14. Chapter Fourteen Adriana
It had been weeks.
We were ready.
The grand chandeliers of the five-star hotel in Boston cast a glamorous glow over the sea of masked faces as Tristan and I stepped into the masquerade ball. We were met with a low murmur of intrigue and the faintest hint of recognition; not because of our masks, but because of the undeniable curve of my bump beneath the luxurious fabric of my gown. I felt every eye on us, some familiar, others strangers hidden behind ornate disguises. This was where every power player in our shadowy world came to play their games.
This was the place to be.
Tristan and I had announced our engagement and now Orsini and Callahan associates hung out as if that was a thing we had always done.
“Stay close,” Tristan murmured, his hand finding the small of my back, a gesture that was both protective and possessive. He guided me through the throng of guests, his broad shoulders parting the crowd like he was born to rule this place. But I knew better. The tension in his jaw betrayed his social anxiety, the weight of being surrounded by so many eyes.
There was a metal detector outside the venue, so I didn’t think anything bad would really happen.
And as the night went on, my anxiety eased a little–I knew these people, most of them were old friends.
I caught up with them as they toasted to my engagement and it was…nice. Almost normal. Almost like this was the kind of party everyone had.
As the night pressed on, I found myself momentarily alone when Tristan was pulled aside by an associate. That’s when he approached—a man masked in black with only his eyes visible. They held mine with an intensity that was almost magnetic. I definitely knew him from somewhere, but I had absolutely no idea where.
Then again, I supposed that was the entire point of wearing a mask.
“Care to dance?” he asked, extending a hand with a confidence that seemed familiar. I couldn’t hear him that well and I’d danced with plenty of people, so I nodded and took his hand.
“Sure,” I said without hesitation, assuming he was one of Tristan’s men. After all, who else would dare ask?
Tristan liked showing me off–that was new, something I’d found out about only that night–and as long as I was fully in view of him, he didn’t care who I danced with.
The song was slow, but not slow enough to be intimate. His hold on me was firm, commanding, yet not unkind. It wasn’t until he leaned in, the scent of his cologne enveloping me, that a cold dread seeped into my veins. It was him—Nick Rossi, the ghost from my past, the man who once upon a nightmare had kidnapped me.
Fuck.
I tried to let go of him, but he squeezed my hand and held me in place. “Don’t make a scene, Orsini,” he said. “You don’t want bullets to start flying around.”
“Let go of me,” I said, trying to shake him off.
“We just started. Enjoying the evening?” Nick’s voice was low, a dangerous undercurrent to his words.
I stiffened, trying to mask the horror twisting inside me. “What do you want?” My voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried the sharp edge of fear.
“Let’s just say I’m keeping an eye on the festivities,” he replied, his grip on my waist tightening ever so slightly.
Every instinct screamed at me to pull away, to run to Tristan and reveal Nick’s audacity to be here, dancing with me as if we shared some dark secret. But I didn’t want to cause a scene—not here, not now.
Not when things could go so wrong.
As if Nick could read my mind, he smirked. “I have snipers on the roof of the hotel next door,” he said. “Pointed at your mom, dad, sister’s heads. And you know what, even if they aren’t…think some Callahan blood would look nice on this tile.”
“Okay, okay,” I replied. “I get it. I won’t scream.”
“You’re such a good girl,” Nick said, his voice low, steady. “I can see why Tristan likes you so much.”
So I danced with my enemy, each step a silent battle between the need to escape and the need to remain composed.
“Tristan won’t like this,“ I hissed, searching the crowd for a glimpse of those piercing blue eyes, willing him to sense my distress.
“Perhaps,” Nick conceded, a smirk audible in his voice. “But sometimes, it’s good to remind everyone that there are no true secrets in our world.”
“Are you just here for a pissing contest?” I asked, trying my best not to shout at him.
“Actually, I’m here because I wanted to talk to you. It’s always nice to talk to someone who might have been family.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I shot back, fighting to keep the tremor from my voice.
“Let’s just say, I was looking forward to being part of the family too,” he whispered so close I could feel his breath against my ear.
A shiver raced down my spine, but not from fear alone. There was something in his words, a hidden meaning that sent my mind racing. What did Nick know that I didn’t? And why was he telling me this?
“What?” I asked, more annoyed than scared now. “You’re not making any sense.”
“There’s a lot more to Silvio Orsini than you know, Adriana,” he said. “And I know he’s your father, but you should really think about that.”
The moment the dance ended, I broke away from Nick Rossi as if his touch burned me. “My father’s business is not my own,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “And neither is yours.”
“Is that so?” Nick’s eyes glinted behind his mask, a predator playing with his prey. “You’re smart, Adriana. You should pay attention to both your father and Tristan. They play a dangerous game.”
“And you’re harmless,” I said between gritted teeth.
“Maybe not, but have you considered that I’m the only person in your life who’s being totally honest with you?”
I didn’t wait for another word, slipping out of his grasp like a shadow fading into the night. The cool air outside was a welcome relief from the heat of the ballroom and the tension of the dance. I leaned against the hotel’s ornate exterior, taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart.
That’s when I heard them—Kieran and Liam, their voices low as they stood in the shadows sharing a joint. I could smell the scent of weed coming from when they were sitting.
If I hadn’t been pregnant, I would have happily asked them to partake.
“I don’t know, lad. He’s just been so different since Dad passed. Since he got Adriana pregnant,” Liam was saying, a note of worry in his young voice. “He’s...I don’t know, he’s just off.”
“Tristan’s always been a bit of a lone wolf,” Kieran replied, his tone somber. “But yeah, he’s pushing himself too hard. He wants to prove he can lead, but it’s like he’s got something to prove to himself more than anyone else. I don’t expect him to behave like dad.”
“No one should expect him to behave like dad. He was a psychopath,” Liam said.
Kieran laughed, no bitterness in his voice. “He liked you!”
“I know and even I could tell he was a psychopath,” Liam replied. I heard him inhale. “I understand I got lucky. You two were there to protect me from the worst of it. And I, I don’t know, I miss him. But watching Tristan spiral like this…I think that might be the worst part of it all.”
“He’s doing his best,” Kieran said softly.
“Yeah, and it isn’t working,” his little brother replied. “Think he’ll do something crazy?”
“Let’s just say I’ve got plans in place if things go south,” Kieran said, and I strained to hear more, but he didn’t elaborate.
My mind spun with questions. What was Kieran planning? Was Tristan really losing control, or was it all part of some strategy I couldn’t see? The men I loved and trusted were keeping secrets, weaving webs I couldn’t untangle.
I needed to ask Tristan about it. I needed to go back in there and tell Tristan that Nick Rossi had crashed the party.
But I couldn’t bring myself to do it, not yet.
I leaned against the cool marble, my breath fogging in the crisp night air. The masquerade’s laughter and music were a distant echo as I tried to calm the storm inside me. That’s when a voice I hadn’t expected cut through the chaos of my thoughts, clear and unmistakable even from a distance.
“Regardless of past grievances, there will be peace with the Rossis,” my father, Silvio Orsini, declared, his tone carrying that familiar edge of authority. “Nick upheld his end of the bargain by not hurting Adriana. I owe it to him to make these negotiations smooth.”
Why was my Dad talking to them? And what the fuck did he mean about a bargain?
“I really don’t like not telling him about this, Silvio,” Kieran said, as if him and my dad were old friends. “I think he needs to know the truth.”
“He does need to know the truth. In time, when your niece and nephew are born, and my grandchildren are protected, he will know everything,” my dad said. “Right now, this is what must happen.”
My heart hammered like a drum, betrayal igniting like fire in my veins. How could he speak of truces and bargains over my life as if I were just another chess piece in their twisted game? Clutching the silk fabric of my gown, I stepped from the shadows, the mask of the ball now useless to conceal the fury in my eyes.
“Truce?” My voice sliced through the air, sharp and accusing.
“Ade–”
“You fucking liar,” I said, vaguely aware that I had never before sworn at my father at all. “You talk about me as if I’m not your daughter but a pawn in your dealings!”
My dad turned, his face etched with annoyance and worry. “Adriana, you shouldn’t have heard that.” He glanced at his conversational partner who’d quickly excused himself, leaving us alone. “It’s complicated, there’s more to it—“
Liam and Kieran watched us, neither one of them saying a thing.
“Complicated?” I spat the word out like poison. “You call a deal with the man who kidnapped me ‘complicated’? And what about Tristan? Do you think so little of him?”
“Adriana, this is the world we live in. It’s not black and white.” His voice was strained, trying to infuse some calm into the tension between us. “I’m doing what’s best for our family. What’s best for your children.”
“Best for the family or best for you?” I challenged, stepping closer, my voice rising. “You call yourself a father, yet you bargain with my life, with my future! Maybe Nick Rossi hasn’t killed me yet, but what life am I left with if I’m just a chip in your games?”
“Watch your tongue,” he snapped, the gentle fa?ade slipping. “You don’t understand the weight of the decisions I have to make.”
“Then make me understand, or are you afraid to?” I was trembling now, rage mingling with an overwhelming sense of helplessness. “Because right now, all I see is a bastard who sold out his own daughter!”
I heard the slap before I felt it.
A disorienting rush of pain blossomed across my cheek, followed by the sting of betrayal that cut even deeper. I stumbled back, clutching my face, staring at my father in disbelief. The impact ricocheted through my skull, my father’s usually gentle hand sharp against my heated cheek. The sound echoed eerily in the silence that followed, my father just as stunned as I was. Beyond the shock, there was a flicker of regret in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, but I didn’t want to hear it. The apologies were worthless, flimsy attempts to mend a rift that had split too deep and too wide.
No one moved or spoke. Liam and Kieran were frozen, their eyes wide. And me? I touched a hand to my cheek, the sting blooming into a steady throb. For a moment, all I could do was stare at him, my father - the man who had raised me, loved me, and now betrayed me.
“How dare you?” I heard myself ask.
And then, when I thought he might apologize again, he…rolled his eyes.
“Enough,” Silvio growled, his patience frayed to the breaking point.
Before I could react, he grabbed me firmly by the arm, his grip unyielding as he steered me through the throngs of masked guests smoking or drinking outside. Their blurred faces turned into a sea of judgment and curiosity, but all I could focus on was the steel in my father’s eyes—a cold reminder of the world I was born into.
“Let go of me!” I protested, trying to wrench my arm free from his grasp, but it was like fighting against iron chains.
“Adriana, you’re causing a scene,” he hissed, leading me toward the grand entrance of the garden, away from prying eyes and curious ears.
“Good! Maybe then someone will see the truth behind all this!” My voice echoed off the marble walls, drawing more attention than I had intended.
We burst through the wrought garden gates, the cool night air hitting my face. The valet looked startled as Silvio practically threw me into the backseat of the sleek black car, its engine purring quietly in the background.
I went for the handle, but the door was child locked. He was too fast and I was stuck.
“Daddy, please,” I pleaded, my anger dissolving into desperation as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Don’t do this.”
“Once you understand, you’ll see that I’m right,” he said, not meeting my gaze.
“Understand what? That you don’t trust me? That I’m just a pawn to you?” Tears stung my eyes, blurring the opulent facade of the hotel as we pulled away.
“Baby, one day you’ll thank me,” he said, his voice a mixture of conviction and something else—was it regret?
Great. Another prison within the gilded cage of my life.
“Please,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I realized the futility of my situation. “We can talk. We can just…Daddy, don’t do this.”
He didn’t answer, driving through the Boston streets with purpose. And as the city lights streaked by in a blur of color and shadow, I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, a silent vow forming in my heart.
No matter what it took, I would find a way out. I would take back my life, even if it meant defying the kingpin who was my father.
“Please,” I pleaded. “Daddy.”
“I’m doing this for my grandchildren,” he said, then turned the radio up so he wouldn’t hear me.
And just like that, I’d been kidnapped again. And I had no idea how I was going to get out.