20. Chapter Twenty Tristan
If I was going to die, the last thing I would do was get Adriana out of her father’s grip.
I needed to make sure my children didn’t live under the shadow of that tyrant.
The wind was howling like a banshee, and the rain hit me sideways as I stood at the base of what I hoped was the house Adriana was in, heart pounding with purpose. The wood under my feet was slick, soaked from the storm that had been thrashing Boston. I could only hope that Adriana was up there, in that house on stilts. If she was, nothing was going to stop me from getting to her.
“Damn stairs,” I muttered, staring at the mangled metal that once led up to her balcony but now lay twisted and useless, a victim of the storm’s fierce temper. There was that…and the iron wrought gate that was far too large to scale.
I knew that this was Silvio’s doing and that made me feel like murdering him right then and there.
But I couldn’t focus on that right now.
There wasn’t a second to lose; the tide was rising, threatening to swallow the shore whole.
I clenched my fists. My chest tightened with a mix of fear and resolve. It wasn’t just the cold that made me shiver, it was the thought of her being alone, trapped in that lofty prison while the tempest raged around us.
At least I hoped she was alone. If Silvio was up there, doing who-knows-what to hurt her…fuck.
“Okay, Tristan, think,” I urged myself. There was another way. It was risky, madness maybe, but she was worth every peril. I stared at the rocky scree below the stilts, each stone slick and treacherous, daring me to make a wrong step. The shoreside wasn’t any friendlier, waves crashing against it, hungry for something to drag into the icy depths.
I climbed down toward the beach until I was close to what looked like the shortest stilt holding up the house. I could feel Kieran’s gaze on me, watching me from right outside the car.
The tide was coming in fast, water licking at the heels of my boots, reminding me of its presence. I couldn’t help but think of Adriana, her sharp wit probably cutting through the danger of the situation, her keen eyes watching the storm with the same intensity she watched over her troubled family. If she could see me now, what would she say? Would she see the desperation in my actions, or the love that drove them?
“Focus, Tristan,” I scolded myself. I couldn’t afford distractions, not with the freezing grip of winter clawing at me, trying to claim me as its own. Adriana needed me, and I wasn’t about to let her down, not now, not ever.
My breath came out in white puffs as I scaled the stilt, the sea spray mixing with the rain, coating my face with a salty chill. But the cold in my bones was nothing compared to the fire in my chest, the burning need to reach her. I wouldn’t let the Callahan name down, nor the woman who somehow managed to steal the guarded heart of a man more accustomed to solitude than grand gestures.
And my children…I wouldn’t let my psychopathic father-in-law to be to hurt my children.
“Almost there,” I grunted, pushing past the biting wind and the numbing cold. My arms ached, my legs begged for solid ground, but my spirit... my spirit soared with the thought of holding Adriana in my arms, away from this storm, away from the dangers that awaited her below. She might struggle with trust, might question my every move, but I’d climb through a thousand storms if it meant proving my loyalty to her.
If it meant helping her.
If it meant getting her out.
I pulled myself up, muscles straining, and my foot slipped. My heart lunged into my throat as I dangled precariously, dangling over a drop that didn’t forgive mistakes. I had managed to climb up just high enough to make sure it would be suicide if I fell.
For a second, I stared down at the churning darkness below, where the ocean roared its hunger for me.
“Tristan?” The voice cut through the chaos of the storm—a beacon in the tempest. Adriana. She’d seen me.
And she was here. She was here, after all. I could get her out.
“Adriana!” I shouted back, unsure if she could even hear me over the howling wind and the relentless drumming of rain.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Her figure leaned precariously over the balcony rail, her dark hair whipping around her face like a shadow come to life. The silk skirt whipped around her legs.
“Don’t die for me, Tristan! Just go back!” There was a tremor in her voice, the fear for me nearly tangible even amidst the thundering skies.
“I’m not planning on it. I’m coming for you!” I yelled, but the words got swallowed by a peal of thunder, and I wondered if she heard them. I hoped she did because I meant every damn syllable.
“Come on!” I growled to myself, or maybe to the storm, challenging it to try harder, because I wouldn’t be stopped. Not now. Not ever. Adriana Orsini was worth every perilous inch of this ascent. And as the icy rain drenched me through, chilling me to the core, my resolve only hardened.
“Almost there,” I repeated like a mantra, each word a promise to the woman who awaited me, a woman whose sharp wit and strong intuition had somehow seen behind the mask of the mafia prince, to the man within, a man willing to scale the impossible for her.
But it didn’t matter how much my mind wanted this.
This was precarious and I was getting tired. My hands couldn’t get much purchase on the white paint of the stilts, which were slippery with water now.
I tried to go up a little more..and almost lost my balance.
My hands screamed in protest, muscles quivering from the strain as I dangled precariously. Then, through the haze of my exertion, I saw it—a lifeline. Several blankets tied together cascaded down the side of the balcony.
“Adriana!” My voice was hoarse with relief and a touch of desperation. She had found a way, as she always did.
“Take it, Tristan! Wrap it around you,” she commanded, her tone laced with urgency and concern.
Fumbling with numb fingers, I managed to secure the makeshift rope around my wrists, looping it twice for good measure. I glanced up to see Adriana anchoring herself against the banister, her body braced as if she were the only thing holding back the storm itself. She was trying to angle her bump away from the banister and it looked…hard.
I couldn’t believe she was doing this for me.
The sight fueled me, igniting a fire within that burned away the cold.
It was a slow, grueling battle against gravity, but inch by inch, I ascended the facade of the Orsini beach house, my every breath a testament to the determination we shared. Time lost meaning as the struggle stretched on, each second an eternity until finally, my hand clasped the edge of the balcony.
With one final heave, I tumbled over the railing and onto the solid ground. Gasping for air, I barely had time to register my triumph before Adriana’s arms encircled me, her embrace fierce and unyielding.
She was freezing.
“Tristan,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. Her silk gown clung to her like a second skin, the fabric of the masquerade still adorning her shivering form
“Ade, God...” Pulling her close, I enveloped her in my arms, my own shivers mirroring hers. “You’re so cold.”
“Inside,” she said, her teeth chattering. “We need to get inside.”
Together, we stumbled through the balcony doors into the sanctuary of the estate. The storm raged on outside, but here, within these walls, there was warmth, and there was us.
Adriana was alive. And everything else had quickly stopped mattering.
“Let me look at you,” Adriana insisted, her fingers lightly tracing the contours of my face. Her touch was gentle, yet underscored with a fervor that spoke volumes of her concern. I could see the storm in her eyes, a tempest of worry and love clashing with every glance.
“Ade, I’m okay,” I tried to reassure her, but she wouldn’t have it. “How are you? How are the babies? Did he hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” she examined my hands, turning them over, her breath hitching slightly at the sight of red marks where the rough stone had taken its toll. “But you’re not.”
“I really am okay.”
“Tristan, you’re hurt,” she murmured, her dark eyes flickering up to meet mine, the lightning outside casting fleeting shadows across her features.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” I replied, but the moment was already shifting, changing as the urgency that had propelled us into the house gave way to something deeper, something elemental between us.
“Don’t fucking do things like that,” she whispered, her voice practically breaking. “I won’t lose you.”
Before I could respond, her lips found mine, igniting a fire that burned away the chill of the rain-soaked night. It was a kiss that spoke of promises and unspoken vows, searing through me with an intensity that left no room for doubts or fears.
My hands moved of their own accord, tangling in her short, dark hair as I pressed her against the wall. The cool plaster was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from our bodies, but nothing could dampen the flame that roared to life within me.
“Ade,” I breathed against her lips, my heart thundering in my chest as fierce as the storm outside. “I’m so sorry. I’m never letting you go again.”
Her response was a muffled sigh against my lips, her arms tightening around me. “Promise?” she whispered, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze with her own, eyes gleaming dark and hopeful under the muted house lights.
“Promise,” I vowed, punctuating my words with another searing kiss, fueling the fire that had sparked between us since day one. It was a promise that echoed in the stillness of the room, rising above the storm that raged beyond this fancy little prison. My hand slid down to her bump. “All of you. I promise all of you.”