Page 9 of Crimson Tears

“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, holdingher 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 eatsthough, 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?”

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