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But as I looked into her eyes, a cold truth settled over me.
I really liked Adriana Orsini. If I was just like my father…and there was every chance I was…
There was no way I could do this to her.
Chapter Six: Tristan
After we finished breakfast, it was time for me to drive her home. The original animosity between us had diminished a little. She was witty and captivating, a surprisingly great conversationalist despite the headache she still had but had only mildly complained about and the circumstances that surrounded us. She was wearing the dress from the night before, her short hair pinned away from her face.
When we finally reached her doorstep, Adriana turned to me with a shy smile, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue. “Thank you for everything, Tristan,” she murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to my cheek. “I never thought I’d say this, but...maybe you’re changing my mind. Maybe I’m looking forward to being your wife.”
My blood ran cold at the sincerity of her words. “Get some sleep,” I said. “We’ll talk soon.”
“Goodnight, Tristan” she whispered, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before disappearing into her building, leaving me to ponder the future that awaited us both.
Then I sped home, thinking about her eyes, the desire in them even as they watered with unshed tears.
Fuck.
As soon as I parked in the concrete parking lot attached to my building, I thought about her lingering scent on the leather. The moment I closed the car door behind me, the weight of our shared intimacy settled heavily on my shoulders. The image of Adriana’s tear-streaked cheeks, a stark contrast to her earlier anticipation, haunted me. Our passionate encounter had been intense and raw, but it had also revealed a vulnerability in both of us that I couldn’t ignore.
I paced around my living room before taking my phone out of my pocket. I had messages from my brother and some of my guys, but I ignored them all as I steeled myself for a conversation I didn’t want to have.
“Damn it,” I muttered, running my fingers through my hair as I reached for my phone. It was time to face the inevitable confrontation with my father.
“Tristan?” His gruff voice echoed through the line, the sound of a glass clinking against the table in the background betraying his early-morning drink.
I swallowed. “Dad,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil within. “We need to talk.”
He laughed. “Aye, not over the phone, lad,” he said. “Make your way to the club tonight. We’ll talk. Give me a little preview though. Was she good?”
I knew exactly what he was getting at, my spine tensing at his tone. “She was,” I said, clenching my fist around my phone. “But that doesn’t mean anything. That’s not why I called you.”
“We can arrange the details later,” my father said. “She’ll need a ring...”
“No, Dad,” I replied when he drifted off. “I can’t do this.”
He scoffed. “What?” he said gruffly. “You can’t back out after you’ve already put the poor girl through all this.”
“I didn’t put her through anything she didn’t want,” I replied through gritted teeth. “But that’s not the point. We’re talking about the marriage here, Dad, not how she is in bed.”
“Come to the club now,” he said. “We have to talk.”
“No,” I said, trying to keep my voice as firm as possible. “We’ll talk now. If you don’t want to wait until tonight, then I’m...”
I’m what? I didn’t even have a good threat for him. Images of Adriana’s shimmering eyes assaulted me every time I closed my eyes. It steeled my resolve, but it didn’t make me any wittier. I wasn’t nearly as quick with my father as I was with everyone else I knew.
Malachy Callahan intimidated everyone, including his own grown-up sons. I didn’t know if that was ever going to change.
I stayed on the line while my father worked out what I meant to say, the pause stretching out until it was unbearable. “Figure it out and have my answer by the time you’re here tonight,” he said at last and hung up, leaving me sitting in silence next to the phone.
I wanted to beg him, but I knew it wouldn’t work.
I hated the things he expected me to do, and I absolutely detested his rigidness, but I couldn’t deny that the club was my legacy. All of us had been born into this life, and there was nothing in the world that could have made my father give up the kind of wealth and power he held onto with both hands. There were plenty of people—inside and outside the club—that didn’t approve of him and what he did, but it didn’t matter how brutal or intense or even illegal his methods were. He got the job done.
This was the first time I’d been forced to choose between my own wishes and my father’s. He’d asked me plenty of times in the past—many of them laced with hints of threats or disownment—but it was never more than a part-time job, a particularly difficult errand, or something where I wouldn’t have to see the consequences. I wasn’t a fan of doing more dangerous jobs personally. I could live without knowing that kind of fear and anxiety. I had obligations now, though. New ones, beyond attending the family business meetings and accompanying my father for his “business” plans. My stomach twisted sickeningly at that thought as I tried to focus on a screen, on anything other than what had transpired that night.
Adriana was good.
