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He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied his half-finished beer, twirling it between his fingers. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than before. “I’m saying this world we’re in...it’s not kind to dreamers, Tristan.”
I wanted to argue that there was more at stake here than just our family’s power and reputation. That my unwillingness to marry Adriana–despite the mess it would inevitably create–was not due to naivety or foolish idealism but rather a deep-seated belief that love should not be bartered and traded like a commodity.
That I wanted to keep her away from the Callahans.
Most importantly, I wanted to keep her alive.
I wanted to tell him all of this, but I didn’t. I saw Kieran in ways many didn’t. He had been hardened by our father, who was only marginally rougher on me than my little brother. He’d only been thirteen when my mom died, even younger when his died, and I knew that it had hit him harder than anyone else. It was the two of us against the world after that, and we had begun to lose sight of everything else. Liam was eight, and his mom was long dead by then. He was too young to understand just how horrifying everything that had happened was.
We made sure to keep him as sheltered as we could. He didn’t need to deal with it. Not if he didn’t have to.
The violence Dusty had referred to wasn’t a surprise to either of us, but Malachy Callahan did try to keep us protected from it. If our father was responsible for our mothers’ deaths, then he made sure it didn’t happen right before our eyes.
And that…that had to be something. Right?
I sighed deeply, gazing down at the worn wood table. “You might be right.”
His eyes flicked over to me, a hint of surprise in them. “What?”
“I said you might be right,” I repeated, keeping my voice steady even though a part of me wanted to lash out, to argue and make excuses.
There was a heavy silence between us, only broken by the clatter and chatter around us. The pub was filling up for the evening, groups of men settling down with their pints and unwinding after a long day.
My attention shifted to the group of men filing into the booth around us. Their boisterous laughter filled the otherwise quiet pub, their energy changing the tense atmosphere almost instantly. “Hello, lads. What did we miss?”
“Couple of rounds of beer and some priceless brotherly bonding,” Kieran said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.
The lads erupted into laughter. Ronan, the youngest among us but the largest by far, slid into the booth next to me. “You boys always have a way of turning a fun night out into something serious.”
“No thanks to my brother here,” I said, nodding towards Kieran as I took a long swig of my beer. The bitter taste was beginning to grow on me.
“Enough about your great big family tragedy. I’ve already finished Succession,” Ronan said dismissively. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”
I could tell from his tone that he wasn’t interested in discussing family matters anymore. It was probably for the best given how heated things had become between Kieran and I just moments ago. Instead, we began discussing our latest business ventures, an effective distraction from the personal turmoil that had been threatening to consume me ever since my initial encounter with Adriana Orsini.
As the night wore on, I found myself falling more and more into the role that had been thrust upon me - the leader, the executor of our father’s grand vision. The clock was ticking for me, and in a twisted way, I was grateful for the distraction. With every round of drinks and every plan made, I could feel my personal guilt and fear lessen ever so slightly.
“Listen up, lads,” I said after a while, drawing their attention from a particularly raucous story Ronan was telling about his latest fling. “We need to be on our guard. The Orsinis…well, they might soon come knocking.”
There was a brief silence as they all exchanged glances. I could see them processing this new piece of information, their playful demeanors evaporating in an instant. Kieran met my gaze across the table as Ronan put down his drink and leaned back in his seat.
“The Orsinis?” he echoed with a frown. “Thought you were going to take care of that problem.”
“He hit it and quit it,” Kieran said.
I glared at him. “I decided not to go through with the wedding.”
Ronan blanched. “Boss, all due respect, what the fuck?”
Ray and Killian exchanged glances, their features etched with surprise, shock, and annoyance. Ray’s normally jovial expression morphed into a gaping disbelief as he blurted out, “Bloody hell, Tristan! You’ve gone mad!”
Killian was the quiet one, always had been. A man of few words, he wore his dark hair slicked back, his piercing hazel eyes somehow always seeing more than they let on. He placed his glass down and leaned forward, his gaze intent on me. “Did you consider the potential fallout of your decision?” His tone was steady, like a calm before an impending storm.
“No. I did it to fuck with you lot. What do you think, Killian?”
Killian blanched. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“No, I know...I know, mate. I’m just a little testy, that’s all.”
