Page 106 of His Forced Irish Mafia Bride

I didn’t move for a moment after Maeve went quiet.

Father Michael was still sitting there, trying to hold his usual calm. But it looked like a mask now, not control.

I watched him take in the room, then me, then Maeve, with careful eyes, like he was still checking for openings. There weren’t any. I picked up my phone and made a call.

My voice stayed even. “No one enters or leaves the building without my approval.” I waited for confirmation, then ended the call and set the phone down.

Father Michael shifted slightly in his seat. He understood what had just changed. I looked at him directly.

“You’re done here,” I said.

He tried to respond. “Sean—”

I cut him off. “No.”

“This isn’t—”

I slid a closed folder across the table and placed it in front of him. “You built influence through access,” I said. “That access is gone.”

His eyes dropped to the folder. I kept going.

“Your contacts are closed. Your channels are shut down. Your name no longer means anything in this world.”

Real understanding washed over him, the kind that came when someone realized they’d been cut out completely. Maeve stayed silent beside me, but I could feel her attention on us. Father Michael straightened slightly in his chair.

“You think removing me changes anything?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

He leaned forward a little. “You’re making a mistake.”

I stood up slowly.

“No,” I said. “I’m correcting one.”

I walked around the table and stopped in front of him.

“You were never the authority in this room,” I said. “You only acted like it.”

His expression changed slightly at that, just for a moment. I continued.

“You no longer have access to Maeve. You no longer have access to me. And you no longer have access to anything connected to me.”

Father Michael spoke again, slower. “You can’t erase me.”

I nodded once. “I’m not erasing you,” I said. “I’m removing you completely.”

I turned and pointed toward the door. He looked at me for a long time, searching for a way to hold on to something. There wasn’t anything left for him to hold. He stood up. It was a slow, heavy movement, like it cost him something.

Maeve stayed quiet while he walked to the door. He stopped once before leaving, like he expected someone to call him back. No one did. He left, and the elevator doors closed. The room stayed still after that.

***

It wasn’t mercy. Mercy meant something in him still deserved saving, and there was nothing left to save.

Father Michael was finished the moment the truth came out. I’d removed him from access and influence, from anything tied to my name or my world. For him, that would be worse than death.

The silence after he left felt full, not empty. I looked back at the table. I’d dealt with betrayal before.