Chapter Three Tristan
Iwanted to kill Silvio Orsini so much.
But…this was not the time.
The air in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Silvio was sitting across from me, his suit pristine as he leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. I stood my ground, blood soaking through my shirt like a bad omen, my heart pounding a steady rhythm of impending doom.
“Malachy did what he had to do,” I said, my voice low and controlled—a stark contrast to the chaos that churned inside me. “He wasn’t perfect, but he made sure I never wanted for anything.”
“Providing for you doesn’t excuse the man’s sins, Tristan,” Silvio retorted, the edge in his words sharp enough to draw blood. “Honor is earned by actions, not by filling a bank account with dirty money.”
“Is that right?” I shot back, clenching my fists at my sides. “And where was your honor when you negotiated to have your daughter sleep with a Callahan?”
“It might’ve been foolish, but I thought she would wait until the wedding night. In any case, Adriana deserved better than what you gave her,” he countered without missing a beat. “You knew she was carrying your child before you even considered making it right.”
A muscle ticked in my jaw, as I fought to keep my composure. I didn’t want to think about those sleepless nights, the way fear had clawed at my insides when I realized Adriana was pregnant. The future we could’ve had—but now, it all hung by a thread.
“Things aren’t always black and white, Silvio,” I muttered, looking away. My hands were stained—not just with my own blood, but with the murky shades of my past decisions. “Life’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“Complicated?” Silvio’s voice rose, a rare crack in his composed facade. “You call abandoning the woman you claim to love ‘complicated’?”
I glared at him, feeling the heat of my own anger matching his. “I stepped back because I loved her,” I said through gritted teeth. “Because what we are—what our families are—it’s a noose around her neck. You think I wanted to drag Adriana deeper into this mess? You’re the one who wanted to bribe me to get away from her and now you’re angry I pulled away?”
“I’m angry you hurt her. I’m angry your presence continues to hurt her,” Silvio said. “And love…”
I waited for him, even though what I really, really wanted to do was kill him.
He scoffed with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You’re just like your father, Tristan. To him, your mother was nothing but an incubator for the next generation of Callahans. You’ve already proven that this is what Adriana was to you.”
That hit a nerve. He might as well have slapped me across the face. My hand twitched, the urge to retaliate burned through my veins like wildfire. But I knew that wouldn’t solve anything—not here, not now.
“Adriana is more than that, and you damn well know it,” I snapped, each word laced with venom. “Don’t you dare reduce her to such a vile role in your petty attempt to wound me.”
“Petty?” The lines on Silvio’s forehead deepened, his jaw set stubbornly. “I’m fighting for my daughter’s future, something you seem to have cast aside too easily.”
“Her future...” I echoed, my voice trailing off. Could I even promise her one, amidst all this bloodshed and betrayal? I’d tried to protect her from the darkness that tainted my life, but in doing so, had I merely handed her over to it?
“Her happiness should be your priority,” Silvio continued, his tone softening only slightly. “And if you can’t give her that, then you’ve no right to keep her tied to you.”
“Trust me,” I replied, meeting his gaze squarely, “no one knows that better than I do.”
“Then maybe you’ll understand why I can’t just let things slide,” Silvio said, his voice a mix of steel and sorrow. “No father would.”
I nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. It was true, after all. If I were in his shoes, I’d probably be doing the same damn thing. The thought of killing him had crossed my mind more than once during our conversation—my fingers itching for the cold kiss of the trigger against my skin. But looking at him now, seeing that familiar pain etched into his features, I knew I wouldn’t act on it—not yet, not while I was still reeling from the punches life had thrown at me.
“Silvio…” I started, but before I could continue, my phone vibrated in my pocket. A buzzing reminder of a world that refused to pause even when you needed a damn breather. I pulled it out only to glance at the caller ID, then shoved it back with a curse under my breath. Sean could wait; this couldn’t.
“Your empire is calling,” Silvio observed dryly, raising an eyebrow as he noted my dismissal of the call.
“Let it burn,” I muttered. “We’re not done here.”
“Looks like we both have pressing matters,” Silvio replied, his own phone starting to ring. He pulled it from his coat pocket, a sleek piece of technology that seemed at odds with the old-world charm he carried around like a shield.
“Give me a second,” he said, answering the call. His demeanor shifted almost instantly, the warmth draining from his face as he listened, his eyes narrowing. He held up a hand to silence me, but the gesture was unnecessary—I had already gone silent, watching him like a hawk.
“Trouble,” I repeated, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. Trouble was my constant companion, lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce at the first sign of weakness. I sighed deeply, knowing whatever awaited me would demand my immediate attention.
“Seems like we both have fires to put out,” I acknowledged, pushing myself up to stand despite the protest of my wounds. I looked down at my blood-soaked shirt, the red spreading like a grim badge of honor. “But this isn’t over, Sil. Not by a long shot. Can you get Killian and the Rossis out of here before you leave? Please? And next time, a phone call would do.”
Silvio’s expression hardened as he ended the call, his gaze pinning me in place. “A phone call would have saved you a lot of trouble when you decided not to honor your part of the deal,” he retorted, keeping his voice equally low. He stood up, the scraping of his chair against the floor echoing ominously in the room. “But it seems we’re beyond trusting each other with simple courtesy.”
I held my ground as he came closer, the scent of his cologne wafting in the air between us—clean and crisp like a freshly pressed suit. Despite the tension, a part of me relaxed seeing him stand. Sil was still strong despite his age, and that strength was a blessing and a curse.
“Get them out before I change my mind and have my men shoot them,” I told Silvio.
He grimaced, but he cocked his head. “We’re just getting started. And I’ll get them out, but I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m aware,” I replied.
“We’ll speak again tonight,” Silvio promised, striding toward the door. His steps echoed in an authoritative cadence across the polished floors of my office. “You can count on it, Tristan.”
I watched him leave the living room, his resolve sounding like a death knell in my mind. I leaned back against my desk, feeling the cold marble seeping through the blood-soaked fabric of my shirt. The pain was secondary now — a dull echo compared to the war being waged within me.
“She’s more than just an incubator...” I whispered to the empty room. I could still hear those harsh words ricocheting off the walls, their sting as potent as when they’d first left Silvio’s lips.
My hand reached for my pocket again, pulling out the phone I’d ignored earlier. Sean had left a message—it was urgent, so I called him back straightaway.
I fished the phone from the pocket of my jeans, its weight a reminder of the burdens it often bore. The screen lit up with Sean’s name, and my thumb pressed the call button before I had time to dread what I’d hear.
“Tristan,” his voice came through, strained with an undercurrent of fear I wasn’t used to hearing from one of my most trusted men. “We’ve got a situation at The Crooked Thorn.”
“Damn it.” My heart hammered against my ribcage, not in fear but in frustration. “Talk to me, Sean. What kind of situation?”
“Can’t explain over the phone. It’s bad, Tristan. Real bad. I would’ve called Kieran but—“
“But what?” I pressed, my patience running thin.
“He’s not picking up. No one is.”
Yeah, because we’d all been ambushed by Orsini, and fucking Killian was on their side now even though he was supposed to be the person my other men went to. This was so fucked.
“Sean,” I said, my voice steady despite the unease coiling in my gut, “everyone’s hands are full. You need to spill it now.”
There was a pause, the kind that told me he was weighing his words, deciding how much to say. “Boss, you’ve got to see it with your own eyes. I can’t lay this out over the phone.”
“Fine.” My reply was clipped, a reflection of the frustration gnawing at the edges of my patience. “Hold the fort.”
A heavy sigh came through the receiver. It was clear he knew the gravity of what he was asking. “Will do, but hurry. And…I don’t want to tell you what to do, but you might want to bring your brothers.”
The line went dead, and I was left with the echo of urgency in my ears. Looking down, I noticed the stark red blooming across my white shirt, a vivid reminder of the violence from earlier in the evening. I’d have to change before heading out—couldn’t show up to a mess looking like I’d brought one with me.
And I also had to make sure I wasn’t going to just drop dead.
So I might have to take care of that first…but before I did any of that, I needed to make sure Adriana was alright.
I just had to stay alive long enough to do it.