Chapter 19
Zora
"What are you doing?" Roisin asks again. The question isn't angry. If anything, that makes it worse.
I open my mouth, desperately searching for something. Anything, that might soften the blow. Nothing comes. Because there is no explanation that doesn't sound like a lie.
"What is this?" She asks, her voice sharper this time. "Why are you in my father's private room?"
"Roisin, please, just let me explain."
"Then explain." The demand comes immediately. Her eyes never leave mine. "Because right now, Vivienne, it looks like I just walked in on the two of you breaking into my grandfather's locker."
I take a careful step forward. "It's not as simple as that."
"Then make it simple." The disappointment in her voice hurts more than the accusation. "What are you looking for?"
I hesitate. That hesitation is a mistake. I see it the second she notices. Her expression changes. Just slightly but enough.
"You weren't invited into this room." Her gaze shifts toward the electronic bypass device still attached to the keypad.
"You didn't accidentally end up here that day." Another look toward the documents. Then back at me. "You planned this."
Her eyes search my face as though she's seeing me for the first time. Every conversation. Every question. Every moment we spent together. I can practically see her replaying all of it.
"You lied to me."
"Roisin…"
"You lied to me." The hurt in her voice is impossible to miss.
For several seconds she simply stares at me. Then her gaze shifts toward Nico. A different realization follows immediately. One that makes the color drain from her face.
Slowly, she looks back at me. "Who are you? Who are you really, Vivienne?" The use of my fake name feels deliberate. A reminder that she doesn't actually know me. Maybe she never did.
"You sat in my room while I told you things I've never told anyone else." She continues, her voice trembling despite her obvious effort to control it. "You listened to me. You told me I deserved better than this family."
Her eyes drift toward the open locker. "And all this time you were doing this?"
The guilt hits harder than I expect. Because somewhere along the way, Roisin stopped being a mission objective. She became my friend.
Nico steps forward before I can answer. "There are things happening inside this family that you don't know about."
Roisin doesn't even look at him. Her attention remains fixed entirely on me.
"Who are you?" She asks quietly. "Who are either of you?" The question hangs heavily in the room.
For a moment, nobody speaks. The distant music from the celebration drifts faintly through the walls. Somewhere outside, fireworks continue exploding over the lake, completely unaware of the disaster unfolding in this bedroom.
Then everything changes. A deafening siren suddenly erupts throughout the estate. The sound tears through the silence so violently that all three of us flinch.
My heart immediately drops into my stomach. We've been caught. The thought slams into me instantly. I see the same realization flash across Roisin's face.
Nico, however, reacts differently. His attention immediately shifts. He checks his watch.
His expression sharpens. "No."
"What do you mean no?" I stare at him.
"The loop is still active."
Another blast of the alarm echoes through the manor. The shrill sound seems endless. Relentless.
"We still have two minutes."
My confusion must show on my face because Nico continues immediately.
"If security found us through the cameras, the timing wouldn't match."
The realization slowly sinks in. This alarm isn't because of us. Which means something else is happening. Something bad.
Roisin looks between us before taking a slow breath. When she finally speaks, her voice is steadier than before.
"I'm helping you."
For a second I think I misheard her. "What?"
"I'm helping you leave."
"Roisin…"
She immediately cuts me off. "Don't thank me."
Her eyes remain locked on mine. "I'm not helping because I trust either of you. I'm certainly not helping because I approve of whatever you've been doing in my grandfather's room."
The words sting because I know I deserve them.
"I'm helping because when I needed someone, you were the only person who stood beside me."
A lump forms in my throat. "Roisin..."
"When I told you about Conall, you believed me. When everyone else dismissed me, you listened." Her voice wavers slightly. "But after tonight, we're even."
The words land heavily between us.
Before I can respond, another sound cuts through the estate. A gunshot. The crack echoes somewhere below us.
A second gunshot follows shortly after.
Then three more. Then a rapid burst. The atmosphere inside the room changes instantly.
The confrontation. The betrayal. The explanations. None of it matters anymore. Because whatever is happening downstairs has suddenly become far more dangerous than us.
Nico moves first. "Everybody move."
The command snaps all of us back into action.
Within seconds we're gathering documents from the floor. Nico quickly sorts through the files, selecting only the most valuable material before sliding them into the hidden pockets sewn inside his tuxedo jacket.
The locker is secured again. The hidden compartment disappears behind the coats as though it was never opened in the first place. Then we leave Fergus's room.
The moment we step into the corridor, it becomes obvious that something has gone terribly wrong. People are running. Staff members are shouting. The alarm continues screaming through the estate.
Another burst of gunfire erupts somewhere below us. This time much closer.
Roisin goes pale. "What the hell is happening?"
Nobody answers because nobody knows.
We move quickly through the corridor toward the main hall, but the closer we get, the worse the chaos becomes.
Terrified guests rush past us in expensive gowns and tuxedos. A maid nearly collides with me before stumbling away in tears. Somewhere below, glass shatters loudly enough to echo through the entire manor.
Then a scream rings out. Not surprised. Not frightened. Agonized. The kind of scream that makes your blood run cold.
Nico immediately pushes both Roisin and me behind a stone column at the corner of the corridor. "Stay down."
He leans forward just enough to look into the main hall below. Whatever he sees immediately darkens his expression.
I move beside him and glance down.
The celebration has become a battlefield. Guests are crawling for cover. Security teams are returning fire from behind overturned tables. Smoke hangs in the air. Shattered crystal litters the marble floor below.
Nico's eyes narrow. For a brief moment, he studies the attackers moving through the hall.
Then his jaw tightens. "This isn't random."
"What?" I ask.
"The attackers."
Another burst of gunfire interrupts him.
Nico keeps watching. "I've seen that symbol before."
"What symbol?"
"The tattoo." He looks back at me.
"A windrose?"
Recognition flashes across his face immediately afterward. "'Ndrangheta."
The name sends a chill down my spine. One of the most powerful criminal organizations in Europe. And they're here. Inside the Keegan estate. Inside a mansion full of rival syndicates and powerful families. Which means this isn't an attack. It's a massacre.
Nico immediately pulls us farther behind cover as another volley of bullets tears through the hall.
The air smells like smoke and gunpowder now.
Screams echo through the manor. Somewhere below, security teams are desperately trying to regain control while guests flee in every direction.
For a brief moment, everything becomes chaos.
Then Nico reaches inside his tuxedo jacket. My eyes follow the movement automatically. He pulls out something black. A mask.
The material is sleek and matte, designed to conceal most of his face leaving his eyes. Without hesitation, he slides it on and secures it into place with practiced efficiency, as though he has performed the action hundreds of times before.
The transformation is immediate. Terrifyingly immediate.
For a second, I can only stare. Because suddenly I know exactly where I've seen that mask before.
Not here. Not in Ireland. Not during this mission.
A year ago around the beach. Aurelia.
My pulse stutters. No!
The man who appeared and disappeared before anyone could stop him. Before I could stop him. Il Fantasma. The Ghost.
For one stunned second, all I can do is stare at him. At the man standing beside me. The man I've spent weeks arguing with. Trusting. Working alongside. The man who shared my room. My plans. My secrets.
Nico turns toward me. His dark eyes lock onto mine through the mask. "Zora."
I straighten immediately. I do not have the time to dwell on this. I need to get out of Ireland alive.
"Do you still have your gun?"
Even with the estate collapsing around us, the question steadies me.
The panic that had been clawing at my chest slowly begins to recede, replaced by something much more familiar. Training. Instinct. The cold focus that always arrives whenever a situation becomes dangerous enough that there is no longer any room for hesitation.
"Always."
My hand disappears beneath the layers of emerald fabric gathered around my legs.
The pistol is exactly where I secured it this evening.
Strapped against my thigh. Hidden beneath enough silk and tulle to fool everyone attending the celebration.
The familiar weight settles into my palm as I draw the weapon free.
Immediately, I feel more like myself. Beside me, Roisin makes a small choking sound. I glance over her and see her staring at the pistol. Then at me. Then back at the pistol. The look on her face would almost be funny if we weren't hiding from automatic gunfire.
"No."
I blink. "No?"
Her eyes narrow. "You can actually shoot?"
A bullet tears through a nearby wall. Neither of us pays attention.
"Yes."
Roisin looks genuinely offended. "Vivienne, you nearly shot Lucien during the hunt."
"I grazed him."
"You shot him."
Nico chooses that exact moment to contribute. "It was personal."