Chapter 3

While putting the finishing touches on Nessa's favorite dish, I hear the sound of an engine I know all too well.

A smile grows on my face, one that seems unable to leave anytime she is near. Even just the sound of her car pulling up to our home has this full feeling growing in my heart.

I truly believed the universe was against me at every turn. Losing my wife was hard; but having to care for my son, who's eyes were mirrors of hers, was the hardest.

I had a few relationships prior to my sweet little fox coming along, but none of them really ever felt right.

In the beginning, our relationship was strange and felt forbidden. She is twenty-four to my fifty-two. The same age as my son and his wife. She also just so happens to be one of their very few friends.

As time went on though, age became just a number. Now we have a home together. For the first time in a long time, I feel happy and content. Peaceful.

Well, as peaceful as a retired mafia don who still lives a vast life of crime can get, that is.

I plate up the Irish stew and homemade soda bread that my son may or may not have assisted in making as I hear the front door open. Normally, she would come right into the kitchen, so I pause when I hear a male voice with her.

"So this is the old man's place?"

My teeth grind together as I set the plates and bowls on the island and walk towards the foyer. I have half a mind to grab my gun and aim it at the ignorant bastard who thought he could call me old. Only one person can call me that.

Instead of hearing her voice, I hear the muffled sound of her hitting him in the gut, so I decide against the gun option. I am no longer the king to the Russian mafia, after all. I handed down that position to my son and his two friends. I still help them with investors and manage part of the business side of things, but it's no longer my main focus. Nessa is. And in this house, I am just me.

Rounding the corner, a tall pale man with tattoos up to his neck looks up at my one-of-a-kind Carlo Nason glass chandelier, puzzled. He should be too, the priceless piece of art is rare and not easily afforded.

Nessa watches him with furrowed brows, but not alarm. Instead of giving him any attention, I walk right up to my little fox and steal a breathtaking kiss. She was only gone for a day and a half, but it was too long.

"I am coming with you next time," I tell her as I pull back.

Her arms tangle around my neck, and she smiles at me, a unique gift very few are ever given.

"Alexi needed you." My son did need a hand with a few overseas investors who tried to play him dirty. I am glad I was here to help, but I think next time I will choose tailing marks with my woman.

"He is capable, I am sure of it. I would not have given him my position if I had doubts."

She giggles when a huff from our guest reminds me we are not alone. I do not allow my girl to go far as she untangles herself from me, but it does not take much to tuck her under my arm.

Her hand wraps around my back with a squeeze, as if to reassure me.

"Who is our guest, Little Fox?" I ask, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"He's…" her body seems to go stiff. "He's one of Evie's men. An ex-shade."

"I see." As I look him over, that begins to make more sense. The former Shades, an assassins league, had a lot of rebellious characters within their ranks, and this kid looks like one of them. "And why is he here?"

Nessa bites her lip and looks up at me.

"He's the one Evie sent me to look for. She asked if he could stay with us until she gets here to debrief the information we found tomorrow."

I nod, but it still feels like she is holding something back.

"Why do you seem bothered by this?"

If she is uncomfortable around him, I will gladly get him a hotel or find another open house he could stay at.

"Um…" she looks down, then over at the man. "This is… This is Cillian."

My head tilts to the side as I look at the kid in front of me, and all of the stories Nessa told me about her childhood love flood my mind, causing a lump to form in my throat.

"The kid you grew up with? The one you were supposed to marry?"

Part of my vision swims, having nothing to do with my age and everything to do with the information I was just given.

Did I really suffer for all of those years only to find a moment of peace so that the fucking universe could strip it right from under my nose?

The kid grins at me like he just won a prize. In all of my years of running the Russian mafia, torturing and killing people, I have never once felt as nauseous as I do right now, other than the day I lost my wife.

My worst enemy stares back at me before stepping forward, sticking out his hand in greeting while I stand here, unmoving.

"I'd say I'm not so much a kid anymore. But," he cracks his knuckles, then stretches his arms as if to show off how much he has grown up, "I think that is clear to everyone in the room."

Nessa's arm squeezes around me, and that feeling of reassurance sets back in.

Is she trying to reassure me or herself?

Before I can get too much in my head, soft lips brush my cheek. "Something smells delicious, my love."

My eyes close as Nessa's words take hold. I am still hers and she is still mine. Maybe the resurrection of her former love will just be another small bump in the road for us. We have faced worse.

"Alexi may have helped teach me to make your favorite, and I may have used my men to track down a very important soda bread recipe for you."

Nessa squeals, bouncing in my arms and erasing all of the doubt that tried to take over. I wrap myself around her, holding her close while Cillian glares at us. I shoot him an equally venomous look.

"I made enough for leftovers," I say. I don't really want the kid in my home, but if he is here, I might as well try to be civil for my girl.

Key word, try .

Cillian follows us to the kitchen, making sure to look at all of the luxury pieces of our home as if they personally offend him. I keep my head on straight though.

I did not build a mafia empire by reacting to little jabs from children, and I will not continue to earn the respect of my woman if I start now.

I keep my hand around Nessa's waist as we go, glancing back to see him staring at it. The lustful look in his eyes directed at my woman makes me want to gouge them out with a rusty spoon.

If he knows what is good for him, he will avert his gaze and quickly. I clear my throat to make it known I caught him. His head snaps up, but he gives me a sarcastic smirk as if he does not care that he was caught.

Asshole.

The aromas coming from the kitchen have Nessa bouncing on her heels the closer we get, fully turning my attention to her. She dives for the bread first and moans around the crunch of the crust.

"Did Alexi help you?" she asks, her mouth still full of food as I hold back a snort.

"He helped, but I was the one who made it."

She eyes me suspiciously, and I grin, taking a bite for myself. It is really good.

Guess I really am the best after all.

I walk around the island to get Cillian some food as he cuts a slice of bread for himself. He doesn't say anything as he eats though, simply watches Nessa like he has a question on the tip of his tongue.

"Here you go, Kid." I hand him a bowl and a plate.

It's obvious he despises being called a child, but I equally despise the fact that he rose from the dead and is currently sitting in my home.

"Let's eat on the couch," Nessa says eagerly. I know she is desperate to get to her spot on the couch and cuddle up. "I want to snuggle under a blanket and eat this stew with the fire on."

Cillian's brows pinch. "You have a fireplace inside the house?"

I nod, gesturing towards the room Nessa is heading for with her own food. "It is just a video of one, but it is attached to a heater. She picked it out."

He looks toward her then back at me, shaking his head.

"What?" I ask.

"Nessa hates fire."

Now I'm the confused one. "She has been to plenty of gatherings with our family that included a fire. Hell, she fought a war on an island surrounded by fire."

Cillian freezes. "Did she ever seem anxious about it?"

I think back to the moments we sat outside with my son and his wife along with her other husbands, cuddled up by the fire while talking.

"She always wants to be far away from it." The revelation hits me like a brick landing on my head.

She would climb into my lap and turn away from the flames. I figured she just wanted to be close, but I see it now.

Cillian starts walking again, and I fall into step beside him.

"What happened?"

He shakes his head. "Her father burned my parents alive on their property, forcing us to watch."

His voice is vastly different from the arrogant boy I witnessed just moments ago. His posture is much more somber. I knew Nessa's father killed Cillian's parents, but I never knew how.

"I am sorry."

He takes a deep breath as we walk into the room where Nessa is clicking on the red-colored fire setting and cuddling up under a blanket.

"That one's not on you, Old Man."

He rounds the couch, taking the spot next to Nessa, right where her feet are tucked under her. I take the other side, and she leans into me, humming with joy as she digs into the stew.

"This is better than my mother's," she says, her cheeks straining with joy.

"It reminds me of mine," Cillian says quietly, as if he didn't mean for us to hear.

???

Dinner was delicious. We clean up together in comfortable silence, righting the kitchen and packaging up leftovers. Nessa teaches me tricks to make the bread last longer. I take careful note of each one, even though I doubt that bread will last the next twelve hours based on the way she and Cillian have been eating it.

Snuggling back on the couch with a cup of herbal tea, Nessa leans into my side. Carefully, I pull her onto my lap, wrapping my arms around her. The comfort of her touch and having her home is everything I could ever need.

Cillian eyes me, but I just smirk at him, more than happy about our positions as Nessa fits an arm around my neck.

"I missed you," I whisper, pressing a light kiss to her cheek. They turn red instantly.

"I missed you more." Her nose brushes mine slightly before she sighs and stretches out her feet, bumping Cillian's leg in the process.

"Do you not have enough room?" he asks sarcastically.

She shrugs. "I could always use more."

I pull her close to me, loving her sass. Red hair suits her well with the fire she emits in her attitude.

"Sure does seem like your old man is jealous over there, holding you nice and close."

Nessa freezes, and even I pause. Gently, she sets her cup of tea on the coffee table before snuggling close to my chest, pressing in even closer to me.

"He has nothing to be jealous of," she states matter-of-factly as she places a kiss on my cheek. My grin could not be more smug, holding her tight against me.

"What would you call that then? Claiming you so hard I'm surprised he hasn't pissed on you."

The hard stare and set to his jawline makes me want to smack him. This is our home, not his. This is my woman, not his .

Pinching Nessa's chin, I turn her head to plant a soft kiss to her lips. But I don't give her a moment to answer, instead, I do.

"I would say I am being territorial , Kid."

He scoffs. "What's the difference, Old Man?"

Instead of looking at him, I look down at my girl.

"Jealousy is being envious of something you don't have." I steal a pointed glance at him before stroking a finger down my girl's cheek. "Territorial is protecting what's already yours. And make no mistake, Cillian. She is mine ."

Nessa's lips part subtly, making my cock jump beneath her. She feels it too, her eyes going half-hooded in an instant, biting her lip and squeezing her thighs together is proof of the arousal I bring when I claim her.

This woman makes me feral in all of the best ways. But maybe not the best in front of present company.

"I think Cillian needs a place he can run off to," I whisper in her ear.

Nessa nods quickly, understanding exactly what I'm saying. I need to fuck her hot cunt more than I need air right now.

"I'll show you the guest room," Nessa offers quickly, jumping up.

Cillian shrugs, grabbing his backpack from the floor.

"Isn't this his house?"

I shake my head as Nessa laughs. "It's both of ours. We built it together." She takes my hand in hers and squeezes before walking off with Cillian.

Instead of following them and fucking her on the wall outside his bedroom door, I decide to cool off and splash some water on my face. I go to our room and get dressed for the evening, throwing on a comfortable shirt and sweatpants. I know my girl will want to cuddle on the couch with a movie and finish her hot cup of tea as she usually does after a mission.

Heading back to the couch, I overhear them speaking.

"You could come watch a movie with us."

Oh, fuck no.

"Respectfully, Sweetheart, feck no."

I scrub a hand over my face in relief.

"Alright, good night, Killer."

"Good night, love." There's a pause, and I almost move until his gruff voice returns. "I'm glad you're alive."

The sheer amount of relief in his words is clear, and I struggle with my own emotions for a moment remembering the day I almost lost her.

Which explains why Nessa is wiping her face as she turns the corner a minute later. I reach out, hands cupping her cheeks as I kiss her forehead then look in her eyes.

"Are you alright, my Lisichka ?"

She nods even as her lips tremble. "Just a lot of memories," she whispers. "Good ones."

I kiss her, pressing her close as our breaths mingle. I might not like the kid staying here, but there is one thing he and I can both agree on. I am so thankful Nessa did not die that awful day. I will never forget the amount of blood or the level of fear I had in those moments when I thought I was going to lose her

"Want to relax on the couch? I'll make you a fresh cup of tea."

That sweet smile returns to her face. "Yes, please."

Heading to the kitchen with her tea, I know the perfect thing to help my girl right now. I was saving the surprise I have for her for Friday night, but I think she deserves a treat after a long day.

Grabbing the envelope from the drawer in the island, I head back with the steaming cup. First, I hand her the envelope while blowing on the contents as she stares at the gold scrawl written across the black paper.

A Night at the Russian Ballet is scrawled across the exclusive boxed seating invitations. Big eyes look up at me with a gasp, and before she can pounce, I hurriedly set down the tea.

"Shut up, no way. No feckin' way!"

I wrap my arms around her as she jumps into me.

"Alexi normally takes my tickets, but this year I thought you deserved something special for your birthday."

Her head leans back and her lips meet mine, lips I missed way too damn much. I settle us on the couch, her legs straddling me as I tangle my fingers in her soft crimson hair.

"Have I told you I love you lately?" she asks, her lips barely leaving mine before diving back in again.

"Not since you arrived home."

"I love you, Boris." She pulls back, cupping my face and assuring me in the way she knows I need to hear, but I can hear the genuineness of it in her voice too. "Together?"

My hand tangles with hers, our fingers intertwining as perfectly as they did on that terrifying day. The day I thought I was going to lose her.

Smoke clouds the air around us as the grenade outside does its job below the building. I ready myself to throw another when I see men walking, but a violent explosion catches me off guard, rocking the tower we are in a little too much for comfort.

Nessa instantly trains her gun on the door, but I step in front of her. If anyone is going to be in the line of fire, it is going to be me. I have to protect her. I have to keep her safe. I have to do for her what I could not do for the first woman I loved.

Nessa brushes against my side as she moves next to me, soft eyes pleading with me to understand. My eyes burn from the smoke that is now coming from the hall, but also from the way she is staring at me. She needs someone to work with her, not jump in front of her.

I try to take a deep breath but it hurts.

"Together?" she asks. My hands clench around my gun aiming at the door as I attempt to swallow, hoping my voice does not crack as I answer her.

This is what love is right here, and I have no doubt in my mind that is what I feel for her now. The thought terrifies me as much as it fuels me with adrenaline. I need to keep her safe.

"Together."

I try not to lose hope as the sound of footsteps grows closer, and my body seems to tense in ways I did not know was possible. But then a soft pair of lips brush my cheek, warming me from the inside out and strengthening a new resolve in my system.

Four men are down before they reach the door, but worry does not fully set in until we hear the signal for the rest of them to retreat. That bad feeling amplifies as I look out the window and a package is dropped at the base of the building just before the men below us run.

I shove the window closed and grab Nessa, pulling her into my arms and ducking below a desk just as the floor gives way. I try to hold tight to her as we fall, but something separates us and eventually all I see is darkness.

She asked me to fight with her, and I plan to fight until the very last second, no matter what it takes. She is mine, and I will not fail to protect what is mine again.

"Together." Keeping her close, I dim the lights with an app on my phone and start up her favorite movie.

I do not know what it is with the women in my life and Matthew McConaughey, but at least this movie is about science and space and not some mindless chick flick.

My hands roam Nessa's body. For so long, the age gap felt strange to me, but now I hardly notice it anymore. She was the missing piece to my heart, I just had to grow up a little more to see it.