"And Brennan?" Liam asks.
“I broke his neck. Left his body in the warehouse. It might still be there."
Connor nods slowly, his fingers steepled under his chin. "The warehouse was clean?"
"Clean enough. Nothing that traces back to the Council or to me specifically. Just another dead politician who got involved with the wrong people. Brennan had plenty of enemies. Could have been anyone."
Brendan snorts. "Convenient."
Connor is quiet for a long moment, studying me with those cold eyes. I hold his gaze, waiting. This is the moment where he decides whether I've redeemed myself or whether I'm still a liability.
"You understand," Connor finally says, "that Brennan was a problem we'd been trying to solve for some time."
I nod. "I know."
"Your failure to eliminate him the first time was... disappointing. It raised questions about your reliability, your effectiveness. Questions we don't like having to ask about our best enforcer."
I say nothing. I know he doesn’t care about my reasons or my personal morality. We’ve had this conversation before, and I know my input is not needed. He’s warming up to something, and I just have to wait for it.
"But this…" Connor gestures vaguely. "This resolves those questions. Brennan is dead, and the circumstances of his death make it clear what happens to people who threaten what's ours."
Brendan leans back in his chair, that smirk still on his face. "So the failed assassin redeems himself by playing the devoted husband to the wife we gave him. How touching."
I look at him, and something in my expression makes his smirk falter. "She's my wife," I say quietly. "He took her. He hurt her. What did you think I was going to do?"
"Easy, Sean." Connor's voice has a hint of amusement in it. "Brendan's just jealous. His own wife can't stand him."
Brendan's face flushes, but he doesn't respond.
Connor stands, which means the meeting is over. "You're back in our good graces, Sean. The matter of your failure is forgotten. Continue as you were. Take Maeve home, and focus on the estate. We’ll let you know when we need you again."
This is it. This is the moment. I'm back in their favor, which means I have leverage again. I could ask for the divorce now. They'd probably grant it. The marriage was a punishment, and now that I've redeemed myself, there’s a good chance they’d let me out of it. Find someone else to keep Maeve’s property in their control, someone more suited to the task.
All I have to do is ask.
The words stick in my throat.
"Was there something else?" Connor asks, watching me.
I think about Maeve sleeping in my—our—bed where I left her, her hair spread across the pillow. I think about the way she looked at me the last time she was in my arms, the sound of my name on her lips.
I think about going home to an empty apartment, to a life without her in it. Never seeing her again, holding her again. Giving her away to someone else, someone who might not care for her at all.
I don’t know that I won’t fuck this up. But I do know what I feel for her, at last.
"No," I hear myself say. "Nothing else."
Connor nods. "Then we're done here. Liam will see you out."
I follow Liam back down the stairs, through the entrance hall, to the front door. He pauses before opening it, studying me with those sharp eyes.
“I thought you might ask for a divorce.” His tone is flat; it’s impossible to tell if he’s baiting me or if he’s actually just expressing a curious thought.
It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "No. I didn’t."
"Why not?" Now he does seem genuinely curious. I pause, wondering if I should be honest.
I finally decide that I might as well. "Because I don't want one," I say.
