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“Strategic positions,” I lied smoothly, letting the vagueness hang in the chilled air between us. “Are we clear?”
“For a bit, yes,” Sean said, then looked at his phone. “Nick and Gio are on their way here. We’ll make ourselves scarce before they arrive. I don’t know if anyone is coming with them. Are we ready?”
Kieran gave a slight nod, his expression unreadable. Liam shuffled beside me, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders. I could almost see his carefree spirit battling with the grim reality of our world.
“Let’s get back to the car,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Sean looked at us, his brow furrowed. He edged closer to me, dropping his voice to a whisper before he spoke. “Boss, all due respect, why is Liam here? This isn’t child’s play.”
“Because he’s a little asshole who wouldn’t let up,” I said under my breath, then finished my sentence in my normal voice. “Family business.”
My annoyance at Liam’s insistence simmered beneath the surface. But even then, there was a part of me that understood his need to prove himself, to be one of us.
“Be ready,” I told them, my eyes scanning the shadows. “The Rossis won’t go down without a fight.”
And neither would we. Not now, not ever. This was our life, our blood. And we’d spill theirs to protect it.
We went back to the car under the cover of night. We were just parked far enough away that I didn’t think there was a risk of the Rossis seeing us.
The heavy door to the warehouse creaked open. Even from where we were sitting, I could imagine a shadow stretched across the concrete floor as the Rossis made their entrance. Their silhouettes were unmistakable - Nick Rossi leading the way with his brother Gio just a step behind him. The tension in the air thickened like blood about to clot.
“Tristan,” Sean murmured from behind a stack of crates, his voice a low hiss. “When’s the bomb going off?”
“Patience, Sean,” I replied, keeping my eyes fixed on the advancing figures. “It’ll happen soon. Kieran?”
“Hands on the trigger,” my brother replied, waving his phone at me.
I could feel the unease radiating off Liam, his body rigid as he watched our rivals approach. Sean’s hand hovered near his concealed weapon, a silent promise of violence ready to be fulfilled.
I wanted to go in there and kick the shit out of Nick Rossi. I wanted to murder him with my bare hands for what he had almost done to Adriana. This was more than just territory—it was personal, down to the marrow.
They spoke to each other, and after a tense nod, they turned back toward the exit. My heart hammered against my ribs, every second stretching out as they moved crates outside, unknowingly carrying their fates in their hands. I had given Adriana my word—nothing would happen to me, and that meant not confronting this asshole, no matter how much I wanted to.
My brothers and I exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing through our looks. We were bound by blood, united by a purpose deeper than the ocean’s trenches.
“Okay,” I said to Kieran. “Do it.”
Kieran pressed a button on his phone.
And the world erupted into chaos.
A deafening roar shattered the stillness as flames leaped into the sky, consuming the warehouse’s entrance. The ground beneath the car shuddered, and for a moment, everything was noise and fire and smoke.
Through the billowing clouds, I saw Nick and Gio stumble clear of the blast, their outlines blurred but unmistakable. They were alive—shaken, but unharmed. My chest tightened with relief and frustration, conflict warring within me. This wasn’t how I planned it, yet here we were, dancing on a razor’s edge.
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath, watching the orange glow paint shadows on the faces of my brothers. This was just the beginning. The Rossis would retaliate, and we’d be ready. For Adriana, for our unborn children, for the legacy of the Callahans, we’d stand firm.
But as the flames danced in the reflection of Liam’s wide eyes, I couldn’t help but wonder at what cost.
The warehouse was a graveyard of ashes and smoke, the fire’s red tongues licking the night sky as if savoring its destruction. I shoved the car into gear, the engine’s growl mixing with the cacophony of sirens in the distance. We needed to get out, fast.
“Tristan, watch out!” Liam’s voice cracked like a whip through my focus. I glanced up just in time to see Nick Rossi, his face twisted with rage beneath the streetlights’ sickly yellow glow. His arm raised, a glint of metal in his hand catching the flicker of the dying flames.
The sound of the gunshot boomed louder than the crackling fire. Sean’s car lurched to the side as one of the tires blew, the rubber shredded by the bullet’s kiss. The vehicle skidded, metal groaning against asphalt, and I fought to regain control.
“Out, now!” I barked at the three of them as we spilled from the car like a deck of cards scattered by an angry fist. My heart hammered against my ribs, adrenaline fueling my senses.
Nick had taken cover behind another car, but Gio was nowhere to be seen. We drew our guns, the weight familiar and cold in my hands. The standoff was brief; the Rossis were clearly frazzled, but the animosity between us burned hotter than the inferno we left behind.
