6. Chapter Six Adriana
The change in my tone must have alerted him. Tristan stilled beneath me, his fingers paused on my back. “About what?”
Our recent encounter had left my mind in a fog, but a few words managed to penetrate. Attacks. Alliances. Betrayals. My intuition kept pulling me back towards the puzzle we needed to solve.
“I did what you told me. I was looking at the financials before you arrived and you were right,” I said. “Someone is definitely embezzling. I don’t want it to be my sister, but I’ve been turning this over in my head and I don’t know who else it could be.”
He was silent for a moment, his fingers still tracing patterns on my back. I could feel his heart pounding against my cheek, the steady rhythm matching my own. His chest rose and fell with every breath he took, and the warm scent of him filled my nostrils. The silence stretched on, and I couldn’t help but notice how tense he’d become next to me.
“I mean, this isn’t a surprise. I was just hoping you would uncover something more,” he said.
“I can’t. I’ve been turning it over in my head and there’s only one place to go from here.”
“Which is what?” he asked me.
“I need to talk to my father.”
“Your father?” He said, surprise lacing in his voice. His fingers stopped their gentle motions on my back; his body tensed underneath me.
“Yes. He has to know what’s happening,” I replied with a certainty I didn’t feel inside. When it came to my family, especially my father, nothing was as simple as it appeared.
“But what if he is a part of this? What if...” he began, but I cut him off.
“Part of embezzling money from himself?” I asked. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I suppose that’s fair,” he said. The tension bled out of his body, replaced by a weariness that I could feel seeping into his voice. “But we should still proceed with caution.”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “But not speaking to him would be a mistake. He needs to know about this.”
A silence drifted between us then, filled only by the whispering hum of the city outside our window. The truth was, I was scared. Bringing this information to my father could ignite a powder keg in the family, one that might burn us all in the process. But it was a risk we had no choice but to take.
I felt Tristan’s arms tighten around me then, drawing me closer against him. I nestled my head into his chest, drawing comfort from his warmth and steady heartbeat.
“I know you love your father, Ade,” he said softly. “But Silvio is a powerful man and I have a feeling that, just like my father, there’s probably a lot more to him than you know.”
“What does that mean?” I asked him, my temper suddenly flaring. “I understand you’re upset because you don’t want to see my father because you don’t want to tell him you backed out of marrying me, you know, again—“
“That’s not fair—“
I held up a hand to stop him from talking.
“No, let me finish,” I said, pulling away from him and sitting up, crossing my arms over my chest. “I understand your daddy issues. Believe me, I live with the same kind of problems too. But we don’t have a choice. The person from our family who is stealing from us could be working with your family. And there’s a war about to start.”
“That’s why you have to stay out of it,” Tristan said, reaching for my hand.
“Too late for that.” I shook my head, my hand on my belly. “There is no ‘staying out of it’ option left anymore.”
The room descended into silence, the weight of my words a tangible, tense thing that hung heavy between us. Tristan’s hand tightened around mine, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over my knuckles in a futile attempt to lessen the impact.
He sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Yeah, I know.”
Silence fell between us again, heavier this time, as we both grappled with the implications of what we’d discovered. A traitor in the midst, a looming war – none of it boded well. And somewhere near the heart of it all was my father.
Tristan was right; Sil Orsini may have been more than he seemed. But even after all these years, even after everything that had happened, he was still my father. The man who’d held me when I cried, who’d taught me how to ride a bike, who’d always been there for me. I wasn’t ready to believe he could have any part in the betrayal.
Plus, embezzling his own money? Absolutely not.
“And you’re going to have to tell him the wedding is off,” I said. “Sooner or later.”
“The wedding isn’t off,” Tristan replied defensively. “The wedding is postponed until I can guarantee your safety.”
I laughed, a little more bitterly than I wanted to. “So the wedding is off.”
He didn’t reply. His jaw clenched, and I saw the flicker of frustration in his blue eyes. I knew he was trying to protect me—to shield me from the violent world we were born into—but it hurt all the same.
“Can we...can we not fight about this right now?” Tristan said after a moment of silence, his voice weary. “There’s so much going on, and I need you on my side.”
“I am on your side,” I countered. “Always have been, always will be. But you can’t expect me not to fight for us—for our future.”
His eyes softened at my words, and he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I know,” he murmured. “It’s just complicated.”
“I know it’s complicated. Hence the talking to my father.”
He sighed, a worn-out huff of air that ruffled my hair. His arms encircled me again, pulling me closer toward him. The warmth of his body was comforting and for a moment it felt like everything else could wait. Yet the conversation loomed over us like an ominous cloud.
“I know we have to. Let me, uh, let me do it first.”
He said it so softly, almost as if he were afraid I’d argue. I considered it for a moment, but I knew he was right.
“So what are you going to tell him?”
“That we have some concerns about your safety and that’s why we haven’t scheduled the wedding yet. I don’t think the excuse of my dad dying and me not being ready yet is going to fly for much longer.”
I sighed, leaning my forehead against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my cheek. “And what about the embezzlement? The possible traitor in our ranks?”
“I’ll tell him we have some suspicions...that we’re still gathering evidence, but we thought he should know.”
“We’re going to cause an uproar, Tristan. Not just within my family, but yours as well. Are you ready for that?”
He was silent for a moment and then said, “I don’t think there’s ever really being ‘ready’ for something like this. But if it means protecting you, protecting us, it’s a storm I’m willing to face.”
His words should have comforted me but instead, they only stoked the fire of my anxiety. This wasn’t just about protecting me; this was about protecting all of us — our families, our heritage, and our way of life. We were on the precipice of a war that could threaten it all.
“And what if he doesn’t believe you?” I asked, looking up at him.
“He may not at first,” Tristan admitted. “But we’ll have to convince him. It’s too dangerous for us to ignore. I’m not lying, Ade. I want to marry you. I want to protect you first.”
My thoughts spiraled back to the idea that someone from my family could be betraying us. It was a horrifying thought and yet undeniably real. We were surrounded by darkness, beings that lurked in the shadows with their treacherous schemes, people who wore masks of loyalty while harboring deceit underneath.
I sighed. “Maybe there’s a way to hold him off at the pass.”
“What?” he replied.
“I don’t think you’re going to like this,” I said. “But an engagement party.”
Tristan looked at me as if I’d suddenly sprouted a second head. “An engagement party?” he repeated incredulously. “In the middle of all this chaos?”
I nodded, warming to my idea as I began to see the potential benefits. “Exactly. Think about it - it’s the perfect cover. We can call everyone together under one roof, keep an eye on them while we continue our investigations.”
He frowned, clearly unconvinced. “And what happens when bullets start flying in the middle of a toast?”
“We’ll have security,” I retorted quickly, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. “Besides, it might discourage anyone from making a move if they think we’re all loved up and not suspecting anything. And before we get married, this might be the perfect way to draw anyone out.”
Tristan considered the idea, his gaze flickering with uncertainty. “And what if this doesn’t work?” he asked, concern threading through his voice.
“Then we move on to plan B,” I reassured him, a faint smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. “But we’ve got to try something, Tristan. We need to take control of this situation before it spirals any further out of our reach.”
There was a pause as he seemed to mull over my words. His blue eyes searched mine as if looking for reassurance. I watched him, seeing the cogs turning in his mind as he weighed up the potential risks against the benefits.
Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his dark blond hair. “Alright,” he conceded. “We’ll throw an engagement party. It might be dangerous, though.”
“Fun, too,” I said. “A good reminder that the Callahans and the Orsinis still rule Boston. Let’s throw the kind of party your dad loved.”
“A masquerade ball? He always had a flair for the dramatic,” Tristan replied. “But I think my mum started that tradition.”
I laughed softly, leaning into him. “A masquerade ball. That’s perfect.”
He looked down at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “You’re really into this.”
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Why not? Our lives already feel like they’re out of John Wick or something. Let’s give it some grandeur.”
“Maybe the Godfather,” he replied. His hand went up to cradle my face as his thumb brushed gently over the scratch I had gotten from the attack. The touch was so tender that it made my heart flutter despite the gravity of what we were discussing.
The silence that stretched between us was pregnant with unspoken thoughts, our fears and hopes tangled together in a mess of emotions. The idea of the engagement party was a gamble, a bold move to take control of the situation, but it was also a chance for us to show the world that not even threats against our lives could tear us apart.
“So, we’re really doing this?” Tristan broke the silence, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. His eyes were sparkling with a newfound energy, and I couldn’t help but feel encouraged by his optimism.
“I guess so,” I responded with a small laugh, my heart pounding in my chest with excitement. “Let’s give them something they won’t forget.”
“Alright,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “Let the games begin.”