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“Someone broke into dad’s house this morning,” I started.
Kieran’s eyebrows shot up as he took in the news. “Who?” was all he said, his gaze piercing as he looked between us.
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” I replied gruffly, feeling my muscles tense in anticipation of the conversation that was about to follow.
The waitress placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of Kieran. He nodded his thanks, his hand closing around the warm ceramic mug as he kept his eyes locked on us.
I took a deep breath, holding Adriana’s hand tighter under the table. I could feel the tension radiating off her, her usual sharp wit replaced with a quiet seriousness that matched the gravity of the situation.
“Thought you scared away the Rossis, lad,” Kieran said.
“Aye,” I replied after I swallowed a sip of my own coffee. “They’re running scared. So it might not be them.”
“Then who?” Kieran asked, his gaze flicking between Adriana and me. “And why?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted, feeling a knot of frustration tighten in my gut. We were dealing with an unknown enemy, and the uncertainty was grating on my nerves. “Who, I mean. The why seems simple.”
I glanced at Adriana, who set her jaw in annoyance.
“They would have never dared come after you when my dad was alive,” I explained. “Everyone is testing my mettle now. Becoming the head of a family as powerful as mine is a transition period fraught with danger. I’m sorry you’re caught in the crossfire.”
She shook her head. “No, fuck them.”
Kieran chuckled, and I was grateful for the break in tension. “That’s the spirit, Ade,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled at her.
“Do you have any information?” I asked him.
“Nothing off the top of my head, but let me ask around. If someone is messing around with the Callahans, they need to find out soon. Because if we give them an inch…”
“Right. They’re going to come after us with everything they’ve got,” I finished for him.
Chapter Four: Adriana
We left the diner a while later, my mind spinning with everything we had discussed. As I slid into the passenger seat of Tristan’s car, I took a moment to center myself, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
Beside me, Tristan was silent as he navigated the city streets. Every so often, his hand would reach over to squeeze mine, the small gesture providing some comfort amidst the storm that was brewing.
“Well, this is a fine mess we’ve found ourselves in,” I muttered under my breath, gripping Tristan’s hand tighter. My heart pounded in my chest, a sickening dread curling in my stomach.
Despite the situation, his touch brought an immediate sense of calm washing over me. His blue eyes were intense, a soft comfort that seemed to say, we are in this together.
“We’ll figure this out,” he assured me softly, his voice carrying so much conviction that for a moment, I almost believed him. He gestured toward the front door where Kieran had disappeared as we dropped him off at his house. One of his men had brought him there but Tristan had dismissed him, wanting more time to talk to his brother. “I already have Kieran on it. I can put Liam on it too if you want, but I don’t expect any results there.”
“Do you expect any results from Kieran?” I asked him, then resisted the urge to clasp my hand over my mouth.
He glanced at me momentarily before his gaze flicked back to the road. “Kieran has his moments,” he admitted, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a half-smile. “He’s more resourceful than you give him credit for.”
I pursed my lips in thought, considering Tristan’s words. “I thought you said he was a clown.”
“He’s a clown,” Tristan said. “No question. He’s also pretty good at his job.”
My brows furrowed, contemplating his words. “I didn’t realize being a clown was his job,” I teased, attempting to lighten the conversation. Tristan’s lips twitched, working to suppress a smile.
“He’d be terrible at that. He doesn’t keep me entertained at all. He never kept Malachy entertained either.”
His words hung heavy in the air, as if Malachy’s absence was a tangible thing between us. Tristan was trying to lighten the mood, but the mention of their father brought an undeniable tension that was hard to ignore.
“He misses him,” I whispered, squeezing Tristan’s hand gently. Tristan didn’t respond, but I could see the flicker of emotions crossing his face.
