32. Cillian

Declanand I are sitting across from Lev, who looks smugger than a pig in shit.

"Things are well in paradise?" he draws.

"Cut the shit, Lev. What is this about?" I ask, ready to get home.

Finn texted me and said that he was helping Elena carry all her new shit to her nest. It's not that I don't trust my brother, but I don't want him to fuck up what Elena and I are working towards. All he has to do is say one thing, and it could set us all back. I hate thinking like that because I know he's been trying.

I'm actually starting to see some glimpses of the brother I once knew, and I don't know how to handle that information.

"Anthony Amante was spotted in Reno," Lev informs, cutting through the bullshit.

"Great, he's fucking seven hours away. What do you want me to do with that?" Declan asks.

Lev rolls his eyes and hands over a photograph.

"The dumb shit really took her," I whisper as I look down at the picture. It's Anthony Amante holding Natasha Barbieri's wrist with a vice-like grip.

"There's speculation the Barbieri girl is hiding her designation. I don't know if the asshole is trying to set up shop in Reno now that he knows he has a death warrant in Sin City, but my guess is he's trying to use the girl to gain leverage. The same thing he wanted to do with that little Omega of yours."

"Thank you for the intel, Lev," I say, going to grab the photo.

"Ah. Information isn't free." He holds the photograph, looking down at it before glancing back up at me.

"I want a meeting with Salvatore Barbieri."

"Why?"

"I want to make a deal. I will rescue his daughter, and perhaps we can come to an agreement of some sorts."

"There's no indication that she's an Omega."

"I don't care. Make it happen."

In an effort to get home and not have to deal with this shit anymore, I pull out my phone and call Salvatore Barbieri.

"What?" he answers the phone sharply.

"We have intel on Natasha. Anthony has her."

"I'm going to gut that rat fucker. Where are they?"

I sigh and look up at Lev. "Lev Dezhurov found them. I'm passing the phone over to him."

Lev grins as I hand him the phone, and he tells the head of the Western Italian mafia that he wants to marry his daughter and that he will personally handle getting her back safely.

It's all a little dramatic, but knowing that Anthony is afraid to show his face in town makes me feel a little better about Elena going into heat. With the Russians and the Italians knowing where he is and that he has Natasha with him, it basically absolves the Irish from having any part of this issue, and yet we still benefit.

Almost all our relationships are well-standing, minus a few outlying families. I'll have to thank Anthony Amante for his service after Lev or Salvatore puts him in a shallow grave in the desert.

Lev hands me back the phone. The call has already been disconnected.

"My new father-in-law is no bullshit. I like it."

"I take it you and your guys are headed to Reno?"

He grins.

"I'll send you a deepest sympathies bouquet as soon as I kill the fucker."

"Make sure you make it hurt," I say.

I've never been the one to get my hands dirty like Finn or Declan, but for the man who wanted to hurt my Omega, who had nefarious plans for her future? I could kill him with a clear conscience.

"Maybe my new little wife will enjoy torturing him for you," he grins, and I shake my head.

We shake hands and leave the restaurant.

"Let's hope that poor girl likes crazy," Declan sighs.

I shrug my shoulders. "She could do worse than an obsessive Russian psychopath."

Declan blinks at me like I'm an idiot. I ditched the cane for this meeting, and I regret it as we drive home.

"Glass, in the nest? What the fuck was I thinking?" Elena grumbles to herself as she stands on the stepstool and takes the teal vases off the shelves above her nest bed.

The room looks completely different from the last time I saw it. Besides there being ten times more stuff in here, it feels softer, homier.

"Need help?" I say it softly so I don't startle her.

She holds out the glass for me, and I put it in the box on the floor.

"I don't know what I was thinking. One rough fuck and all of this could come tumbling over and knock one of us unconscious." She sighs, looking at the vintage glassware."Though it is pretty, it goes with the room so well."

"We could put a shelf over by the kitchenette?" I suggest, and she grins.

"Do you know how to use a drill, too?"

My brows furrow, and I nod. "Yes."

She hums and keeps handing me glass pieces that I place into the box.

"Have you been working on the room all day?"

"Do you like it? It's not bad, is it? It's not too much?"

"It's perfect," I tell her.

"Almost. It doesn't smell right, and we need to fill the kitchen with food. Also, I need bath bombs."

She climbs down the stepladder. I keep one hand on the ladder and one on her lower back, making sure she doesn't hurt herself.

"Where's your cane?"

"Don't need it," I lie.

Her tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth, and she shakes her head.

"Sit," she demands, pointing at the odd-looking teal chair.

"Where did this come from?"

"It's called a Tantra Chair. We got it from Luxe Nest, I thought it would be good for your leg," she admits shyly.

I sit on the chair, leaning back into the arched surface with a leg on each side.

"You got this for me?"

She hands me a manual that looks like it's meant for some extremely in-depth electronic device, but it shows all the different positions and facets of the chair.

"Maybe not completely for you, but it's supposed to be great to help distribute weight. The salesman said it would be great with your wound."

"Come here."

She immediately straddles my lap, her legs easily resting on the side of mine, where she could shift her body weight while our pelvis' touch. Although my suit and her sleep shorts are currently in the way.

I kiss her neck, and she shivers. Her scent is thicker than usual, but she doesn't have a fever. It's only a matter of time before she goes into heat.

"So sweet thinking about me."

Her hands tangle in my hair, and she kisses my nose.

"I am sweet, aren't I?"

She wiggles in my lap and then pulls back.

"I need you to bring your pillows down here, and I still need bath bombs," she repeats as she crawls off my lap.

I blink at her in confusion. I definitely thought I was going to get more than a kiss on the nose.

"There's no time for this," she says, waving a hand in my direction. "The nest needs to be perfect. Steal some stuff from the other guys' rooms too. It doesn't smell right."

Clearly, she's not as affected as I am while she works on folding towels and blankets and putting them away in a very particular order. She's like a fairy as she floats over to the kitchenette and realizes all the cups and plates are made of glass and ceramic.

"No, this won't do."

She completely forgets I'm in the room as she packs them up and places them in a wagon that is clearly full of shit that does not meet her perfect nest criteria.

She finally notes my presence again and gives me a sharp glare.

"Didn't I give you a job to do?"

I grin, loving this side of her. I nod my head and heft myself off of the chair. I wince, and her eyes narrow on me.

"And if I see you walking around without your cane, I'll beat you with it."

I smile and kiss the side of her head.

"Of course, mo stór."

I go to grab the wagon handle, and she smacks my hand away.

"Tell one of the others to come and get it. I have jobs for them, too."

I drop the handle, and as badly as I want to throw her on the bed and ravish her for caring about me, I know her making her nest perfect is more important than anything right now.

Not wanting to deal with her scolding, I grab my cane from the living room and start doing her bidding.

I head to Finn's room first.

He's fresh out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist as he looks up at me.

"Thank you for helping Elena with her nest today," I say.

He just shrugs. Typical, avoidant Finn bullshit.

"She wants some of our stuff. She said the nest doesn't smell right."

He grabs two of his pillows and his comforter and hands them to me wordlessly.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

He inhales deeply and looks away from me before speaking.

"It feels wrong."

"What does?"

"That someone like me should get a second chance."

"Haven't you spent enough years beating yourself up about this?"

"Just let me know if she needs anything else," he grumbles, waving me off and heading back to his bathroom.

He might still be self-deprecating, but if there's anyone who stands a chance of breaking down my brother's walls, it"s Elena.

I grab a few of my things and bring them back down the hall to Elena's nest.

"Where do you want these?" I ask.

"Ugh, they're such ugly colors. Put them on that daybed, and I'll figure it out," she says.

I hold back a laugh as her tablet starts chiming, and she crawls over the nest and picks up the FaceTime call with Lorcán.

He's panning the screen to all the bath bombs on display.

"Which ones do you want? There's so many fucking options."

"Nothing with flowers and shit inside of it."

Lorcán laughs and starts going through the different rows where she vetoes or approves the bath bomb choices.

"What's that one smell like?"

"Orange blossom."

"Get it. What about that one?"

"It's some sort of lavender and chamomile type thing. It's supposed to help you sleep," he replies.

"Get a few of them too."

"Sir, do you need any help?" the saleswoman asks.

"No, he has it covered," Elena snaps sharply over the video call, and Lorcán shakes his head.

"Is there anything else you want while I'm out?"

"We need cups and plates that aren't breakable. Not ugly ones either, teal or white. Maeve is already handling all the food, and Declan is putting all the other stuff away for me. I don't want to miss anything," she lists, looking around the room like it isn't already an Omega oasis.

"I'm being a bit much, aren't I?"

"Not even a little," Lorcán answers as he checks out, buying so many bath bombs, I know they'll last her for weeks. "I'll be home soon. I'll send you pictures from the homeware place and you can tell me what you like."

"Okay, see you soon."

They end the call, and she looks up at me.

"I've never nested before. I've always gone to the hospital, taken some medication, and spent my heat sedated."

"You deserve to have the perfect heat, Elena. Whatever you need to make it special, we'll do it."

She walks over to the daybed where I'm sitting and shuffles through our pillows and blankets.

"I think next time, leading up to my heat, we'll get you teal or white pillows and blankets to use in your bedrooms so they'll match with my aesthetic."

I laugh and grab her by the waist, clutching her close.

"We haven't done anything sexual since the High Roller."

"It's part of my ten-step program of making you earn me back, Mr. O'Brien. Plus, did you get the okay from your doctor for strenuous activity?" she teases.

"There're a few positions that are unfortunately off the table, but I have been given the green light."

"Then you'll just have to be a patient Alpha," she whispers in my ear, gripping the lapels of my suit jacket.

"How much longer do you think you're going to be torturing me?"

She licks the side of my neck and bites my ear lobe. "Wouldn't you like to know? Also, you only finished half of your job. Go get the pillows from Declan and Lorcán's room, and then we'll talk."

I groan as she pushes me away, and she laughs at my misery.