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“Right.” I exhaled slowly, attempting to reign in the frustration. “Let’s deal with one crisis at a time.”
“Agreed. Get here as soon as you can. We’ll figure it out.”
He hung up and I stared at my phone. The weight of leadership settled heavier on my shoulders with each passing day, but there was no turning back now. The Callahan family was all I had, all I was. And no matter the cost, I would protect it. When the bathroom door creaked open, I pocketed my phone and turned to look at her.
Adriana stepped out, her face pale and drawn, dark hair plastered to her forehead. The fierce woman who could command a room with her sharp wit was absent. In her place stood someone fragile, someone who’d been through the wringer and come out the other side barely holding on.
“Ade,” I said, my voice softer than I intended. She looked like she had faced down demons I couldn’t even imagine, and here I was, about to drag her into another battle.
She didn’t respond, just blinked slowly, gripping the door frame like it was the only thing keeping her upright. Her eyes, usually so bright and alert, were clouded with pain or exhaustion—maybe both.
“Hey.” I moved closer, unsure of what comfort I could offer. My life was a tangle of secrets and lies, but seeing her like this, I felt the urge to untangle at least one thread. “You’ll be okay.”
“Don’t,” she didn’t back away, but I knew she wanted to. “I don’t want anyone to touch me right now. Just tell me what’s on the agenda.”
“Is this…normal?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I’ve just been good at keeping it under wraps. I didn’t want to worry you.”
Fuck. My stomach twisted into knots when she said that. “Ade…”
“The agenda, Tristan.”
“Kieran says there’s trouble.” I tried to keep my tone even, to not let the urgency bleed through and add to her burden. “We need to head out. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
“Trouble?” A flicker of that old fire sparked in her gaze. “What kind of trouble?”
“Actually, he didn’t give me details, but I can tell you that we have an appointment with the lawyer today and I think it’s probably related to that.”
“Right,” Ade said. “Well, just give me…”
But before she could finish her sentence, she was running back to the bathroom again.
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Adriana
It was another morning of getting acquainted with my toilet, my stomach rebelling against my body, my world spinning on an axis that was no longer familiar. With everything else that had happened, I hadn’t had time to worry just about how sick I felt.
I could taste bile, the bitter tang of confusion and fear. This was my life now - mornings spent on the bathroom floor, days filled with doubt and uncertainty.
Leaning back against the cold tiles, I closed my eyes. Was this what it meant to be queen? To be constantly at war with your own body, your own family? Tristan would have happily given me a puke bowl, but there was something comforting about the cold tile in the bathroom. I didn’t have to be around him, and right then, it was kind of hard to be. He was still worried about my sister, about me, about killing my dad—about everything that had happened. I couldn’t exactly blame him, but he wasn’t making it easy.
Outside the bathroom door, I could hear Tristan’s pacing—steady like the ticking of a clock, reminding me of time slipping away. A sigh left my lips making the cold tiles shiver beneath me. His assurances were like the brush of a feather; soft, but ineffective against the weight growing inside me. A queen in a gilded cage, surrounded by suspicion and betrayal. I much preferred it when all I had to do was keep the books.
The silence in between his pacing was deafening. The heavy air was punctuated by the familiar sounds of my apartment: the distant hum of the city, the creaking of old wooden beams. I felt a strange sense of longing for the simpler days before this all, when my biggest concern was concocting a plan to avoid an arranged marriage and not whether I could trust my own bloodline.
I opened my eyes, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Dark rings smiled back from under my eyes; a contrast to my pale skin. I’d gained weight, my hair had changed texture, and I looked like an absolute mess. I lifted my hand, brushing my fingers along the edges of my face, tracing the lines of exhaustion etched there. My hand drifted lower to rest on the growing swell of my belly, a stark reminder of the life blossoming within me. Two lives, actually, each tiny heartbeat a testament to the undeniable bond between Tristan and me.
Another wave of nausea hit me, pulling me back to the cold tiles as bile rose in my throat. Was this really how it was going to be? I thought about Carmen, her fiery red hair and confident stride. Could she have been the one to betray me? Did she have anything to do with my dad kidnapping me? The idea seemed ludicrous but then again...nothing was as it seemed anymore.
Shaking the thoughts away, I pushed myself off the floor, steadying myself against the sink. My reflection looked haunted. Maybe it was time to take matters into my own hands.
I shuffled back towards the bedroom, each step echoing inside me like a drumbeat - a call to arms. Tristan looked at me with concern in his eyes. “Do you want some water?”
“I can’t stomach anything,” I said.
“But you need to stay hydrated,” Tristan said, a crease of worry forming between his icy blue eyes. He had that look he got when he started to retreat into his shell, but this time I was determined not to let him off the hook.
“Hydration is the least of my worries right now, Tristan. What we need is to find out who betrayed us.”
