Page 119 of Wicked Savage

I figured I’d need to be ready if my father ever found me.

When I left, I told myself it was for the best. That I could find peace in this isolation.

Konstantin arranged everything, and I fell into this quiet life, trying to forget. I buried myself in books. In the rhythm of mornings spent walking the grounds. In the feeling of the Italian sun on my skin. It was enough, or at least I convinced myself it was.

But today? Today, everything changed. I could feel it the moment his name slipped through Konstantin’s mouth. He had been talking—something about business with the Quinns—and then, just like that, it was there.

“Cillian,” he said so casually, like it didn’t shatter the fragile peace I’ve worked so hard to build.

His name in the air between us was like a weight, like a chain pulling me under. And I was drowning in it all over again.

I hadn’t expected to feel this way. Years. It’s beenyears.

Yet when I close my eyes, I can still hear his voice. That rough edge when he said my name for the last time. I can still see the way he looked at me, like I was something he wanted but couldn’t keep.

And now that part of me I buried so deep is clawing its way back to the surface.

I’m so damn tired of pretending. Pretending I’m fine. Pretending I don’t still ache when I remember the way he touched me, the way he looked at me when the world was collapsing around us.

He broke me. And I let him.

But no matter how hard I try to move on, he’s still there—lingering, inescapable, woven into the fabric of my past.

I finger the tennis bracelet he gave me, the one I never take off, and my heart twists. Some ghosts never really leave.

The phone buzzes in my hand, and I glance down to see my younger sister’s name flash across the screen, calling me like she does every night.

I don’t know what I expected from this call—some casual chat about her classes and the boys she likes, maybe—but when I swipe the screen and her face fills the display, it’s not what I imagined at all.

She looks…off. Her usual easy smile is absent, replaced with a nervous tension I can feel through the phone. I lean forward instinctively, trying to pick up on whatever’s going on in her world. But before I can speak, her eyes flicker to the side, like she’s checking to make sure no one’s listening.

“Hey,” I say softly. “You okay?”

She hesitates, her lips pressing together like she’s searching for the right words. That’s when I know something’s wrong.

I lean back on the sofa, the peaceful quiet of this villa pressing in on me, making everything feel that much more foreign. My sister’s in New Jersey. My brother. My family. And I’ve been so far away from it all—hiding from my own past, hiding from him—that I’ve let everything fall into pieces without even realizing it.

“I saw them.” The words come out in a rush, her voice trembling just enough for me to hear the fear beneath it.

I frown, sitting up straighter.

“Dad’s men. They were at my school today.”

My stomach drops. The air in the room goes thick, pressing down on me.

“What do you mean, Dad’s men?” I whisper, even though I know exactly what she means.

Even after all this time, my father isn’t done. He was just beginning.

“They’ve been watching me, Din. I know it. They were outside by the gates the other day. I’m so afraid.”

My pulse is a hammer in my temple. “Where were your bodyguards? Have you told Konstantin?”

“They didn’t notice them, and no, I haven’t. I just…” She sighs. “I didn’t know what to do. I’ve wanted to tell you for a few days now, but I didn’t want to make you worry.”

My throat is tight, filled with the panic I’ve tried to keep buried all this time. I thought it was over. I thought my father had given up. But I was wrong.

My little brother too. God, where is he? Is he safe?

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