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“What do you think you’re doing?” My question was more plea than demand, my voice breaking over the nameless terror clutching my heart.
“Settle down, Orsini.” Killian’s tone held a warning, but it was lost amidst the chaos churning inside me.
“Fix this,” I begged anyone, everyone. But mostly, I begged Tristan to open those blue eyes, to be okay, to be anything but this broken figure before me, my hands on his chest, on his stomach, under his nose so I could feel his breathing. “Tristan, I’m right here. Tristan…”
The tension in the air was like a live wire, crackling with the promise of violence. I was on edge, every nerve screaming, when chaos erupted with the suddenness of a storm breaking.
Liam, the youngest Callahan with youth’s brash confidence and none of its caution, surged into motion. He’d been playing the part of the captured lamb, but now he was a wolf, all fury and fangs. With a swift, practiced movement, he had a blade in his hand—a blade that found its home in Nick Rossi’s side.
I could see him from the corner of my eye, but I was too worried about Tristan to say anything.
“Jesus, Liam!” Carmen yelled, but my voice drowned in the cacophony as Nick hit the ground, a gurgling sound escaping him, not quite dead but so close it hardly mattered.
Bullets began to fly, and everyone scattered, seeking cover where there was none. In the hail of gunfire, Gio lunged for Liam, who dodged with the slippery grace of someone who knew just how to twist away from trouble.
“Tristan!” I cried out as I saw him stir, his eyes fluttering open, those blue orbs clouded with pain and confusion. Gio turned toward him, malice in his gaze, a foot raised to silence Tristan once more.
“No!” My body moved without thought, propelled by fear and adrenaline. I shoved my way between them, taking the blow meant for Tristan. Agony exploded in my arm, a giant bruise blooming beneath the skin.
“Adriana!” Tristan’s voice, ragged with effort, cut through the mayhem. And then, with the kind of strength born of desperation, he was standing, towering over me, protective despite his own injuries.
“Stay down,” he ordered through gritted teeth, but I could barely process his words.
Liam and Gio were locked in a tangle of limbs and grunts, the floor beneath them slick with blood and spilled secrets. I tried to keep track, to make sense of the tangled web of bodies and allegiances, but it was impossible.
“Damn it, Callahan,” Gio spat, straining against Liam’s hold. But Liam was tenacious, clinging to Gio with the ferocity of someone fighting for more than just his own life.
Tristan,“ I murmured, reaching for him, needing to know he was real amid the surreal nightmare unfolding around us. His large hand enveloped mine, his grip a lifeline in the roiling sea of chaos.
“Stay with me, Adriana,” he said, and though his voice was weak, his resolve was steel. “Don’t get yourself killed. If you do, I’ll never forgive you.”
And then Gio had thrown Liam away from him, and Carmen and Kieran were fighting Killian and Diamond–I thought, I honestly wasn’t sure. But Gio had Liam’s bloody blade in his hand and he was approaching Tristan with as much purpose as I had ever seen in my life.
“Tristan, I—“ my voice caught in my throat as I saw the malice etched on Gio’s face. In that moment, I knew what I had to do.
With a quick movement, I wrapped around the cold metal of his gun tucked in the back of his pants. It was heavy, unyielding, and so very foreign in my grasp. But this was no time for hesitation; lives hung in the balance, and I couldn’t let fear dictate our fate.
Gio lunged, a blur of unchecked fury, but before he could reach Tristan, I pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed in the room, a sharp retort that seemed to freeze everyone in place. Gio’s eyes widened, surprise overtaking his features as he stumbled backward.
“Ade!” Tristan’s voice broke through the haze of my shock. “What the fuck?”
“He was coming for you, Tristan,” I said, watching the blood blossom across Gio’s shirt like a dark rose unfurling its petals. He reached for his brother Nick, both of them heavily injured as they tried to make their escape.
“Nobody moves!” Killian’s command reverberated through the room, followed by the deafening sound of a bullet slamming into the ceiling. Plaster rained down upon us as the ricochet sent everyone diving for cover.
In a swift motion, Tristan pulled us down, pushing me beneath him, his body a shield against the threat of stray bullets. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each one laced with pain and determination. We lay there for a bit, the dust settling around us.
“Are you okay?” Tristan’s voice was soft, but it cut through the silence like a knife.
“Y-yeah,” I managed to reply, the terror of the moment still clawing at my insides. “You?”
“Alive,” he said with a wry smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
We stayed like that for an eternal second, his weight both a comfort and a reminder of the danger we were still in. When the room finally stilled, and it seemed the immediate threat had passed, Tristan helped me to my feet. Our gazes locked, and without a single word, we understood each other perfectly.
Everyone’s attention was now riveted on Killian, who stood in the center of the room with an unwavering gaze. His voice cut through the chaos like a scythe, “We’re going to talk and there are going to be negotiations, whether you all want to or not.”
My heart hammered against my ribcage as I watched Killian’s expression harden. Before anyone could react, his arm lifted, steady as a rock, gun pointed directly at Diamond. A split second later, the sharp crack of a single shot pierced the silence, and Diamond crumpled to the ground, a lifeless heap. Blood pooled rapidly, staining the expensive carpet beneath him.
