Chapter Five Adriana
Tristan was hurt…again.
The air in the Callahan estate felt like a vice around my chest, each breath reminding me of Tristan’s absence and the thick tension that lingered like smoke after a fire.
And now I sat across from my father as if his actions hadn’t almost killed the father of my unborn children.
And there he was; Silvio Orsini himself, in an opulent room that suddenly seemed more like a beautiful cage than a home. We’d moved back into the living room, and he sat here like this place was his fucking own.
The light from the chandelier above us cast long shadows across his face, making him appear more like a statue than my father.
“Ade…”
“Save it,” I said, my hand on my bump. “Did you always know Diamond would end up dead?” I asked, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.
He shrugged, a casual gesture that didn’t feel like it fit at all with the weight of the topic. “That wasn’t the plan, Adriana. But let’s be honest, it’s hardly a loss.” He paused, his eyes softening just a fraction. “I never wanted you or Carmen to get hurt.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, a black shirt clinging to my skin and leggings hugging my legs like a second skin. I should have been angry, furious even, but anger was a luxury I couldn’t afford—not when I had so much at stake. If my dad thought he was losing me again, he might drug and kidnap me once more and I didn’t want to deal with that.
“I’m so thirsty. Can I drink your water?” I asked, a deliberate attempt to steer the conversation into safer waters, to probe the depths of his mood and intentions without diving headfirst into dangerous currents.
“Sure,” he replied, sliding the clear bottle across the polished wood table between us. His answers were short, deflective, as if he was holding back a tide of secrets with every word he didn’t say.
I leaned back, trying to read the lines etched in his face, searching for a hint of the father I knew beneath the layers of the mafia kingpin he was. Of course, I had always known this; I knew who my father was, I did his fucking books.
He was a fucking brutal man.
I knew that.
And yet…he had always been a good father to me, a kind man. My brain couldn’t come to grips with the odd contradiction. There was something different about him tonight, a guardedness that set off alarm bells in my head. The nagging suspicion that had been gnawing at my gut tightened its grip.
“Everything alright, Daddy?” I ventured, watching him closely.
“Always,” he replied, his tone smooth as silk but with an edge that could slice through bone. I knew then that I was right to be wary. Whatever game we were playing, the rules had changed, and I needed to figure them out fast if I was going to protect what mattered most.
“Excuse me,” I murmured, pushing back my chair with a grace that didn’t betray the turmoil brewing inside me. “I need a bit of fresh air.”
Dad nodded, his gaze following me for a moment before returning to his own contemplations. The night was cool as I stepped out into the estate’s gardens, the darkness wrapping around me like a cloak. My hand instinctively went to my belly, where our future—Tristan’s and mine—grew stronger each day.
As I walked, the neatly trimmed hedges and flowering blooms felt like witnesses to my silent fear. The garden was usually a place of solace, but tonight, it was just another gilded cage. With every step, I could feel the eyes of the estate on my back, watching, calculating. But they couldn’t see the storm swirling in my mind.
Thoughts of Tristan battered against my resolve. Where was he now? I knew he was going to The Crooked Thorn, but I hoped he had gotten some medical attention.
Was he safe? Our twins kicked, as if sensing their mother’s distress. It was the kind of vulnerability I hated—a pregnant woman caught in the crossfire of mafia machinations. It made me feel exposed, a weakness to be exploited.
The moon cast long shadows across the path, and I willed myself to absorb its calm. I had to think clearly, act decisively. Tristan would have wanted me to be strong, to protect not only myself but also the lives we had created together.
The isolation of being in the heart of the Callahan estate, surrounded by power plays and hidden threats, weighed heavily on me. I was the daughter of one of the most feared men in the underworld, yet at this moment, I’d never felt more alone.
“Come on, Ade,” I whispered to myself. “You’re stronger than this.”
My decision was forming, crystalizing with every breath. I couldn’t stay here, trapped in luxury while danger loomed over us all. I had to make a move, create distance between myself and this place, for the sake of our family’s future.
I wasn’t exactly abandoning them all; Carmen, Kieran and Liam could take care of themselves. But only I could take care of the twins, I thought, my hand on my belly.
With a determined stride, I left the false comfort of the garden behind, my mind already racing ahead to the next steps I had to take. There was no turning back now.
I hurried through the silent estate, my footsteps echoing on marble floors that felt too cold, too unforgiving. The night was a cloak I wrapped around myself, using its cover to keep hidden from prying eyes that never seemed to sleep. My father’s men were always watching, and so were Tristan’s, but tonight, I needed to be a ghost.
Reaching the garage, I paused, hand hovering over the doorknob, heart hammering in my chest. This wasn’t just any door—it was the threshold between loyalty and betrayal, the past and an uncertain future.
Right outside, my father had parked his car.
“Damn it,” I muttered, steeling myself. The click of the lock breaking the silence felt like a gunshot in the quiet.
Inside, the air smelled of oil and leather, a scent that reminded me of my dad. He’d brought one of his vintage cars, which surprised me. But fuck it. There sat his vintage pride and joy, and I knew it was the car he brought to important meetings when he wanted to show off.
The Mustang was open, and the keys were in the center console.
Sliding behind the wheel, I closed the door with a soft click, not daring to make more noise than necessary. The interior wrapped around me, familiar yet foreign, as if it belonged to another life—one I had to leave behind.
With trembling hands, I inserted the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life, a beast waking from slumber, and I couldn’t help but flinch. This was it—the line was crossed. Once I drove out of here, there was no unringing this bell.
I eased the car out of its space, headlights off, moving on instinct and memory. The estate loomed large around me, a fortress of secrets and lies, but my thoughts were only of Tristan, his face etched in my mind’s eye, and the future we both yearned for.
The gates opened automatically, sensors recognizing the car even if they could not recognize my intentions. As I drove past them, out into the open road, the rush of adrenaline hit me like a tidal wave. Fear followed close behind, whispering of the consequences that would surely come.
But above all else, there was clarity—a singular focus on the man who held my heart and the children we would soon bring into this tangled world. For them, I would face anything. For them, I would drive into the night, away from the Callahan estate and toward a hope that flickered dimly on the horizon.
“Alright,” I breathed, a promise and a prayer. “Tristan, just…hold on.”
The road stretched before me, an endless ribbon of asphalt cutting through the night. My phone vibrated with a persistence that grated on my nerves, but I ignored it, focusing on the hum of the tires against the road and the steady beat of my heart.
“Later,” I muttered to myself as the screen lit up again, casting a ghostly glow over the car’s interior. Tristan’s name flashed briefly, followed by Carmen’s. They were both reaching out, tendrils of our intertwined lives trying to pull me back into the fray I was desperate to escape, if only for a moment.
I needed this time—time to think, to breathe, to strategize. It wasn’t just about my own safety anymore; it was about the twins, too. Their lives, innocent and unformed, depended on the choices I made now. The gravity of that responsibility lay heavy on my shoulders, a mantle I bore willingly for the love of them and their father.
I turned onto a narrower path, the dense woods swallowing up the world behind me. The safe house was close now, the secret sanctuary Tristan had brought me to when he had first taken me, right after I told him I was pregnant.
People still didn’t know about it, but I could remember every street that led there. The cabin was nestled among the trees, it was a place where we could be ourselves, away from prying eyes and the weight of our last names.
As I parked the car in the sheltered grove near the cabin, I couldn’t help but recall those early days with Tristan. It felt like it had happened so long ago…now, those memories seemed like another lifetime, one that was slipping further away with each passing second.
I killed the engine, the silence of the forest enveloping me like a shroud. For a moment, I remained in the car, my hands gripping the wheel, gathering strength. Then, with a resolve that surprised even me, I stepped out into the chill night air and headed toward the cabin, my sanctuary in the storm.
The gravel crunched under my boots as I approached the cabin, my eyes scanning the surrounding woods with practiced vigilance. A sense of urgency propelled me forward, even as the weight of my unborn twins reminded me to move with care. Tristan’s training kicked in, and despite my condition, I moved methodically around the cabin’s perimeter, checking windows, doors, and any potential vulnerabilities.
I was alone, but the lessons Tristan had imparted during sun-soaked afternoons felt present, like whispers on the wind guiding me. The padlock on the shed remained untouched, and all the windows were secure. With a final glance over my shoulder, I stepped inside and locked the door behind me.
The familiar scent of pine and the faint hint of a wood fire long since extinguished greeted me. It was a comforting embrace from the past, but comfort was a luxury I could ill afford now. My heart raced, not just from the physical exertion but from the whirlwind of thoughts that demanded my attention.
“Okay, Ade,” I murmured to myself, attempting to steady my breathing. “Think.”
I sank into the worn couch, allowing myself a precious moment to gather my thoughts. First things first: Tristan. His safety was the most important. Without him, the foundation of our carefully constructed world would crumble. I needed to know he was out of harm’s way, that he was somewhere secure, plotting his next move.
Next, the threat level. Information was power, and right now, I was sorely lacking. We’d been careful, always steps ahead of the game, but this...This felt different. More personal. More dangerous. If I was going to devise a strategy to protect us—my little family—I’d need to understand what we were up against.
As I sat there, the quiet of the cabin closed in around me like a vice. But it was a vice I welcomed. It was here, in this isolated haven, that I would draw upon every resource I had. I would be the shield for my family. For Tristan. For our children.
“Whatever storm is coming,” I whispered into the stillness, “we’re ready for you.”
But I didn’t mean it. Whatever we were up against, I had a feeling it was only just starting. And things were only going to get worse before they got better.