Page 40 of False Heir

“Well, it’s more than you gave me,” Killian muttered.

“And now you’re what–hiding in a warehouse, waiting for one of us to kill you? Or one of his men? I guess at least you didn’t go to the feds, and I should be grateful for that.”

“I would never go to the police,” Killian said, his speech slurred, clearly offended.

“Killian,” I began, my voice steady despite the churn of emotions roiling beneath the surface. “You’ve been with us for how long? And not once did you come to me with your concerns?”

Killian’s eyes met mine, a tumult of defiance and resignation swirling in their depths. “I know, Tristan, I know. But you don’t understand. When Malachy...” He trailed off, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a hard swallow.

“Malachy was a lot of things, but he wasn’t the end-all,” I said, my annoyance clear as glass. “You think I didn’t have plans for you?”

“Plans?” Killian scoffed, a self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “Look around, Tristan. Plans change. People get left behind.”

“Left behind?” I echoed, incredulous. “After everything we’ve been through, you really believe that?”

“Believe it?” He laughed bitterly, the sound devoid of any real humor. “It’s not about belief. It’s survival, Tristan. You can’t promise me that. No one can.”

“Survival,” I mused, letting the word hang between us like a verdict. “And yet here you are, having gambled away your trust on a man who’d throw you to the wolves without a second thought.”

Killian’s shoulders sagged, his momentary fire extinguishing. “Yeah, well, fear makes you do stupid things.”

“Stupidity isn’t an excuse.” I stepped closer, locking eyes with him.

“If you hadn’t been scared of marrying Adriana Orsini, your father would be alive,” he said simply.

The statement hung in the air, a punch to the gut. I felt the sting of it reverberate through my veins, reigniting old wounds that never fully healed. My fingers curled into fists at my sides. “That’s a low blow, Killian.”

“And yet it’s true.” His gaze held mine, defiant despite his evident fear.

“No,” I said after a moment, my voice steady. “What’s true is you betrayed us. Used our trust for your gain.”

Killian flinched as if I’d actually struck him. Then he was quiet, staring at me with something akin to despair within his eyes.

“I didn’t... I didn’t mean to,” he stammered out, the defiance fading to give way to regret. “I thought...”

“You thought what?” Kieran snapped from my side, clearly losing patience with Killian’s excuses. “That aligning yourself with Orsini would give you a better standing? That he’d treat you any better than someone who considered you a brother did?”

Killian swallowed, rolling his shoulders back, the overhead bulb flicking from above him.

He looked like he was about to come back with another excuse, but I held up a hand, silencing him. “Enough,” I said quietly.

“I thought it was my only option,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze shifted between us, desperation clawing its way onto his features.

“Killian,” I began, pinching the bridge of my nose as I prepared for the inevitable. “You know there’s no way out of this.”

His eyes widened at my words, and he took a shaky step backwards, colliding with the grungy wall behind him. He seemed to shrink in on himself, looking smaller than I’ve ever seen him before.

“I know,” he choked out, his voice cracked and broken. He was silent for a moment before adding softly, “I’m sorry.”

His apology hung in the air, a bitter melody playing on the strings of old loyalties. I watched him then, this man who’d once been a trusted part of our family, now reduced to a pathetic figure trembling in the harsh light of his betrayal.

“Sorry.” The word tasted sour on my tongue. “You’re sorry.”

He nodded, a desperate affirmation that did nothing to ease the tension coiled tightly within the room. “I am...Tristan, I really am.”

Kieran scoffed from beside me, his impatience with Killian’s remorse clear as day. “Your apologies can’t save you now.”

And he was right.

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