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“The moment you two told me you were giving me grandchildren, your burdens became mine,” she said simply.
“And we’re trying to protect them too, Alessia,” Tristan added, finally stepping forward. His voice was quiet, but firm. “This is our problem and we will handle it.”
His words hung in the air for a moment, and an eerie silence descended upon the room again. Finally, my mother sighed and nodded, her gaze softening considerably.
“I understand,” she said quietly, giving Tristan a weak smile. “But just remember—we’re here if you need us. Let me finish cleaning this up.”
With that, she turned back to her task. Tristan and I exchanged a glance, his hand finding its way to mine. The moment his fingers enveloped mine, the knot in my stomach loosened slightly. Watching my mother clean up our mess was hard, but knowing that Tristan stood by me made it bearable.
Once the room was cleaned to her satisfaction, my mother finally deemed it fit for occupation. She set the vacuum cleaner aside and dusted off her hands. “You’re right,” she sighed, “this is your fight. But never forget that you have people who will stand with you through thick and thin.”
I nodded, my throat dry.
“I’ll handle the body,” Tristan suddenly said, breaking the silence that had fallen over us. His voice had an edge to it, indicating he was ready to press on, to move forward, to shoulder the weight that came with our reality.
Wordlessly, I gave his hand a tight squeeze, trying to silently convey all the things I couldn’t put into words: that I was here for him, that we were in this together, and most importantly, that I loved him.
As Tristan left the room to attend to the grim task at hand and I heard him grab his keys from the hook next to the front door, my mother and I sat in silence. It felt strange, like everything had shifted somehow. The line between parent and child seemed blurred. For the first time, I felt like my mother was seeing me not just as her daughter, but as an adult capable of making difficult decisions and taking responsibility for my own actions.
“Adriana,” my mother finally broke the silence. Her tone was gentle, cautious. She took a deep sigh before continuing, “I want you to know that whatever happens next... your father and I will always be here for you.”
I stared at her for a long time. “I wish you would let me take care of things myself.”
“I would,” she replied. “If I wasn’t worried that doing that would put you and my grandchildren in danger.”
Silence enveloped us again, filling the room like a dense fog. My heart pounded painfully against my chest as I digested her words. I knew she was right, that our family was involved in a dangerous business—one that didn’t discriminate between innocent and guilty. But it didn’t make it any easier to accept.
“Mom,” I started, but she raised a hand to stop me.
“I know what you’re going to say,” she said pointedly. “And I understand. But our family...our world, it doesn’t work like that. We can’t just step aside and let the younger generation handle things on their own. It’s not about stepping on your toes, Adriana. It’s about ensuring safety and survival. We’ve been in this business far too long to not know how dangerous it is. Tristan is now the head of one of the biggest families in Boston, and while the two of you make a powerful union, you’ve also painted a target on your back.”
As her words sunk in, a chill ran down my spine. She was right. The world we lived in didn’t follow the normal rules of society. It was a constant struggle for power and control and, despite my best attempts, I couldn’t protect everyone I cared about.
“I just want you to be safe,” I murmured, looking down at my hands.
“And we want the same for you,” she replied softly. Her hand reached out, gently squeezing mine in reassurance. “We are here for you, Adriana.”
I nodded, unable to trust my voice. We sat there in silence for what felt like forever until Tristan returned, his face pale but determined, his shoes dirty with mud.
“It’s done,” he said simply, his cheeks red from the cold.
I nodded. “Now what?”
“Now,” Tristan said. “We get ready for the next threat.”
Chapter Three: Tristan
Aman breaking into our house…that, I could deal with. Adriana’s mother randomly showing up only minutes after it had happened was an entirely different matter.
Sitting in a leather armchair across from me, Alessia was a formidable presence. Her eyes were filled with the same steely resolve I’d seen in Adriana’s many times - a chilling reminder of where my love got her tenacity.
“Alessia,” I began, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me, “I can’t apologize enough for this.”
“No need for apologies, Tristan,” she responded, her tone cool and controlled. “This isn’t your fault.”
Her words did little to ease my guilt. I was the one who brought this danger into their lives. As the head of the Callahan family, I had failed in my primary duty - to protect those that mattered to me.
And now here we were, sitting in our living room, surrounded by remnants of danger and violence that had trespassed our sanctuary.
