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“Adriana...” I started, but she was already gone. My heart hammered against my ribs as I considered the implications of her sudden departure. The fear of Killian’s potential betrayal gnawed at me, alongside the violent memories of last night’s show of force. I couldn’t ignore the urgency to follow her.
“Excuse me,” I said, my voice more strained than I intended, as I pushed away from the table and walked in her direction.
“Tristan,” Silvio called after me, his tone sharp enough to slice through the tension. But I didn’t stop; some things were more important than appeasing the head of the Orsini family.
Before I could catch up to her, Carmen was standing next to me.
“I’ll check on her,” she said, though her posture suggested she wanted nothing more than to wash her hands of the whole matter.
“Thanks,” I replied, my throat tight with worry. As Carmen walked past me, I heard the faint rustle of her dress, and I leaned against the cool wall, fighting the sense that everything we had built was balanced on the edge of a knife.
I could’ve gone back to the table, but I wanted to go check on Adriana instead. Everything was so intense, and I just wanted to make sure that Adriana was alright.
Pausing outside the door, I leaned in, my ear pressed against the cool wood. Through it, I could hear the hitch of breath, the soft symphony of sobs that twisted around my heart like barbed wire. Adriana’s voice broke through, laced with a fear that made my insides coil.
“I’m just so stressed, Carmen,” she choked out. “And last night... I thought Tristan was—“
“Shh,” Carmen’s voice cut in, sharp and clear. “You don’t have to do this. Just dump him and come back home.”
“Are you insane?” Adriana’s voice rose in disbelief. “It’s not that simple.”
“He bailed on marrying you, he got you pregnant, then he kidnapped you,” Carmen said. “In black and white, it feels simple.”
I almost burst through the door right then, my hands fisting at my sides. Instead, something held me back—a whisper of caution in my mind. I stayed rooted to the spot, a silent sentinel.
“Whatever you say, I love him,” Adriana said, which did a little to ease the knot in my throat. “Did Dad ever try to tie you down with one of these political marriages? Maybe if he had, you’d understand too.”
“He talked about it briefly once,” she said. “But I said no. I carve my own path.”
“Wait. One of the Callahans?”
Carmen hesitated, then said, “No. That’s the weirdest thing, it wasn’t.”
“So who with?” Adriana asked.
“I don’t know. We never got to that part of the conversation before I shot him down.”
I shifted my weight, the old floorboard creaking under my shoe—a sound I immediately regretted.
“Carm,” Adriana said. “There’s something I’ve been dying to talk to you about.”
“What?” Carmen said.
“There’s…look, there’s no easy way to say this. But about Dad’s book. I found evidence that someone is embezzling, and well, I’m not saying you did anything. But I’m giving you a chance to defend yourself, right now, in private, away from Tristan.”
Carmen scoffed. “What?”
“Please, Carmen,” Adriana’s voice quivered with urgency, “Just tell me the truth.”
Silence hung heavy. Even without seeing her face, I could picture Carmen wrestling with her pride, the same stubborn set to her jaw that she always had when cornered.
“Adriana,” Carmen finally spoke, her tone carrying an edge of defiance, “you think I’m stealing? From our own family?”
The accusation sliced through the quiet, and I could all but see the hurt flashing in Adriana’s eyes. “Well, I don’t think that, but–”
“And do something that would make you look this bad? Look, I might be an asshole, but I don’t want anyone to hurt you,” Carmen said. “And Dad would get so mad…”
“Are you–”
