Page 63 of Sins of the Father

"With me," I clarify. "We take each day as it comes."

She gives no answer but doesn't walk away. Instead, her hand reaches for mine, fingers threading between my own. A silent acknowledgment.

I pull her closer, mindful of everything we've been through. Her body fits against mine, familiar yet different now that truth exists between us. All masks removed.

"I want you," I whisper against her hair.

"Even knowing everything?" she asks, voice uncertain.

"Because I know everything," I correct. "No more lies between us."

She raises her face to mine. The kiss begins soft, questioning, unlike our previous encounters born of anger or lust. This connection acknowledges our shared wounds, our complicated past.

I lift her in my arms, carrying her to the bedroom. Her weight feels right against my chest. I place her on the bed with care, aware of Sarah sleeping down the hall.

She reaches for me, palm against my cheek. "This feels different."

"It is different," I answer, sitting beside her.

Her fingers work the buttons of my shirt, revealing my chest. She traces old scars, new bruises from the rescue. I allow her exploration, surrendering control for the first time.

I help her undress, removing her clothes with reverence rather than haste. Her skin shows no marks from captivity—that burden fell to Sarah. I kiss her throat, her collarbone, tasting freedom.

"Cillian," she breathes as I move above her.

Our bodies join slowly, deliberately. No rush, no power games. Just connection.

"I see you," I tell her, moving within her. "All of you."

Her eyes stay open, locked with mine. True intimacy beyond physical pleasure. Her arms encircle me, holding rather than clinging. Each breath, each motion communicates what words cannot yet express.

"I never expected this," she confesses as we move together. "You."

"Nor I you," I answer.

Our pace builds gradually, not toward frantic release but shared completion. When she comes, her body arches beneath mine, face transformed by pleasure without pretense. I follow, surrendering completely.

After, we lie facing each other, no barriers between us. Her fingers trace patterns on my chest. Mine stroke her hair.

"What are we?" she asks into the quiet.

"Something that shouldn't exist but does," I answer. "Something worth protecting."

She nods against my shoulder, eyes growing heavy with exhaustion.

"Rest," I tell her. "Tomorrow brings enough challenges."

As she drifts into sleep, I hold her close, watching shadows play across her face. This woman who came to destroy my family now lies protected in my arms. Life's strange symmetry.

Down the hall, Sarah sleeps under Kavanagh protection, an innocent pulled into our world by resemblance and bad timing.

For now, keeping them both safe is enough.

CHAPTER 25

ORLA

Isit across from Detective Doyle at a corner table in Murphy's Diner, watching steam rise from his untouched coffee. Two weeks passed since the rescue, and this marks our first meeting. His face shows the fury I expected.

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