Chapter Thirteen Tristan
Before the sun even thought to peek over the horizon, I was staring out the window of our safe house. The city below lay hushed and unsuspecting, a stark reminder that calm can be the most deceitful fa?ade. My mind churned with the weight of treachery concealed within my own ranks, an acidic burn in my gut that hadn’t settled since…my dad had died? I had turned Adriana down? I’d found out she was pregnant?
At this point, I had no idea.
Adriana slept soundly, unaware of me getting up and looking out the window.
A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. Kieran’s head popped around the corner, his face ashen in the predawn gloom. “We need to talk,” he murmured.
I glanced back at Adriana, her chest rising and falling evenly in sleep. Trust had never come easy for her, but she’d earned her place by my side. “Whatever it is, you can say it in front of her.”
Adriana seemed to sense we were talking about her, because she sat up and yawned. “Good morning to you, too,” she said, a little too happily.
Kieran hesitated but then stepped inside, the ghost of daylight spilling across the floorboards behind him. “There’s been movement—unusual activity from our own people. It smells like betrayal, Tristan.”
The word snaked through the room, settling between us with the heaviness of impending doom.
“Killian,” I found myself muttering grimly, the name tasting like bile. “I mean, he’s already betrayed us. We…”
“No, something new,” Kieran said. “Something worse.”
I swallowed hard against the sour sting of suspicion. “Okay. Let’s talk,” I said. “Get up whenever, Ade. I’ll make sure you have some breakfast ready.”
“You’re the best,” Adriana said, pulling the duvet over her head again.
Kieran laughed softly, but his expression schooled as soon as he saw me. Leaving the bedroom, I busied myself with the ritual of breakfast prep, slicing bread and frying eggs with robotic precision. Each crack of the eggshell was another crack in the foundation we’d built.
Kieran leaned against the counter, watching me work the stove. Details were scant, but the message clear: we were standing on a landmine of disloyalty, every step liable to be our last.
“Set up a meeting,” I said as I watched him make the coffee. “The core security team. All of us.”
“Not Killian, though.”
“Are you stupid?”
Kieran’s eyes widened. “Right, I got it. Ronan, Sean and Ray.”
“Aye, there you go,” I said, feeling a little bad for snapping.
Kieran nodded and left, his footsteps echoing down the hall. I turned off the stove and plated the eggs. Adriana should eat before the storm hit.
“Tristan,” she murmured, her voice rough with sleep as she wrapped her arms around my waist from behind. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing for you to worry about,” I lied, turning to press a kiss to her forehead. “Just some business.”
“Be careful,” she whispered, her dark eyes searching mine.
“I will,” I promised, though we both knew this was a promise that could shatter at any moment.
Night had fallen by the time my boys gathered in the pub. The tension was thick, a silent storm brewing among us. I sat at the head of the table, deliberately projecting calm I didn’t feel. Ronan was here, along with Sean and Ray. Killian’s absence was a shadow none of us could ignore.
We made conversation for a bit, talking about the attack on the Crooked Thorn. Luckily, all their families were unharmed, and the attack had only shaken them. I’d gotten some much needed clarity from Sean: someone had shot into the pub, shattering a few windows. Then another person–a punter, someone we didn’t know–had ordered drink after drink while rattling off important names to our mostly uninvolved bartender; wives, siblings, mistresses, children.
Then he had left, saying that the next time, they wouldn’t be shooting at the pub.
Xander, our bartender, had told Sean in a hurry, but by that time, the punter had already sped away on a motorcycle. He had paid in cash and was extremely inconspicuous. Definitely Irish-American; tall, white, blond, middle aged, handsome but not too handsome.
So Xander’s input was useless, but the punter had mentioned Xander’s husband’s name, so he was understandably shaken too. Sean had given him a few days off after everything had happened, and now one of the other bartenders was covering all his shifts.
But all of that didn’t matter. We weren’t there to talk about that. “Why isn’t Killian here?” Ray finally asked after taking a long sip of his beer.
I rubbed my temple. Kieran looked at me, then I watched his gaze follow someone inside.
“Liam is here,” Kieran said. “With the redhead.”
“Good for him,” I said, barely looking up at our little brother. “Lads, I’m sorry to say this, but Killian’s gone over to Silvio Orsini.”
It was like throwing a match into dry kindling, waiting to see which way the fire would spread.
“What?” Ray spat, his fists clenching on the table.
“Breached our defenses. I guess Silvio needed someone on the inside on his side so he could break into our house. He had…well, let’s just say he was very interested in talking. And things turned a little violent.” I continued, keeping my gaze fixed on each man in turn. Ronan’s face remained impassive, but his eyes...his eyes flickered just enough to prick at my alertness.
“Are we going to let this slide?” Sean asked, his voice taut with barely contained rage.
“No,” I replied, feeling the weight of leadership heavy on my shoulders. “But we act smart. No rash decisions.”
I could almost hear their thoughts churning, the trust that bound us being tested. I wished I could hear their thoughts, but I definitely couldn’t. I couldn’t ascertain anything from the way they were looking at me except that they were angry.
“Secure everything,” I ordered. “And trust no one outside this room.”
The nods were solemn, the mission clear. But there was a mole among us, someone feeding our secrets to the enemy, and until I knew who, we were all dancing on the edge of a knife.
“Should we just off Killian, then?” Ray’s voice cut through the thick air of unease. He was a blunt instrument, always ready to swing.
Kieran and I exchanged a glance.
“Killian will get what’s coming to him,” I assured them, “but not yet. Timing is everything.”
“Boss,” Ronan interjected, his voice steady but his brow furrowed, “if we wait too long, it’ll look like weakness.”
“Or strategy,” I countered, locking eyes with him. “We’re not to be hasty. That’s what they expect from us.” My voice was even, but inside, every nerve felt like a live wire, humming with the tension of potential betrayal.
“We’ve got to be surgical about this,” Kieran finally said, breaking the silence that had settled. His tone was calm but carried an edge that made everyone at the table sit up a little straighter. “Precision over brute force.”
“Right,” I agreed. “We tighten our circle, keep our eyes open, and when the time comes, we strike hard and fast. No mercy.”
“Understood,” they all murmured in agreement.
I stood up, signaling the end of the discussion for now. They needed to see me composed, in control. The Irish Rover pub was our ground, where we made the rules. But tonight, it felt more like a battlefield than ever before.
I stepped out into the cool night air, the noise from inside The Irish Rover muffled as the door swung shut behind me. Liam was already there, the glow of his spliff lighting up his face in the darkness.
“Thought you could use a drag,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up as he offered the spliff to me.
“Cheers.” I took it, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke fill my lungs before passing it to Kieran, who had walked out right after me. We stood in silence for a moment, the familiar ritual momentarily bridging the gap between us.
“That new girl of yours,” I began, nodding towards the pub, “she seems...spirited.”
Liam chuckled, his eyes following my gaze through the pub’s foggy window. “She’s a handful, but worth the trouble.” He shrugged off the comment as easily as he shrugged off everything else.
“Speaking of trouble,” Kieran interjected, “how are you holding up? After Diamond?”
I knew he meant “after Dad died, you almost saw Tristan die, and then you watched one of Tristan’s closest friends shoot a man to death in front of you after you’d been kidnapped and bound”, but he couldn’t exactly say that.
Liam’s carefree mask slipped just a fraction before he regained his composure. “Aye, I’m alright,” he said, a hint of steel in his voice as he glanced back at the pub, where the redhead was. “Got more important things on my mind.”
“Like keeping your head straight?” I pressed, not quite ready to let him dodge the question.
“Exactly,” he replied with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
I passed the spliff back to Liam and leaned against the brick wall of the pub. “We’ve got to talk about what’s going on with our men,” I said, my tone grim. “There’s been too many betrayals lately.”
“Malachy would have made an example out of them by now,” Kieran mentioned, his voice low.
“Malachy wasn’t afraid to rule with an iron fist,” I acknowledged, rolling my shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension building there. “But I don’t want to lead the same way he did. Yet, if that’s what it takes...”
“Betrayal can’t go unpunished,” Kieran agreed, his gaze sharp.
“Right,” I said firmly. “We can’t afford any more stabs in the back. It’s not just about retribution. This is about survival. Our name, our family—it hangs in the balance.”
“Whatever you need us to do, we’re with you,” Liam said, tossing the spent spliff to the ground and stamping it out with his boot. The flicker of loyalty in his eyes was a small comfort in a sea of uncertainty.
I looked at him for what felt like a long time. “I wish you wouldn’t be. Can’t you go to university instead?”
Liam laughed, the sound hollow in the quiet night air. “And what? Leave you two to run this circus on your own?” He shook his head, the smile dropping from his face as quickly as it had appeared. “You’re stuck with me. For better or worse.”
“Consider it,” I said, my gaze serious. If anything happened to Liam...I couldn’t bear the thought of it.
But Liam was a Callahan through and through. He had that same stubborn determination etched into his very being, the fiery spirit that refused to back down. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly, his jaw set in defiance.
I sighed, glancing at Kieran. He was silent, but I could tell he shared my concerns about our baby brother. We had fought so hard to keep Liam out of the family business, to give him a chance for a life beyond the violence and deceit that the underworld promised. But it seemed like fate had other plans.
Something for future me to worry about.
There was already plenty to worry about for now.
“Good,” I said. “Because this is bigger than any one of us,” I finished. And as I stood there with my brothers, the weight of leadership settled on my shoulders like a mantle I was born to wear—even if it chafed.
“Maybe we should have the capos spy on each other,” Liam suggested, breaking into my tumultuous thoughts.
Kieran snorted, shaking his head. “That’s a crazy plan.”
Yet, as much as Kieran’s skepticism rang true, something about Liam’s suggestion ignited a spark of possibility in my mind. I hesitated, mulling over the angles. “Actually...there might be something to that.”
“Really?” Liam’s eyebrows shot up, a mix of surprise and pride lighting up his features.
“Go inside. Get Sean for me,” I instructed him, deciding on a course of action. Without a word of complaint, Liam turned and made his way back into the dimly lit pub.
As the door swung shut behind him, I considered the implications of this strategy. It was risky, but it was also unexpected—and in our line of work, the element of surprise was often the most valuable weapon.
“You’re going to listen to the kid?” Kieran asked, his brows shooting up.
“He has his moments.”
Kieran leaned against the brick wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fuck, alright.”
Moments later, Liam returned with Sean in tow. He still had a drink in his hand. His expression was wary as he approached, sensing that this impromptu meeting was more than just a casual chat.
“Tristan, what’s this about?” Sean asked, his voice steady despite the obvious curiosity. “I was just catching up with the boys.”
“I know, and this won’t take long,” I said.
“Yes, boss?”
“Sean, your loyalty isn’t in question,” I began, locking eyes with him. “I need someone with your insight to keep an eye on Ronan. He moves, you shadow him. Discreetly.”
“Ronan?” Sean’s face registered shock before he schooled his expression back into one of neutrality.
I didn’t want to tell him that we had already tested them all–except Ronan himself, since he had been away on holiday. So I just needed to cover all my bases.
“Discretion is key. We can’t tip him off. Just observe, report back to me directly—anything out of the ordinary,” I explained, feeling the weight of each word press against the night air.
“Why are you doubting Ronan?” Sean said.
“I’m not doubting him,” I replied. “I’m just covering all my bases.”
Sean finished his drink, raising his brows.
“Discretion is key. We can’t tip him off. Just observe, report back to me directly—anything out of the ordinary,” I explained, feeling the weight of each word press against the night air.
“Understood,” Sean said after a beat, a firm nod sealing his commitment to the task.
“Good.” I clapped him on the shoulder, a silent thank-you for his service. It wasn’t easy to trust anyone in our line of business, but Sean had proven himself time and again.
As Sean turned to slip back inside, I caught Kieran watching me, his gaze intense.
“What?” I asked roughly, my patience thinning.
Kieran just shrugged, the hint of a frown creasing his forehead. “I don’t know, lad. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Yeah, Kieran,” I replied. “Me too.”