Page 159 of Godless Saints

Cillian took the bowl. “I fight. Boxing. Muay Thai. That sort of thing.”

Father nodded, almost approving. “Discipline matters. Structure.”

Mother smiled. “What about languages? You must speak a few, being Irish.”

“I speak Irish. English. Working on my Korean.”

I cut in before anyone else could speak. “Can we let him eat first?”

Father ignored me. “What are your plans after Evermourne?”

“Work for the family business,” Cillian said. “I’ll inherit it one day.”

Yuna perked up. “What does your family do?”

I winced. “Yuna, that’s—”

Father answered for him. “The Ashbournes have… diverse business interests.”

Grandmother’s eyes widened with understanding. “Ah. One of those families.” She looked at me, delighted. “Now I see why you find him so sexy, Hyun.”

Heat climbed my neck. “Stab me. Please. Right now. In the heart. Make it quick.”

Cillian grinned. “I’ll marry your grandmother after you’re dead then.”

Grandmother winked at him. “I’d consider it.”

“This is very wrong,” I muttered.

Mother laughed for Grandmother. Not for me.

Yuna tilted her head at Cillian. “Do Irish people actually eat beans for breakfast? And teach me a Gaelic swear word.”

Cillian smiled. “Beans? Sometimes. The swear word depends on how much trouble you want to get into.”

Mother turned to us. “So how did you two meet?”

“Saint Lucia,” Cillian said.

Mother’s chopsticks paused. “Moon never mentioned Saint Lucia.”

I froze. “I told you I was in Geneva. I lied.” I couldn’t look at her when I said it. “I went to Saint Lucia.”

Grandmother burst out laughing. “Saint Lucia? Finally. You’ve acted like a tired businessman since you were ten. It’s about time you made one irresponsible decision.”

Cillian couldn’t hold back a laugh. “I love your grandmother.”

Grandmother waved Mother off when she tried to interrupt. “Life is much shorter than your grandfather thought it was. Kiss the handsome Irishman and stop apologizing for it.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I miss Evermourne.”

Cillian reached over and pulled my hands away from my face. “Don’t cover up your pretty face.”

“Don’t call me pretty in front of the family,” I hissed.

Mother folded her napkin neatly. "You suit each other."

Yuna grinned. “I love Irish people. Best people on the planet. Really.”