Page 47 of The Hunter's Empire

I glance briefly at Domenico. He gives the slightest nod.Play along.

I offer Sean a polite smile. "It is nice to meet you as well."

Sean greets me warmly before stepping back.

"Come on." He says. "Darragh has been asking when you two would arrive."

The words settle heavily in my chest. Notyou. Butyou two.The cover has already begun.

A few minutes later, we climb into the waiting SUV. Sean takes the driver's seat. Domenico settles into the passenger seat beside him. I sit in the back, watching rain streak across the darkened windows as the vehicle disappears into the Irish countryside.

The conversation between the two men flows naturally. And with every passing mile, one thought continues circling through my mind.

I came to Ireland with Domenico Valenti. But the man sitting in front of me seems to belong here as Lucien Moreau.

The Keegan estate appears through the trees nearly twenty minutes later.

For a moment, nobody speaks.

The manor rises from the edge of a dark lake like something pulled from another century. Massive stone walls stretch across the shoreline, illuminated by warm golden lights that reflect across black water. Ancient battlements crown the structure, while ivy crawls across weathered stone that has likely stood there for generations.

It is beautiful. And deeply unsettling.

I have spent my entire life surrounded by wealth. Private islands. Penthouse towers. Historic villas. None of them feel like this. This place does not flaunt its money. It flaunts permanence. The kind of power that survives governments.

The SUV rolls through iron gates large enough to admit military vehicles. Ahead, the manor grows larger with every passing second.

In front of me, Domenico remains completely relaxed. As if arriving here is no different than checking into a hotel.

The vehicle eventually stops beneath a covered stone entrance. The moment we step outside, security closes in. Not aggressively. But professionally.

Two men approach immediately while a third waits nearby holding a scanner.

Nobody smiles. Nobody wastes words. And the process begins without explanation.

They scan me first. Nothing.

Then they move to Domenico. A sharp electronic tone cuts through the night. The scanner flashes. And every security guard becomes noticeably more alert.

Instinctively, my attention snaps toward Domenico. He doesn't move. Doesn't tense. Doesn't even look surprised.

"Left arm." One of the guards says.

Without argument, Domenico rolls up his sleeve. A small medical device sits attached beneath the fabric. The guard studies it briefly before nodding.

"Glucose monitor."

"Correct."

The scan continues.

I stare at the device for a second longer than necessary. I had no idea. For the first time since meeting him, I realize there are still things about Domenico that genuinely surprise me.

The thought lingers as security finally steps aside. "Clear."

And we are finally allowed inside.

The interior of the manor is somehow even more impressive than the exterior. Stone archways. Dark wood. Portraits older than entire countries. Everything feels expensive. Everything feels watched.