Chapter 11 - The Devil’s Counterattack
Three weeks had passed since the night at the Dublin docks.
The safe house in Galway was a secluded stone cottage,
nestled on the edge of a rugged cliff overlooking the Atlantic.
The air here was clean,
sharp,
and filled with the scent of wild heather and salt water.
Inside,
a warm fire crackled in the hearth,
casting a cozy glow over the stone walls.
For the past twenty-one days,
Killian and I had worked in silence,
planning our return to the capital.
The black ledger lay open on the heavy wooden dining table,
its pages filled with names,
numbers,
and secrets.
Finn had arrived a week ago,
bringing news from the front lines of the Dublin underworld.
“Salvatore has taken over the docks,”
Finn explained,
pointing to a map spread across the table.
“The Callahans are backing him,
but their alliance is fragile.”
“They are arguing over the distribution of the smuggling routes.”
Killian smiled,
a cold,
predatory look in his eyes.
“Greed is a terrible thing,”
he murmured.
“It makes men careless.”
“We strike them when they are divided,”
I suggested,
leaning over the map.
“The Callahans are hosting a private charity gala at the museum this Saturday.”
“All the major players will be there,
including Salvatore.”
Killian looked up at me,
his eyes filled with admiration.
“An elegant target,”
he noted.
“They will not expect us to strike in a room full of Dublin’s elite.”
“They think we are hiding in fear,”
I said.
“They think the devil is dead.”
“We will show them that the devil was merely planning his revenge,”
Killian said,
his voice low and steady.
He stood up,
walking over to a wooden cabinet.
He pulled out a stunning emerald-green silk dress,
holding it up against the firelight.
“You will need something appropriate for the gala,
Norah,”
he said,
handing the dress to me.
“No more black aprons.”
“No more hiding in the wallpaper.”
I took the soft fabric,
feeling the expensive weight of the silk.
“You want me to walk in through the front door?”
I asked.
“I want you to walk in by my side,”
he replied,
his gaze locked on mine.
“As my equal.”
I looked at the dress,
then at the man who had once ignored my existence.
The transformation was complete.
May you like
We were no longer master and servant.
We were partners in a dangerous dance.
