34. Eamon
Eamon
The security feed glows on the screen in the penthouse, giving me a perfect view of the restaurant. Aoife sits across from Cian, her posture relaxed, her smile easy, and her movements deliberate. She’s playing her part flawlessly, but watching it unfold twists a knife in my chest.
Cian leans closer, his body language screaming flirtation.
His hand brushes hers, his smile practically dripping with charm.
I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I don’t need sound to know he’s laying it on thick.
And her? She’s letting him, keeping him hooked.
It’s part of the plan, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch.
I sit back in the chair, forcing my hands to stay loose on the armrests instead of curling into fists.
The key to control is restraint, and I’ve mastered that.
Or so I thought. Because right now, every muscle in my body is coiled tight, screaming for me to storm down there, stake my claim, rip her away from him, and end this game entirely.
Movement catches my eye as they leave the restaurant together, his hand resting low on her back. My eyes are glued to the screen as they walk to the elevators. The anticipation builds as I watch the doors close, knowing she’ll be safe in the penthouse in just a few minutes.
I follow their ascent, not missing how Aoife looks up at the camera, knowing I’m watching. The elevator stops, the doors open, and they both step out on his floor.
Sitting forward, I release a low growl as I stare at the screen. My mind races, trying to piece it together. “What the hell are you doing, Aoife?” I ask aloud as I switch to the view of the corridor.
They stop outside his room, and I watch the scene play out. Cian holds his room card against the digital lock. She’s going to his room. My fists clench, and the familiar cold anger starts to bleed into my veins.
I don’t trust him. Not for a second. He’s dangerous, and we both know he’s not here by accident. Even without evidence, I know Ruairi’s hand is in this. Cian is a pawn, and Ruairi sent him here to test her. To test me.
Every instinct I have screams at me to act, to go down there and rip the door off its hinges. But I know I can’t step in. This is about Aoife and the Syndicate she should be leading. I have to let her handle this.
Tension drives me to my feet, the phone gripped tight as I start pacing the room.
If I can’t go to her, I’ll make damn sure she’s protected.
I call my head of security in the hotel, barking orders.
“I want at least two men on Cian O’Leary’s floor immediately.
Keep them discreet, but I want them stationed near his room. Now.”
“Yes, sir,” he replies.
“If anything happens, you call me. Immediately.” He barely manages a response before I hang up and dial Seamus. “What’s the update on the Callahan situation?” I snap, not bothering with a greeting.
There’s a pause on the other end before Seamus rattles off information about the latest skirmish. I’m only half-listening. My thoughts are still on Aoife.
“Eamon,” Seamus says cautiously, clearly picking up on my mood. “Is something else going on?”
“No,” I snap, cutting him off. “Just handle the Callahan’s. Do your damn job, and stop questioning me.”
He hesitates again, and I can hear the tension in his voice when he speaks. “Alright, but you seem?—”
“Enough,” I say, my voice low and dangerous. “I don’t need commentary. Get it done.”
Before he can respond, I hang up, tossing the phone onto the desk. The walls of the penthouse feel like they’re closing in around me. It’s too quiet despite the storm raging inside me. I force myself to sit, to review reports, to occupy my hands with anything that might keep my mind from spiraling.
But none of it works. My eyes dart to the clock, counting the minutes, the seconds, until the door finally opens.
The sound of her heels clicking against the floor sends a wave of relief through me, followed quickly by the heat of residual anger. I stand, watching as she walks in, calm and collected like she didn’t just light me on fire by going to his room.
“Aoife,” I say, my voice sharp.
There’s a fiery intensity reflected in her emerald eyes when she stops and meets my gaze. My fists tighten at my sides, but I force my next words to come out steady.
“Tell me everything.”