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“I’m going to the Crooked Thorn to take care of things there,” he said. “You stay here and lay low.”
“Wait. Is it happening tonight?”
“No, just the planning of it right now. I’ll be fine, Adriana,” he assured me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
I stared at him. “But they’ll know it’s the Callahans.”
“That’s the point, Ade,” he said. “Go in. Go home. Get rest. And don’t worry about any of this.”
I got out of the car, but I couldn’t listen to his instructions. I had no idea how it was possible for me not to worry about any of this. I stood in the living room and watched his car disappear down the road, my heart sinking further with every passing second. This was the life I’d married into, a life of blood, bullets, and betrayal. And now I was bringing our unborn children into this world. I needed to ensure their safety, but how? The house was a fortress in itself, but could it withstand the wrath of an infuriated Rossi or an act of revenge?
After Tristan left, I wandered around the mansion aimlessly, my mind heavy with thoughts and uncertainties. Eventually, I found myself in front of the master bedroom and hesitated before pushing the door open. Our room…our sanctuary from the madness outside.
Inside, the moonlight cast long shadows, turning the familiar surroundings into an eerie landscape. My dress felt uncomfortable, constricting around my growing belly, so I changed into a loose kaftan before sinking into our king-sized bed. The cool silk sheets were a sharp contrast to the turmoil that raged within me.
I must have dozed off because when I woke up, I noticed the room was awash with the pale early light of dawn. Tristan wasn’t back yet and worry gnawed at me like a persistent rat. The mansion was silent except for the distant sound of the city.
The room was dark and quiet, a single ray of early morning light seeping through a crack in the heavy drapes. I fumbled for the switch, my heart pounding as the room flooded with a harsh artificial glow.
There, on the dresser, lay my phone. I reached for it and checked the time - 5:12 AM. No missed calls or messages. I set the phone back down as a knot of anxiety twisted in my stomach. This was his world, but it was not mine - it wasn’t the world I wanted for our children either.
Not the mafia part. We had both been born into that, and there was no way for me to get out of it. But being a woman, I had been lucky. I didn’t have to do fieldwork. And when I was a little girl, I’d had no idea what my dad was doing when he was out late.
But now that I was an adult, and Tristan was out and in danger, I could only think about how much I hated this as I cradled my growing belly.
I took a deep, shuddering breath and told myself to get a grip.
I grabbed my laptop from my nightstand and put it on my lap, booting up my accounting software.
Adriana Orsini, the dutiful actuary. The one who crunched numbers and balanced the books for a crime family without blinking an eye.
But today wasn’t just about balancing the books. I decided to pull up the financial records of every single person in our organization. From the lowest soldier to the highest capo. Nothing could be overlooked, not when a traitor lurked in our midst.
I delved into the records, scrutinizing every transaction, every deposit, and withdrawal. Hours slipped away like minutes as I worked tirelessly, oblivious to the growing light outside or the still absent Tristan.
I made notes of everything I found, but there was nothing; no suspicious patterns, no unaccounted income or expenses. Each member’s financial standing was clean, almost too clean.
Frustrated, I closed the laptop and let it slip onto the bed. I rubbed my eyes, feeling the early signs of a headache creeping in. The room was too still, too silent without Tristan’s presence. His side of the bed was cold, untouched.
The sun began to rise outside, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. With it came the harsh reality that hit me like a punch to the gut; our life had been turned upside down ever since we announced our pregnancy to the families. This was not how I imagined raising our children.
Rising from the bed with newfound resolve, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I slipped out of our room, moving quietly through the mansion. The house was eerily silent in the early morning hours, save for the occasional distant hum of traffic. Tension hung palpably in the air, settling like a heavy blanket around my shoulders as I moved through the mansion’s dimly lit hallways.
If someone in the family was feeding information to one of the Rossis, then maybe the answers were right here.
And I was going to be the one to find them out.
Chapter Ten: Tristan
Ileaned against the cool concrete wall of the pub, my arms folded across my chest, watching Killian toss back a shot of whiskey like it was water. The dim light from the overhead lamps cast shadows that danced across his face.
This was it. This was when I was going to find out who was feeding information to the Rossis, who was putting my future wife and my unborn children in danger.
I watched the three men I had grown up with mull around the pub. I didn’t think any one of them had it in them, but I was obviously wrong.
This had to be done.
