Wicked Savage: Chapter 34

I walk into Tynan’s house right on time, greeted by the whole family.

Gio and Iseult; my youngest sister, Eriu, with her husband, Devlin; Tynan and his family—they’re all gathered around the living room. The noise and movement are familiar, but tonight, everything feels heavier.

Brody, Tynan’s oldest, pulls me into a quick hug before his four-year-old sister, Adora, charges toward me. Her tiny arms stretch out, eager for attention.

I scoop her up, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi!” She grins, her hazel eyes sparkling. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, she asks, “Uncle Cillian, do you have a girlfriend?”

I freeze. And just like that, the interrogation begins.

“I don’t,” I say, keeping it simple, hoping that’ll be the end of it.

“Why?” Her brows knit. “You’re so old. You need a girlfriend. Or a wife,” she adds thoughtfully.

Well, that doesn’t make me feel ancient at all…

“Adora!” Brody scolds just as Fionn walks in with a grin plastered across his face.

“He sort of has a girlfriend. He’s in love with someone, but refuses to admit it. Isn’t that right?”

I shoot him a death glare. “Don’t listen to Uncle Fionn.”

“I always listen to him.” She lifts her chin proudly. “He’s smart.”

“See? Smart.” Fionn taps his temple, looking far too pleased with himself.

“You’re lucky the kid’s here.” I elbow him, and she giggles when he fakes a dramatic collapse.

It’s all lighthearted, but beneath it, tension coils tight in my chest, wrapping around the truth I’ve never said aloud.

Love. I never admitted it, never dared to name it. But what I feel for her…it’s more than that. Like the word itself isn’t enough to contain the depth of what she means to me.

And I wonder if it’s too late to tell her.

Dinner is served, conversation flowing easily, laughter filling the space. For a while, it feels normal. Until my father’s voice slices through the noise, shattering the illusion.

“So, son…” His eyes fix on me from across the table. “When are you going to settle down like the rest of your brothers and sisters?”

Here it comes. The question that’s been asked a thousand times before.

“Now that the love of his life is back, I’m sure it’ll be any day now,” Iseult throws in, a teasing smile curling on her lips.

Of course. Fionn told her.

Gio’s head snaps between the two of us, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Wait, who are we talking about?”

“You know, that Marinov girl. Dinara,” Iseult says with a knowing look.

“Oh…” Gio nods, then takes a long sip of his drink.

My father’s face contorts, a flicker of hatred darkening his features.

“A Marinov?” he mutters, almost choking on the words.

Fernanda, his wife and Gio’s mother, rests a soothing hand on his shoulder.

“You can’t marry a Marinov.” His words are thick with the heaviness of the past.

“I’m not marrying anyone, Dad. Let it go.” I try to keep my tone neutral. “Dinara and I are in the past.”

Or more like she wants nothing to do with me anymore while I’m still obsessed.

“Then why the hell did I see you with your tongue down her throat?” Fionn laughs, a low, teasing sound.

“Children are present!” Tynan’s wife, Elara, scolds, covering their daughter’s ears.

“Uncle Cillian, how do you put your tongue into someone’s throat? Do you have a very long tongue?”

The entire table erupts in laughter, and I slam a hand over my face. This is not happening.

Adora’s voice slices through the laughter. “I wanna meet her. I bet she’s pretty.” Her eyes widen. “Can we do a tea party together?”

Great. Now a kid is planning my future too.

“Probably not, sweetheart,” I tell her gently. “She’s not gonna wanna have a tea party with me.”

She pouts, clearly disappointed. “But how do you know if you don’t ask her?”

“Oh, don’t go breaking her heart,” Elara says lightly.

I release a sigh. “Seems like that’s what I’m good at with the whole female population.”

She laughs. “Well, we’re a forgiving bunch, if you play your cards right.”

“Speak for yourself,” Iseult intercepts, arching a brow. “I hold a grudge.”

“You’ll like Dinara, then,” I grumble, half to myself.

“I think I would.” Her grin widens. “I should introduce myself next time I see her. Maybe teach her a few ways to really get under your skin.”

“Don’t worry, she already knows just how to do that,” I tell her, the sting of it all still fresh in my chest.

My father interrupts before I can think of anything else to say. “You don’t need some Marinov. I’ll find you a fine woman, someone who isn’t tied to that family.” His Irish brogue grows with irritation and his jaw tightens.

“You have to let it go, Dad,” Iseult says, calm but firm. “You both do.” She looks between my father and me. “Nothing will bring Mom back. Being angry at a woman who didn’t do anything to us isn’t going to help anyone. Yes, Sergey was a son of a…but he’s gone. I made sure of that,” she adds, her jaw setting. “We have to let this go or it will eat us alive.”

I know she’s right. Back then, I wouldn’t have listened. But now, with a clearer mind and all the years I’ve spent without the one woman I’ve desperately wanted, I’m able to.

“Fine.” My father throws his hands in the air. “Maybe you’re right.” He sucks in a deep breath, his shoulders sagging with resignation as he returns his attention to me. “As long as she makes you happy, son, you do what you want with this girl. Marry her, don’t marry her. But just give me some grandkids, will ya?” He looks at Eriu and Iseult. “All of you.”

Tynan is the only one with kids so far, and Dad’s taken well to the role of grandpa.

Iseult smiles at him, her expression softening.

The rest of the dinner is mercifully uneventful, the tension easing into small talk and laughter. But I can’t shake the weight of the questions that linger.

I wonder, for the hundredth time, if it’s even possible to move forward with Dinara. To build a future together, the one I’ve wanted since the moment we first met. To take all this—our families, our past, the ghosts that haunt us—and somehow make it our own.

But I know the truth: it’s not just about what I want. It’s about whether she’s willing to take the chance and forgive me.

Two days.

Two days since I saw him with her. Since jealousy clawed its way through me, sharp and relentless.

Seeing him again was hard. Seeing him with someone else? Unbearable.

Because no matter how much time passes, he still has this hold on me. This power to drag me back in, to make me forget everything except how it feels to be his.

But none of it matters. Him with someone else is irrelevant. It doesn’t change the truth: we can never go back. I can’t trust him. Not after everything.

What happened in that bathroom? That was a mistake. Nothing more. One I won’t make again.

My heels hit the floor with a sigh of relief as I kick them off, the exhaustion of the day pulling at me.

Today, I asked Konstantin to teach me more about how he runs his legitimate businesses, and he was more than happy to oblige. He owns an investment firm, along with many other businesses, including a portfolio of high-end hotels and casinos across the globe. He’s sharp, calculated, and he knows exactly what he’s doing. I wanted to learn from him, to understand how a mind like his operates. Maybe even build something of my own one day.

Thankfully, he didn’t mention Cillian. Nor did I. I’m sure he realizes just as I do that Cillian and I have no future.

Rushing upstairs, I’m already thinking of the relief a hot shower will bring. But when I push open my door, I freeze. My hand tightens around the doorframe, legs unsteady, breath catching in my throat.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

There, in my room, standing like he owns the place, is Cillian. His presence fills the space—tall, broad, imposing. It’s like he’s carved from stone, the same fire in his eyes. The fire that’s never gone out.

“You live at Konstantin’s again?” His voice holds that cocky edge, like he’s suddenly entitled to know everything.

The shock of seeing him here hits harder than I expected, but I force myself not to show it.

“For now. Not that I owe you an explanation. Now get out.”

“Not until we talk.”

I roll my eyes, the frustration bubbling up. “I’ve got nothing to say to you. Go back to your girlfriend, or whatever she is.”

“Lucia?” He laughs like I’ve just told a joke. “We’re not together. I just met her that night. We only walked in together.”

My eyes widen for a quick second, and the smirk he’s wearing is cocky as hell.

He takes a step forward. “But I told her there was only ever one woman for me.”

Before I can even process what he said, he’s marching closer, forcing me back against the door. His body presses against mine, and I can’t escape the intensity of it. Of him. The air between us crackles with that same tension—the kind that’s always been there, threatening to break everything apart again.

“Adriano told me you’re not with him either,” he murmurs, his heat seeping into my skin. “Were you trying to make me jealous?”

“It doesn’t matter.” I hike up my chin. “I don’t care if you’re with her or not.”

His laugh—that damn husky laugh—shakes me to the core.

“Yes you do, baby.” His mouth grazes my ear, and I shiver from the warmth of it. “It drives you crazy, doesn’t it?” he whispers. “To know you still want me?” His hand slides over my hip, then lower until his fingers caress up my inner thigh. “Because it drove me insane with jealousy thinking that you were with Adriano in Italy all those years.”

My body betrays me. I try to laugh, to distance myself, but it’s impossible when he’s this near. His hand is on my throat, his grip tightening as he stares at me, eyes dark with something deeper than anger.

“None of this changes anything,” I force out with enough edge to sound like I mean it. “We’re done. You mean nothing to me anymore.”

The words feel hollow.

His grip tightens. “I called you.” His tone comes out strained and raw, desperation cutting through each sound. “When you disappeared. I called, searched for you everywhere…but I couldn’t find you. Fuck, Dinara, I wanted to find you.”

Why?

His confession makes my pulse flutter.

“I had a new number.” My mouth tips up.

His jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing as if he’s piecing together something that will never fit anymore.

“Why did you look for me?”

“Because I wanted…” His gaze locks on to mine, fierce and vulnerable all at once. “I wanted to try.”

His words hit me like a slap, cold and disorienting. I laugh—a sharp, empty sound—and shake my head.

“You wanted to try?” My hands push him back, forcing him to step away, every ounce of hurt flooding back. “You broke my heart—not once, but twice—and now you think you can waltz back in and tell me you want to try?” The anger surges, sharp and unforgiving. “It’s too late for that, Cillian.”

I swallow, fighting the lump in my throat that threatens to choke me. I can never trust him. He could turn around at any moment, change his mind, and let what my family did crush him all over again. And when that happens, I’ll be left picking up the pieces of a heart that’s already been shattered beyond repair.

Straightening my skirt, I meet his gaze one last time. “You wanna fuck, we’ll fuck. You’re good at it.” My lips twitch. “But that’s all you’re ever gonna get from me.”

The fire in his eyes flares and the tension thickens again, swirling around us like a storm on the verge of breaking.

But it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter.

I can’t look at him anymore. Can’t let myself believe in his promises. All we have is the wreckage of what we were, and I can’t keep picking up the pieces. Not anymore.

My palm clasps his cheek, his jaw clenching beneath my touch. “I’m done with you, Cillian. Whatever we had, it’s over.”

The hardness in his eyes shifts to something that resembles pain.

I should stay. I should say something, anything, to make him hurt less.

But I don’t. I’ve already learned how to live without him.