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“And what if he doesn’t believe you?” I asked, looking up at him.
“He may not at first,” Tristan admitted. “But we’ll have to convince him. It’s too dangerous for us to ignore. I’m not lying, Ade. I want to marry you. I want to protect you first.”
My thoughts spiraled back to the idea that someone from my family could be betraying us. It was a horrifying thought and yet undeniably real. We were surrounded by darkness, beings that lurked in the shadows with their treacherous schemes, people who wore masks of loyalty while harboring deceit underneath.
I sighed. “Maybe there’s a way to hold him off at the pass.”
“What?” he replied.
“I don’t think you’re going to like this,” I said. “But an engagement party.”
Tristan looked at me as if I’d suddenly sprouted a second head. “An engagement party?” he repeated incredulously. “In the middle of all this chaos?”
I nodded, warming to my idea as I began to see the potential benefits. “Exactly. Think about it - it’s the perfect cover. We can call everyone together under one roof, keep an eye on them while we continue our investigations.”
He frowned, clearly unconvinced. “And what happens when bullets start flying in the middle of a toast?”
“We’ll have security,” I retorted quickly, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. “Besides, it might discourage anyone from making a move if they think we’re all loved up and not suspecting anything. And before we get married, this might be the perfect way to draw anyone out.”
Tristan considered the idea, his gaze flickering with uncertainty. “And what if this doesn’t work?” he asked, concern threading through his voice.
“Then we move on to plan B,” I reassured him, a faint smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. “But we’ve got to try something, Tristan. We need to take control of this situation before it spirals any further out of our reach.”
There was a pause as he seemed to mull over my words. His blue eyes searched mine as if looking for reassurance. I watched him, seeing the cogs turning in his mind as he weighed up the potential risks against the benefits.
Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his dark blond hair. “Alright,” he conceded. “We’ll throw an engagement party. It might be dangerous, though.”
“Fun, too,” I said. “A good reminder that the Callahans and the Orsinis still rule Boston. Let’s throw the kind of party your dad loved.”
“A masquerade ball? He always had a flair for the dramatic,” Tristan replied. “But I think my mum started that tradition.”
I laughed softly, leaning into him. “A masquerade ball. That’s perfect.”
He looked down at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “You’re really into this.”
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Why not? Our lives already feel like they’re out of John Wick or something. Let’s give it some grandeur.”
“Maybe the Godfather,” he replied. His hand went up to cradle my face as his thumb brushed gently over the scratch I had gotten from the attack. The touch was so tender that it made my heart flutter despite the gravity of what we were discussing.
The silence that stretched between us was pregnant with unspoken thoughts, our fears and hopes tangled together in a mess of emotions. The idea of the engagement party was a gamble, a bold move to take control of the situation, but it was also a chance for us to show the world that not even threats against our lives could tear us apart.
“So, we’re really doing this?” Tristan broke the silence, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. His eyes were sparkling with a newfound energy, and I couldn’t help but feel encouraged by his optimism.
“I guess so,” I responded with a small laugh, my heart pounding in my chest with excitement. “Let’s give them something they won’t forget.”
“Alright,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “Let the games begin.”
Chapter Seven: Adriana
Iwaited for my sister to arrive at our favorite restaurant, La Reve. It overlooked the harbor and we used to go there a lot when we were kids. The smell of the saltwater mixed with the tantalizing aroma of fresh seafood cooking in the kitchen was comforting.
The door chimed, and Carmen walked in, her fiery red hair catching the sunlight streaming in from the window. Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on me, her lips curling into a small smile as she approached our usual corner booth.
“Hey, kiddo,” she greeted me, sliding into the seat across from me.
“Carm,” I said, my gaze studying her. She looked stunning as always, but there was a tiredness in her eyes that mirrored my own.
Before we could start talking about anything serious, our server appeared, offering us menus and a friendly smile.
