "It’ll devastate Bridget, but at least she’ll have closure. She’ll be able to move on."
Eamon shakes his head slightly, dragging a hand through his hair. "And after?"
"After, I take my place as head of the Quigley Syndicate." I step closer, voice dropping. "The war between our Syndicates will end.”
For a beat, he doesn’t move. Then, finally, he inclines his head. "I stand with you," he says quietly, the words heavy with meaning.
The weight in my chest eases slightly. "I need your help to set it up. It has to look like an outside hit."
Eamon nods. "My guards are at your disposal."
"I’m doing it myself,” I say, leaving no room for argument.
His expression hardens instantly, his jaw tightening as he closes the space between us. "No."
"He’s weak. Worn down. He won’t be able to fight me off."
"And if you’re wrong?" he counters. "If he overpowers you? I’m not taking that chance."
"I started this," I say, voice low, firm. "I will be the one to end it."
Eamon’s eyes bore into mine. "One of my guards goes down first. He’ll restrain Ruairi before you get anywhere near him."
I bristle. "Eamon?—"
"I’m not fucking budging on this, Aoife." His voice is harsh. "And I’ll be down there too."
My hands curl into fists, but I force myself to relax them. "Fine." I take a slow breath. "But I don’t want any other guards there."
He hesitates but then nods once. "No one else."
I hold out my hand. "Swear it."
His gaze locks on mine. And then he takes my hand, his grip firm. "I swear."
There. Done.
Before I can second-guess myself, before its weight can sink in, Seamus walks into the room.
"Boss," he says. “There’s a situation that needs your attention.”
Eamon sighs, his gaze lingering on me a moment longer. “I have to take care of this, but I’ll be back. We’ll get this handled tonight,” he says before he steps past me, heading for the door.
The moment it clicks shut behind him, I pull out my phone and dial. Cian picks up on the first ring.
"It’s set for tonight," I say quietly, moving toward the window. "I have him at an old castle on the west cliffs. There’s a watchtower just beyond the south wall—unguarded, no cameras. It’s the best place to wait."
"When?" he asks, his voice edged with anticipation.
"Be there just after nightfall," I tell him. "Stay hidden until you hear two shots. That’s your signal. Ruairi and Eamon will both be handled by then, and you’ll know it’s safe to move in."
Cian exhales a slow breath. "You’ve done good, lass."
“I have to go,” I say and hang up quickly.
Seamus looms in the doorway, arms crossed, suspicion carved into every line of his face. He doesn’t say a word as he reaches back to shove the door shut, then strides into the room, his gaze pinning me in place like a predator stalking its prey.
"You’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on."