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“Are you alright?” Carmen’s voice reached me through the haze of fear clouding my thoughts. I managed a feeble nod, but the dread in my eyes betrayed the facade of composure I tried to maintain.
“Tristan...” I began, my voice barely more than a whisper that struggled to traverse the room’s expanse.
“He’ll be back soon,” Carmen’s words were meant to reassure me, but beneath her brave front, I sensed the same undercurrent of anxiety that gripped me. “He always comes back.”
I nodded again, attempting a smile for her sake, yet it faltered under the weight of nausea threatening to overwhelm me.
“Let’s sit down,” Carmen suggested gently, guiding me towards the couch. The chill of the leather against my skin offered little solace for our frayed nerves.
“Everything will be fine,” she asserted firmly, more as a declaration than mere reassurance. With resolve etched into her features, she grabbed her phone from her purse and dialed 911.
Normally, that would have been verboten, but right now, we needed all the help we could get. We needed reinforcements urgently; our safety depended on it.
But as she attempted to make the call, frustration etched lines on her face—the phone refused to connect. No signal. A sinking feeling settled in my stomach as I recognized this sinister tactic—a signal jammer was at play. Familiar with these deceitful maneuvers and their implications all too well, I understood that someone was manipulating us by severing our lifeline.
Carmen cursed softly under her breath at this unforeseen obstacle. While the Callahans braced for confrontation, I berated myself for naively assuming things would proceed smoothly in this treacherous world we navigated together.
“We need a new strategy,” Carmen declared resolutely when our eyes met. A shared determination ignited between us; surrender was not an option for Orsini women—we thrived amidst adversity.
“You guys are right,” Liam said. “We need a new strategy.”
Liam had been a silent shadow, hovering at the edges of the unfolding drama. But now, as Tristan and Kieran’s footsteps faded down the hall, their urgent voices muffled by distance, he began to pace like a caged animal—back and forth, back and forth.
“Our priority is uncovering who obstructed our communications; then we ensure they rue the day they dared cross us,” I interjected firmly despite the fact that I was sure the pallor of my complexion betrayed just how scared and sick I felt.
“Tristan needs me,” he muttered under his breath, his youth painfully obvious in the stark lines of worry creasing his forehead. Each pass brought him closer to the door, his resolve hardening with every step.
“Hey,” I said softly, trying to catch his eye. “They can handle themselves. Let’s stay put and think this through, okay?”
He ignored me, hand reaching for the doorknob, ready to burst into the chaos outside. Before I could stop him, the lawyer was there—a man whose name I knew, Mr. Diamond, but had never really seen. Now, I saw him clearly: not just a suit, but muscle and sinew beneath it, surprising in its presence.
His very presence made my heart race with fear.
Fuck.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the lawyer growled, grabbing Liam by the collar and yanking him back with such force that the younger Callahan stumbled.
“Let me go!” Liam protested, fighting against the iron grip. But Diamond was immovable, a mountain of unexpected strength.
“Nobody leaves,” Mr. Diamond stated, his voice a low thrum of authority as he pushed Liam away from the door and twisted the lock with a decisive click. His smirk was almost amused as he turned to face us, the tension in the room thick enough to choke on. “Now, you three didn’t think you were going anywhere, did you?” Mr. Diamond taunted, leaning back against the door with casual menace.
I exchanged a glance with Carmen, one that spoke without words—we were in this together, whether we liked it or not. It was a standoff, and we were woefully unprepared. But we were also Orsinis, and surrender wasn’t in our blood. We’d find a way out of this; we had to.
“Think again,” I shot back, my voice steady even as my heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs. “We’re full of surprises.”
Carmen nodded, her dark eyes smoldering with fierce intelligence. I was already sizing up Mr. Diamond, calculating our next move.
This might be a game of survival, but we weren’t out of moves yet. Not by a long shot.
And if I had to be the one to take him down…well, so be it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Tristan
The air turned thick as Kieran and I rounded the corner of the sprawling Callahan estate. We had our guns on us, of course, and it didn’t take us long to find the intruders.
Not that they were making themselves invisible.
There they were, like vultures perched on our gates, standing right by the door as if we had just invited them in—Nick Rossi with that smug grin, his mountain of a brother Gio looming behind him, and Killian O’Hara, the betrayal personified.
