Chapter 14 Tristan
TRISTAN
Viviana is on her way to her parents, and my mood worsens with every passing second. This woman has dug herself so deep inside of me that I can barely function without her. Knowing it’s going to be another week until I can be with her again makes the torment a thousand times worse.
My jet lands in Boston, and I hop into the rental car, driving to the Syndicate’s headquarters. Tucked into the forest, with their men patrolling the perimeter, it’s as secure as it is secluded.
I climb out of the car, and the guard by the entrance lets me in.
I’ve been here many times, from business meetings to partaking in their parties, but the last few times we had encrypted online meetings. Our alliance took a dent the moment I refused to choose their side over brACON.
I couldn’t. Strategically speaking, it would bring me absolutely nothing. I prefer to remain neutral, even though from the outside it might appear as if my loyalties lie with the West Coast. I am Aris’s godfather, and my friendship with Enzo goes way back.
Allying myself with the Syndicate was strictly business—a lucrative one as both sides got richer and more powerful.
Inside the conference room, the bank owner, the Mafia boss, the senator, and the trading mogul sit in a line, their indestructible bond on display.
Separately, Kieran, Cato, Cameron, and Hayden are unfathomably rich, but together they’re unbeatable.
No one dares to mess with them, except Calla, who now controls the Council with Enzo by her side.
While I think both sides are wary of starting a war that will end with casualties, one slight mishap could change that. I don’t like the probability. At all.
“Tristan,” Kieran says. “It’s been a while.”
He lets me know, oh so subtly, that our alliance is precarious.
I unbutton my suit jacket and take a seat. “Busy.”
“No wonder with everything you have to juggle,” Cato grumbles.
Of the four of them, he’s the one who seeks revenge most. He got shot, and for a vicious man like him, retribution is not a demand, it’s a given.
“I want to propose something,” I say in my most matter-of-fact voice.
That piques their interest, and Cameron steeples his fingers, studying me. “Let us hear your proposal.”
Hayden cocks his head and arches an arrogant brow. “And what do you want in return?”
“An alliance by marriage,” I say, sweeping my gaze over them.
They exchange a furtive glance, taken aback by my proposition.
That’s why they call me the strategist. That’s why I don’t need anyone. I have done perfectly well on my own.
The atmosphere shifts as Kieran and Hayden tense.
I could throw up in my fucking mouth—their sister, Leonie, is only sixteen.
The only one who should be wary looks unbothered before I stare Cato down.
“Viviana.”
The other two relax slightly while Cato’s jaw sharpens. “No.”
I wave a hand through the air, going for a disinterested pose. “Fine, even though it would benefit you more than me.”
Kieran seeks my eyes as if searching for the real reason. “Why her?”
“She’s of age and the only one who could fortify our alliance. Are there any women in your family I don’t know about?” I say, with no inflection in my voice, making it appear strictly business when everything in me burns to make her mine already—officially.
I am losing my patience, threatening to crack my well-crafted poker mask.
Silence sits heavily between us like a predator before it gives chase.
I sweep my gaze over them. “Thought so.”
“So, it’s strictly business?” Hayden asks, his eyes turning into two slits, the distrust clear.
“What else could it be?” I narrow my eyes at him as if the concept is preposterous.
“And what would we get in exchange? Make it fucking good,” Cameron says.
“Peace.”
“We don’t seek peace,” Cato grumbles, fisting his hands on the table.
“You don’t want war either. Both Coasts would have bled out by now.”
Mutual sabotage and veiled threats have been the only interactions.
I stand up as if I am not dying to get my deal, but the moment they sniff something else is going on, they would latch on to that drop of blood like famished sharks.
I haven’t come so far by not playing the game the best.
“My offer has an expiration date. There are other alliances I can enter.” I shrug. “You know the saying, blood is thicker than any pledge.”
I let them ponder my words, knowing I will get her.
“That would make us family,” Kieran says, balancing the pros and cons.
“I know.” Aware of the implications and his thinking that would sway my loyalty toward their side.
It’s not who said wife is that makes the difference, but because it’s Viviana. Before her, I didn’t even entertain the thought of getting married. But now it’s more than that. It’s my duty. My responsibility.
“I had someone else in mind for her,” Cato says.
Scolding my features into keeping a neutral expression takes great skill. Don’t I fucking know it? But the fucker doesn’t deserve her. I will kill Dario if he ever touches her.
“She’s still in college.”
I brush his concern off with a swipe of my hand. “She can finish her studies. We’ll get married afterward.”
Cato’s brows furrow, his mind trying to piece together the reason for the sudden interest. “Moving fast, I see.”
“It’s months away. I am in no hurry.”
I leave, feeling like I’ve won something but will lose her.
After hopping into the car, I drive aimlessly through Boston, parking down the street from her parents’ house. I wonder if she is with her Nonna or playing with her niece.
Missing her hollows my chest, demanding everything in me not to climb out of the car and present myself as her fiancé. Her future husband.
I don’t know how long I watch out the window to catch a glimpse of her when my phone vibrates. I pick it up from the center console to see the reminder for poker night.
I meet monthly with Vian and Rafe, the other two most powerful associates of the Syndicate. We have an alliance within an alliance, so to speak. Plus, we’re the only ones who are not married.
Tonight, it’s my turn to host the poker night. Vian is the Chicago Mafia boss, and Rafe is the Miami cartel boss.
Fuck, I almost forgot about that. And I never forget anything. I guess until the deal passes through, I can’t focus on anything else.
I speed toward the private airport and hop in the jet to make it on time, instructing my house manager to prepare for tonight’s game.
Once inside my penthouse, I walk into the poker room, nodding to myself. Cigars lay on the side of the table next to a bottle of the finest scotch and some snacks. The cards are decked just in time for my security downstairs to announce the first one’s presence.
Vian and I clap each other’s backs in greeting.
“Ready to get your ass kicked?”
“Keep dreaming, asshole,” he snickers. “The diva is late, like always.”
“I fucking heard you. It’s called work,” Rafe enters, scowling at Vian.
The three of us move like a well-oiled machine. Rafe pours the drinks, Vian offers the cigars, and I shuffle the cards.
When we don’t play for money, we play for favors. These gatherings used to be a pleasurable pastime, but now thoughts of Viviana invade my brain. I would much rather spend my time with her instead.
As I get the cards ready for Texas Hold ’Em, I say, “I’m getting married.”
They’ll find out eventually, and I want them to hear it from me.
Vian spills his drink.
Rafe shows his cards.
Shock pervades the air, thick with disbelief. The reaction doesn’t surprise me. A few months ago, I hadn’t expected that either.
Rafe swore marriage off long before he took over.
No one dares ask Vian about it.
And I was convinced no one could help me gain more power, so it was a done deal that I would remain unmarried.
“Viviana Bertinelli,” I say before their brains explode thinking of who it might be.
Vian leans back, nodding at me. “Clever fucker.”
Rafe puffs on his cigar, enveloping the room in gray smoke. “When will you have enough?”
That will be the fact the underworld will stick to.
That I follow a strategy, giving me an untouchable status by increasing my power and influence even more, single-handedly being the balance between the East and the West Coast. That is what Viviana will hear too.
That I used her to keep the peace, when I would have started a war to have her.
“Now, it’s enough.”
Vian cocks his head. “How did Cato react? His wife won’t be happy. If her sister is anything like her, you’re fucked, you know that?”
Cato’s wife’s reputation has been a topic for years. The fucker must love a good challenge.
“He said no. He’ll reconsider.”
“He’s whipped,” Vian says wistfully.
“They all are. Disgusting,” Rafe says, and his face contorts as if anything feelings-related makes him physically ill. “Why so sure?”
“It’s a win-win situation.”
“Wouldn’t have taken you for a promoter of equity,” Vian says, staring at me.
I hold his stare. The fucker doesn’t want to play this game with me. I am emotionless when required. The reason I am winning at poker once again. But I tolerate their company, and it’s good for business.
As we continue to play, Rafe says, “So when will the auspicious event be?”
“Summer.”
It will happen.
Just then, I receive a text from Kieran.
You have your deal.
I smirk, finally able to relax.
But then a knife lodges between my ribcage, seizing my lungs. It gets harder to breathe, and I am perfectly aware of the reason. Soon she’ll find out who I truly am.
That’s why I will postpone announcing the engagement. To keep this version of her longer.
After the game ends, I accompany them to the elevator. Observing each other, we remain silent for a minute.
Vian shrugs. “Should I say congratulations? Good luck?”
“Commiseration?” Rafe adds.
I wave them off. “I don’t need any of that. See you next month. And make it Thursdays from now on.”
“And so it begins,” Vian sighs.
Rafe and he exchange a pitiful look, shaking their heads at me.