I gasp quietly.
"I didn't leave because it didn't matter," he says. "I left because it mattered too much. You got under my skin. I can't think. I can't breathe right. You've fucked up everything in me that was neat and controlled, and I don't know what to do about it."
My heart hammers against my ribs. I open my mouth to respond, tell him to join the club because that's how I'm feeling, when another voice cuts in.
"Excuse me."
We both turn, and a woman steps forward, elegant and polished. She's wearing a fitted black pantsuit, and her blonde hair is pulled back in a tightly combed ponytail.
Her smile is anything but warm.
"Keira Killaney?" she says. "I'm Elizabeth Carter, new Director of Outreach for Shadowharbor."
I shift automatically into public mode, though my pulse is still racing from Octavian's confession. "Yes, hi," I extend my hand. "Pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise," she says, shaking my hand. "I've heard amazing things about your foundation. The Killaney Family Trust is doing really meaningful work."
"Thank you. We always try to give back."
Octavian's hand wraps around my waist, and Elizabeth's eyes flick to him briefly, then back to me.
"I think you'll find our upcoming initiatives will really help define the city," she says, and something about the way she says it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
I nod politely, keeping my expression neutral. "Well, we're always here to help."
Her smile widens, but it doesn't reach her eyes. It's like a snake trying on a human face, mimicking emotion without understanding it.
She leans in slightly, dropping her voice. "We really are building something beautiful, Ms. Killaney. For the true sons and daughters of Boston."
My smile falters.
True sons and daughters. The phrasing is deliberate, almost accusatory. Like the Killaneys, Irish immigrants who clawed their way to power, don't count because our methods were different. Like my line hasn't bled for this city.
I go stiff, and Octavian must sense it as his hand presses harder against my waist like he's afraid I'm going to charge her.
"As a matter of fact," Elizabeth continues, "why don't I show you something? We have a private exhibit upstairs. Very exclusive. I think you'll find it enlightening."
Every instinct I have screams danger. This is a trap. This is exactly the kind of situation Callum and Declan warned me about.
But it's also exactly why I'm here.
I glance at Octavian, and he gives me the tiniest shake of his head.
I ignore it and turn back to Elizabeth.
"We'd love to," I say, smile bright and false. "Lead the way."
32
KEIRA
Elizabeth leads us away from the gala, her heels clicking against polished marble. We walk into a wide corridor lined with gilded mirrors, and I glance back once, watching the ballroom doors shrink behind us. The sound of laughter and music grows fainter with every step.
We pass through a door and descend a narrow, curved stairwell. Behind me, Octavian moves silently, his presence a solid wall of heat at my back.
"Shadowharbor's private collection," she says over her shoulder, her voice crisp. "It's typically off-limits. But the Board felt it was time to showcase the legacy the fund has quietly preserved. Consider this a preview, reserved for our most trusted allies."
I'm wondering if they really are my allies,I think to myself.
