Chapter Eighteen Adriana
Ineeded to get out of there. The four walls of the safehouse townhouse felt like they were closing in on me, each ornate fixture and plush sofa a reminder of the twisted life I was entangled in. With every ticking second, Tristan’s presence in the room grew heavier, his silence louder than any argument we’d ever had.
“Adriana, just listen—“ He started, but I cut him off with a sharp wave of my hand.
“Save it, Tristan.” My voice was cool, unyielding as I eyed the box on the coffee table—a Pandora’s box of promises and lies. “I don’t need another dead-end bargain.”
He tried to close the gap between us, his movements deliberate, but I wasn’t having any of it. “Be reasonable,” he urged, his fingers wrapping around my arm with an unexpected gentleness that belied the steel in his touch.
“Reasonable?” I laughed, bitter and short. “That ship sailed the moment you dragged me into this mess.”
Tristan leaned in, his lips grazing mine in an attempt to soothe the storm brewing between us. For a fleeting second, I let myself drown in the familiarity of his kiss—tender and apologetic. But this wasn’t about a kiss, no matter how lovely.
And fuck, it was lovely.
He was lovely.
“Stop,” I managed, prying myself away from his embrace. Frustration gnawing at my insides, I glared up at him. “You can’t fix everything by fucking me, Tristan.”
“Seems to work fine until now,” he shot back, a half-smirk playing on his lips.
“Damn you,” I snapped, the anger seeping through my cracks, but underneath it all, sadness brewed—a tempest of what-ifs and could-have-beens.
“Damn you,” I snapped, the anger seeping through my cracks, but underneath it all, sadness brewed—a tempest of what-ifs and could-have-beens.
“Adriana—“
“Stop,” I commanded again, this time with more force. I shook off the tears threatening to betray my feelings. “Don’t you dare grab me like that again. I’m pregnant, for God’s sake.”
“I mean, I know you’re pregnant, but–”
I had no idea what he said next. I turned on my heel and stormed out into the crisp Boston morning.
“Where will you go?” His voice followed me onto the sidewalk, tinged with a desperation I’d never heard before.
“Anywhere but here,” I spat, my steps erratic as I tried to put distance between us.
“Back to your father?”
I tilted my head back to try and stop the tears. “Fuck you,” I said. “Was this your plan? To trap me?” I accused, my heart pounding against my chest.
“Adriana, you know that’s not true. I tried to reach you before any of this got out of hand!” His protest sounded sincere, but I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let myself be swayed.
“Right,” I scoffed. “And those proposals were what? A joke?”
“Never a joke,” he said firmly. “Life just kept getting messy.”
“Then congratulations on the mess,” I retorted, crossing my arms to guard against the chill and the ache in my chest.
“Don’t go, please,” he said. “I need you here.”
The chill Boston air biting at my cheeks as I confronted Tristan. He stood there, a monolith against the backdrop of our temporary refuge, his posture relaxed despite the gravity of what I was about to say.
“Tristan,” I started, my voice steady though my heart thrummed in my chest, “I’m leaving the safehouse. It’s clear that nothing I do can touch you—you’re untouchable. And me being here? It changes nothing.”
He cocked his head to the side, lips quirking into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Untouchable, huh? Must’ve missed the memo on that when I took two bullets meant for you.”
I stepped back from Tristan, the frost-kissed bricks of the townhouse pressing against my spine as if they too sensed my resolve. My breath formed clouds in the late morning air, a stark reminder of Boston’s unforgiving winter.
“Your jokes don’t land when we’re talking about life and death,” I said, folding my arms to ward off more than just the cold. “I don’t need your pity, Tristan, nor your protection. I can take care of myself.”
He folded his hands in his pockets, leaning back against the railing of the townhouse steps, an image of casual defiance. “Pity is the last thing I feel when I look at you, Adriana. If anything, I’m in awe. And this,” he gestured between us with a nod, “isn’t about keeping you safe out of obligation. It’s because I want you—us—to have a future together. I want to marry you, do right by you.”
“Right by me?” I echoed, skepticism lacing my words. His offer was genuine—I saw that much in his eyes—but it was also tangled up in a legacy that demanded blood for loyalty. Whether it was his or mine didn’t matter; either way, it came at a cost.
And I wasn’t sure, but I thought the cost might be him.
I wasn’t willing to pay it.
“You deserve more than this,” he said softly.
“Deciding what I deserve isn’t your call,” I challenged, my voice low but steady. “It’s mine. And right now, I’m deciding what’s best for us both.”
Tristan’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. The charm that usually played so effortlessly across his features was absent, replaced with a raw edge that made my stomach tighten.
“Best for us? Or just playing it safe?” His tone was a mix of hurt and accusation. “You’re thinking about the twins, about what happens if I—“
“Stop!” I cut him off, my own fears clawing their way to the surface. “I can’t lose you to this madness, Tristan. Your self-destructive path ends with me standing over your grave, and our children asking why they never got to meet their father.”
He took a step closer, the distance between us shrinking until I could feel the heat of him, even through the layers of our clothing. I hadn’t even put on my coat before storming out. “Then help me,” he pleaded, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that didn’t quite mask the desperation within. “Help me change the outcome. I can’t do this without you.”
Before I could argue further, he reached out, cradling my face in his hands, and kissed me with a fervor that spoke volumes more than words ever could.
Despite everything inside of me wanting–so much–to give in, I pulled away from him.
“I won’t be another one of your pawns, Tristan,” I spat out, the words like shards of ice. “I make my own choices.”
“Adriana, you’re not understanding—“
“No, you don’t understand!” My hands, trembling with a cocktail of anger and fear, found the solid wall of his chest and pushed. He stumbled back, a look of shock etched across his face that mirrored the ache in my heart. The space between us grew, filled only by the harsh whisper of our breaths forming misty clouds in the air.
“Respect me, Tristan,” I demanded, my voice unsteady but fierce. “Respect my autonomy. I’m not just an extension of your will.”
He recovered his balance and looked at me, those eyes that held storms and secrets now clouded with pain. “Ade, I do respect you, more than anyone,” he said, his voice low and threaded with hurt. “But I’m trying to protect what’s ours. I’m scared to death of turning into my father, of failing you, the twins...everyone.”
“By controlling everything around you?” I countered, wrapping my arms around myself against the chill and the vulnerability that threatened to crack me open.
“By trying to keep the chaos at bay, yes.” He ran a hand through his short-cropped hair, a gesture of frustration I’d come to recognize. “I know I’ve got this darkness in me, Ade. I’m fighting it, every damn day, for you, for our family. But I’m terrified that it’s not enough.”
“Then let me in, Tristan,” I pleaded, my resolve softening as I saw the man beneath the authority, the uncertainty behind the confidence. “Share the burden, don’t just shoulder it alone. That’s what partners do.”
He looked away, his jaw clenching as he fought with whatever demon was gnawing at him from the inside. The silence stretched out between us, and I could almost hear it cracking.
“Last night...” Tristan finally began, breaking the quiet with a voice that sounded like it was dragged over gravel. “It’s better if you don’t know. There are things in my world, Adriana, dark things that I don’t want touching you.”
My frustration flared up again, hot and blinding. “This is exactly what I’m talking about!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air. “You can’t keep me in the dark and expect me to be okay with it. I’m not just some damsel in distress; I’m your partner—in life, in everything, remember?”
He met my gaze then, his blue eyes intense even as they swam with something unspoken. “I remember,” he said quietly. “But this... it’s complicated. It’s ugly. And it’s not just about protecting you—it’s about protecting what we have.”
“Tristan, that doesn’t work for me. Not knowing doesn’t keep me safe, it keeps me scared. We can’t live like this, always on the edge of a secret warzone,” I argued, my heart hammering against my chest.
“Listen,” he started, but I cut him off.
“Can we even survive this?” My voice broke, betraying the emotional exhaustion gnawing at my core. “Do we even truly understand each other?”
He reached for me then, his hand hesitating in the air between us. I wanted to lean into his touch, to let his warmth chase away the cold uncertainty that had settled in my bones. But I stayed rooted to the spot, needing him to see me, to really see the woman standing before him.
“Understanding each other isn’t our problem, Ade,” he said, his words wrapping around me even as his arms didn’t. “We understand each other. I just need you to trust me.”
“If you need to trust you, then how come you don’t seem to trust me?”
He shook his head. “It isn’t about that.”
“Tristan,” I whispered, “I want to trust you more than anything. But love has to be built on more than just desire and whispered promises in the dark.”
His eyes searched mine, the blue depths revealing a storm of emotions he so rarely let show. “I know,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “And I’m going to prove it to you. Every day, every moment, until you have no doubt left.”
Before I could respond, he closed the distance between us, pulling me into his arms with a ferocity that left me reeling. His lips met mine with a passion that seared through my defenses, igniting a fire that consumed all thoughts of caution. The world fell away, leaving only the two of us locked in an embrace that spoke volumes.
The kiss was endless, a promise and a plea, a testament to the depth of his feelings. But as his mouth moved over mine with a fervor that left me breathless, a part of me held back, clinging to the harsh reality that love alone couldn’t shield us from the dangers lurking in our shadows.
Reluctantly, I pulled away, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. Tears blurred my vision, drops of raw emotion that I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Tristan,” I said, my voice shaking, “this...as much as I love this, it isn’t enough.”
Pain flickered across his features, and he cupped my face, brushing away the tears with his thumbs. “What’s wrong, Ade? What do I need to do?”
“Actions, Tristan. I need actions that match these words,” I replied, trying to steady my voice. “Promises aren’t shields. Kisses don’t build futures. I can feel your love, but we need more than that—we need certainty, safety for our children.”
He nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Anything, Adriana. Tell me what you need.”
Taking a deep breath, I steadied my trembling hands by placing them on my growing bump. “I want legal protection for the twins,” I said firmly. “We need to put things in place because...because I don’t think you’ll marry me before they’re born.”
“Adriana—“ Tristan started, but I shook my head, cutting him off.
“Please, just...let’s take care of this first. Then we’ll figure out the rest.” My voice broke as the weight of our situation bore down on me, my resolve mingling with fear and love in equal measure.
As he pulled me close, wrapping his strong arms around me, I let myself sink into his embrace, knowing that despite the uncertainty of our future, this moment of solace was something worth fighting for.
Until I saw Kieran arrive.