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His hand found mine, fingers lacing with a tenderness that belied the strength within them. He didn’t speak, but his grip spoke volumes. It was an apology; it was reassurance. It was everything.
“My dad won’t stop, you know,” I said, breaking the silence that had settled between us. My statement was a fact, plain and simple. “He’ll send others after us.”
Tristan’s jaw tightened, the muscle there twitching with the tension of truths unspoken. “I’m aware.” He paused, his gaze distant, as if he was viewing a complex puzzle only he could piece together. “There’s a lot we still need to untangle, Adriana.”
“Deeper how?” My heart raced at the thought. There were layers to this, layers we hadn’t peeled back yet. And every layer brought us closer to danger, to betrayal, to potential ruin.
“Let’s just say that the roots of betrayal may be closer to home than we’d like to admit,” Tristan replied cryptically. “We’ll figure it out, though. We have to, because if we don’t...” He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to.
“What does that mean?” I asked, going to stand.
Tristan sat up and turned away, running a hand through his short-cropped hair.
“There’s a rat in the Callahan operation we’ve been trying to flush out,” he said, his voice low and lethal. “It’s Killian.”
My breath caught in my throat. Killian – not just an underling, but one of Tristan’s most trusted friends. The idea twisted in my gut like a knife. “Killian? But—isn’t he your ride or die?”
“I thought the same,” Tristan interrupted, his words sharp as shattered glass. “But when I was about to lay into him, Kieran told me to back off.” He paced the room, the movement predatory, a lion caged by his own doubts. “I suspect Killian might be taking orders from Silvio Orsini.”
“Silvio?” The name fell from my lips, heavy with the weight of blood ties and betrayal. My own father, a man who had once cradled me in his arms, now orchestrating this chaos from the shadows.
Tristan nodded, his shoulders set like concrete. “It’s all too neat, Adriana. Your father’s sudden move against me, Carmen’s suspicious activities—“
“Wait.” I raised a hand, trying to piece together the fragmented puzzle he laid out before me. “Carmen? My sister is involved in this?”
He hesitated, then nodded again, his expression grim. “Yes, remember? You found discrepancies in the accounts. Funds that should have been there, gone. It looked like embezzling. Only Carmen had access. That was what made the most sense.”
“But she offered to show me her financial stuff,” I told him, though that seemed like cold comfort at the time.
“Yeah…the things you know about, Ade.”
I swallowed, my mouth dry. “But... she wouldn’t. She knows what would happen if—“ The sentence died on my lips. She knew. We all did. In our world, theft was rewarded with one thing only: death.
“Your father kidnapping you, wanting to kill me...” Tristan continued, his voice a low rumble of thunder, “I don’t have all the pieces yet, but it can’t be a coincidence.”
I struggled to keep up, to understand the web of deceit that seemed to ensnare everyone I loved. “I don’t understand,” I admitted, my voice shaking with the effort of staying calm.
“Neither do I, not entirely. But we need to figure it out.” He stepped closer, the intensity in his eyes pinning me in place. “And soon, Adriana. Or else we might not live long enough to regret it.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Tristan
We had sex again, we fell asleep again.
The sun hadn’t yet chased away the darkness of the early morning when I opened my eyes. Adriana lay beside me, her breaths even and deep. But as the weight of responsibility settled on my shoulders, I knew I couldn’t leave her alone in this apartment—not with the dangers that circled us like sharks around a life raft.
“Morning,” she murmured, her voice husky with sleep as she turned towards me. Her dark eyes searched mine, and I felt the familiar tug of war between wanting to shield her from my world and needing her there beside me.
“Listen, I can’t leave you here today,” I said, the words rough like gravel in my throat. “It’s not safe.”
She sat up, wrapping the sheets around her and frowning slightly. “So what’s the plan? Because staying cooped up in here alone doesn’t sound any better.”
I hesitated, my mind racing through the list of errands that demanded my attention. “You could come with me,” I offered reluctantly. “But it’s not going to be pretty—my day’s packed with the kind of heavy stuff you don’t want to get tangled in.”
Adriana’s lips curved in a half-smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m not made of glass, Tristan. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
“Fine,” I conceded, trying to shake off the annoyance of the situation. She was tougher than most, but that didn’t mean I liked bringing her into the lion’s den.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and looked up at me, expectant. “So, what’s on the agenda?”
