“Find out who set it up.Now. I want everything from footage to names. Someone’s trying to pull us into a war.”
“I’m already digging. But it’s clear they knew what they were doing.”
They sure as hell knew, and now the game has shifted, and I’m forced to play defense.
The sky isdark by the time I drop Kieran back in the city and make it back to the house. I expect to find Ciara in the lounge or even in the kitchen, but she’s not downstairs, and the place is eerily silent.
I take the stairs two at a time, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut as I head up to the bedroom.
“Ciara?” I push open the door.
She’s nestled under the covers, watching a film on her laptop. When she sees me, she glances up and tries to smile, but I can see the exhaustion in her eyes.
“Did you call the doctor?” I sit on the bed and press my hand to her forehead.
She’s not warm, which is good, but her skin lacks its usual pink undertone.
“No. I’m just tired.”
“Have you at least tried to eat something?” I glance at her nightstand and see an empty mug of tea but nothing else.
When I look back at Ciara, she nods but doesn’t meet my eyes.
Liar.
“You need food. I’ll make you toast.”
For once, she doesn’t argue, which I take as a good sign.
When I return a few minutes later with a plate of buttered toast, Ciara’s already asleep.
I let out a sigh as I set the food down on the nightstand.
Her film is still playing, but I switch off the laptop so it doesn’t wake her.
For a moment, I stand beside the bed, watching her sleep.
Even when she’s pale and sick, she’s still the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Her fiery nature drew me in, and I’ve been at her mercy ever since. But now, as she sleeps peacefully, the fire has burned out, leaving a youthful innocence in its wake.
I can’t believe that this woman is mine, yet something gnaws at me as I watch her.
There’s something she’s not telling me. I’ve felt it building for days, and I suspect it’s not just about her being sick.
I slip out of the room and almost run into Stephen, who is stepping out of the upstairs study converted into a surveillance room.
He straightens when he sees me, his face looking like it’s been carved from stone. “It’s all quiet, sir.”
“Good.”
I think of Ciara sleeping soundly just a few feet away, and that gnawing feeling returns when I look back at Stephen.
“How has she been today?” I step away from the bedroom door so as not to wake Ciara.
“Tired.”
“Is that all?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
