Wicked Savage: Chapter 13

“Where are we going now?” I ask, the curiosity practically eating me alive as I walk beside Cillian, still reeling from our spontaneous lunch date in Little Italy.

“You’ll see.” A tiny, dangerous smirk pulls at the corner of his lips.

His smile is infectious, like a secret only he and I share, and it makes my pulse race in a way I’m trying to ignore. I squeeze his hand a little tighter as we continue down the street.

The throbbing between my thighs reminds me of what we did earlier and how fun it was to be taken like that—roughly and possessively.

“So, where are we actually going, though?” I ask again, my tone teasing, but I can’t help it. The man has a way of keeping me on my toes.

“Patience, love,” he teases, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand as he looks at me with that same playful gleam in his eyes. “I’m not giving it away just yet.”

When we stop in front of a jewelry store, I arch a brow, instantly suspicious.

“Uh, what’s this about?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not proposing. Yet…” He gives me a look that’s half smirk.

I blink, trying to hide the way a rush of heat floods my chest at the thought.

Wait…

Did he just say yet? He’s messing with me, right? We’ve known each other for about five minutes.

“I wasn’t thinking that.” I roll my eyes, amusement playing on my features even with the little flutter in my chest.

“Mm-hmm.” That smirk grows wider as he tugs me toward the door. “Come on, love.”

My bodyguards wait outside as we step in, and a little bell rings, drawing the attention of an older man from behind a glass counter.

“Mr. Quinn, welcome. Your piece is ready.”

“Thank you,” Cillian says smoothly, but then adds with a little squeeze of my hand, “This is my girlfriend, Dinara.”

Girlfriend. He called me his girlfriend.

My stomach does a flip. He didn’t just say my name; he declared me as his.

The man gives a polite nod. “It’s a pleasure.”

He turns, disappearing behind the counter, and when he returns, he’s holding a long blue box. A surge of excitement rushes through me.

What the hell is that?

Leaning in closer, I try to get a glimpse.

Cillian catches my eye, his gaze filled with affection. He opens the box slowly, and I suck in a breath. A delicate tennis bracelet glints up at me, sparkling under the dim lights of the shop.

“This is for you.” His voice is low and warm as he lifts the bracelet, holding it with care like it’s something precious.

My heart skips. It’s not the bracelet itself that’s the most overwhelming thing—it’s the fact that he got it for me.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathe.

“I’m glad you like it.” Warmth shines in his eyes. “I added something to the back.”

I glance at him, and then at the little lens he hands me to inspect the inscription. The words are simple, but they hit me like a freight train: Those who don’t take risks don’t drink champagne.

I laugh, the sound a little shaky, but genuine. I can’t help it.

I beam up at him as the man steps back to give us space. “This is so sweet. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He slides the bracelet onto my wrist, his fingers brushing my skin, and I feel a tug in my chest.

“My mom would’ve liked you,” he says softly, his words almost too quiet for anyone else to hear.

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat thickening. “My mother would’ve liked you too.”

He drags me closer, his arms enveloping me like I’m the most important thing in the world. Our bodies press together, and I find myself rising on my toes to kiss him. It’s gentle at first, before it grows more urgent, full of everything unspoken between us.

And in this instant, I know with every fiber of my being that we’re destined for something. Something real.

We’re not just two people playing pretend. We’re exactly where we’re meant to be.

I can’t believe I’m back home after the best weekend ever. Cillian took me to a Broadway show like he promised, and we did all the classic touristy things: sights, sounds, even the cheesy souvenirs. I don’t think I’ve laughed that much in forever.

And the best part? He got gifts for Gregory and Tatiana. Didn’t even need to, but he did.

As I pull into Konstantin’s driveway and make my way up the steps, the door swings open before I even have a chance to knock.

Ludmilla stands there, a warm smile already in place. “Moya milaya, I missed you!” She wraps me in a hug, squeezing me like she’s trying to put all of her affection into one greeting. Then she jerks back, her eyes scanning me. “Are you eating? You look too skinny.”

I can’t help but laugh at her. “I’m fine, Ludmilla.”

“What you mean, fine? You’re young woman. One day you have kids! You need strong hips.” She smacks her own, giving me a proud grin. “I have six kids with these hips. I know what I say. Come, I made borscht for lunch. You have some.”

“I’m not really that hungry.”

“What you mean, not hungry?” She hits me with an agitated glower.

Letting out a full laugh, I throw my arm around her. “Okay, okay, you win. I’ll eat your borscht.”

“Good.” She leads me toward the kitchen, where the smell of her cooking is already in the air.

Even though Konstantin has a full-time chef, Ludmilla still insists on making her special meals. It’s how she takes care of all of us.

“Din!” Tatiana rushes in, with Gregory right behind her. She wraps me in a tight squeeze, then pulls back with wide eyes. “How was New York?”

“It was great.” I hold up a bag, which immediately grabs both their attention.

“What’s inside?” Gregory asks, trying to sneak a peek.

Ludmilla slaps his hand away with a laugh. “Let your sister eat! You see she’s turning into skeleton. You come live here again so I can feed you.”

Tatiana’s face lights up, but she knows it’s not happening. Konstantin’s decisions are final. And besides, I’ve grown to love having a place of my own. It’s the kind of independence I’ve never had, even with Konstantin’s men on guard.

I turn to Ludmilla, hoping to distract her. “Can you warm the borscht for me, please?” I give my sister a knowing wink, then quickly open the bag. “Cillian got you both gifts.”

“Ooh!” Tatiana eagerly waits as I pull out a small jewelry box and a remote-control car.

I give the car to Gregory, who’s already jumping with excitement.

“Can you open it?” he asks eagerly.

“Of course.” I kiss the top of his head. “And this is for you.” I extend the small box to Tatiana.

Her eyes widen as she opens it, revealing a delicate white gold tennis bracelet.

“Oh my gosh, I love it. Tell him thank you!” She can’t stop staring at it.

“I will.” I slip the bracelet onto her wrist, tightening it a little. “It’s perfect on you. Stand next to Gregory and I’ll take a picture.”

They both grin as I snap a photo, sending it off to Cillian. A minute later, my phone buzzes with his reply.

I’d mentioned that I had my own place, so why not have him over?

I smile as I stare at the screen, but before I can reply, Tatiana’s voice pulls me in.

“My God, do you hear anyone when you talk to lover boy?”

“Shut up!” I shove her playfully, and she giggles, throwing an arm around me.

Meanwhile, Gregory has already zoomed off to play with his new toy.

“Okay, davay, eat,” Ludmilla calls. “It’s probably cold now.”

I glance at Tatiana with a playful grimace as I start for the chair. She bites her lip, fighting a laugh.

“Where’s Konstantin?” I settle onto one of the stools, while my sister takes the seat next to me.

“He’s in his office with Aleksei. I don’t know what they’re doing,” she explains.

I nod, taking a deep breath. I haven’t spoken to him since I returned from New York, but I’m sure Boris has already given him the full rundown. Hopefully, he continues to accept my relationship with Cillian.

Maybe it’ll be that easy. Maybe I can be with this guy even though he’s not part of our world. The biggest hurdle will be him accepting me. It’s one thing to know the Mafia exists and another thing to date someone who’s a part of it. But I can’t change who I am. I hope Cillian likes me enough to appreciate that.

I’m almost finished with my borscht when I register footsteps approaching. When Konstantin walks in, his small grin greets me like a punch of familiarity.

“There she is. Privet, dorogaya.” He pulls me into a hug as I get up. “When you’re done, I’d like to have a talk with you.”

A knot forms in my stomach. “Uh, sure. I’m done.”

What could this be about? Is it about my father? Or maybe something to do with Cillian? My mind races with the possibilities.

“Come to my office. We talk there, yes?” Konstantin gestures.

I nod, trying to mask my nerves. As we walk across the house, I glance back at Tatiana, but she’s already lost in her own thoughts.

Glancing at me, he furrows his brows before he laughs. “Are you scared? Because you look scared.”

“Uh, no, of course not.” My voice trembles, giving me away.

“I promise there is no dead body in my office. Okay? I already gave it to the pigs.” His laughter grows, but I’m not laughing.

Because he does have pigs. Big, black Calabrian pigs—and if the rumors I’ve heard are true, he does feed human body parts to them.

A shiver runs down my arms at the imagery.

When we reach Konstantin’s office, Aleksei’s already there, holding a crystal glass filled with clear liquid. He nods in greeting, his usual stoic expression in place.

“Oh, you’re here too?” I say, trying to ignore the tension that suddenly fills the air.

“Sit. We must talk.” Konstantin shuts the door behind him with a loud bang.

I settle beside Aleksei, my foot bouncing nervously.

Aleksei lets out a small snicker. “I promise no dead bodies hiding in the closet.”

“I already told her that.” Konstantin chuckles as he makes his way to the bar.

“Want a drink?” he asks.

I shake my head quickly. “No, thank you.”

He pours himself one and lowers down into his chair with a sigh. I can feel my stomach turn.

“So, how is everything with you and Cillian Quinn?” His tone is casual, but his eyes are sharp. “You had a good weekend?”

My heart skips. “Yes, I did.” I force a smile, glancing between them both. “He’s a great guy.”

Aleksei gives Konstantin a look—a silent conversation between them. The tension in the air thickens.

“Did he tell you about his mother?” Konstantin asks. “Or about his family at all?”

I frown, confused. “Uh, no… Only that she died.” I pause. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“It’s how she died that’s the problem.” Konstantin drains his glass, setting it down with a loud clink.

“What does that mean?” I gulp down the lump in my throat.

His jaw tightens, his gaze locking with mine. My stomach twists.

“I wasn’t forthcoming when I found out about you and him.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, barely able to breathe, the chill of his words settling deep within me.

Aleksei cuts in, his voice icy. “Our father killed her.”

A bone-deep shiver races through me, as though hitting me from every side.

“What?” I can barely whisper, my head spinning. “I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

Konstantin throws his hands up. “Nu ti dalbayop.” You’re a dumbass. “I was going to ease her into this.”

“You take too long,” Aleksei mutters, arms crossed.

I’m struggling to take in enough air. “What the hell is going on?”

Konstantin leans in. “Let me explain. You see, Cillian is Irish Mob and⁠—”

“WHAT?! Oh my God, and you didn’t say anything? Especially after I told you about him! What the hell?”

“I know, I know. You’re pissed.” He dismisses my anger with a wave of his hand. “But I had reasons, and now you know them.” He offers me a half-smile. “I’ll tell you everything. Just don’t interrupt me this time, understand?”

I nod, my anger rising. While I was questioning whether Cillian even had ties to our world, Konstantin knew exactly who he was and kept it from me. And then there’s the part about his mother. What the hell do I even do with that?

“Cillian’s mother…” Konstantin continues. “She wasn’t just killed. She was burned alive, and he sent them a video of it, just to make it hurt more.”

I slap my hand over my mouth, trying to steady myself as the shock hits.

“His father and mine were at war. A detente was reached, but Cillian…he’s not a fan of ours still. And if he finds out you’re a Marinov, it’s going to be a problem.”

Tears sting at the back of my eyes. “But I…I didn’t kill his mother.”

“I don’t think that will matter to him.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “But you need to tell him. Before he finds out on his own.”

“He hates us. He’ll never stay with you if he knows you’re a Marinov.” Aleksei’s harsh words slice through the tension.

A tight knot forms in my throat. “No, he likes me. He wouldn’t just dump me because of that.”

Would he?

I stare at them both, but no comfort comes.

Konstantin leans back in his chair. “You must tell him, Dinara, or it will be worse.”

The air is thick with dread. I don’t know what to do, but I can’t let him go. Cillian’s perfect. He’ll have to understand.

“I’ll tell him,” I whisper. “This weekend. I’ll make him understand.”

“Good,” Konstantin says. “Now go. Have fun with your brother and sister. We have business to discuss.”

I stand, trying to hold it together as I walk out of the office.

As soon as I’m out, emotions hit me all at once.

Every memory.

Every laugh.

Every second I’ve spent with Cillian in this short time rushes through my mind like a movie.

And as the weight of this new information presses down on me, I know one thing for sure: nothing will be the same once Cillian finds out.