Page 38 of False Heir

Carmen craned her neck to look back again. “Yeah, don’t worry about them,” she said. “They’re always watching anyway.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” she said, shrugging. She didn’t sound sure at all.

I tried not to let it get to me, but as we quietly got in the car, I knew one thing for sure.

Things were getting worse.

We were being watched, Dad was getting crazier, and Tristan’s men were betraying him.

And if I wasn’t careful, Tristan would be the one paying for it.

But…I would do anything I could to make sure he got out of this alive.

Chapter Fifteen: Tristan

Ray was right. I was going to do something about Killian.

I just didn’t have any reason to involve any of my capos when they could’ve been plotting against me behind the scenes.

The city lay quiet as a crypt, the night’s embrace tight around Boston’s sleeping streets. Kieran and I were still outside, chatting as my mind raced with thoughts dark as the shadows that clung to the alleyways. Killian’s treachery gnawed at me like a rat to a wire, his betrayal not just a cut but a wound that threatened the lifeblood of my family—Adriana and our unborn twins.

“Tristan, you sure ’bout this?” Kieran leaned against the brick wall, his voice laced with whiskey and skepticism. His dark hair was tousled, a stark contrast against the pale glow of the streetlight that bathed half his face in an eerie light.

“Sure as death,” I murmured, standing upright and trying to ignore the nausea from the sudden movement. The night air nipped at my skin, carrying the scent of rain-soaked asphalt. “And just as final. You’re sure of his location?”

“Yeah, I have–” Kieran waved his phone in the air sloppily. “I’ve been tracking him for days. I assumed we were going to do something.”

He was right. At the beginning of the night, I thought it would be something more analytical than this, but now, I was just letting the liquor take over.

The lads were right: we couldn’t just let Killian get away with this, and my brothers were already here…maybe while they spied on each other, my brothers and I could take care of the Killian situation tonight.

I didn’t wait for him; I knew he’d follow. He always did. We found Liam inside the pub, his laughter booming over the din of drunken revelry. He had that flush to his cheeks, eyes bright with the thrill of the night.

“Time to go, little brother.” I clapped a hand on Liam’s back, feeling the solidness of his frame beneath my palm.

“Already? But the party’s just getting started!” Liam protested, though he allowed himself to be steered toward the exit. His easy grin never faltered, even as we left the warmth of the bar behind.

“You said you were in,” I said as we stepped out into the night. “I will pay for you to go to college.”

He sighed. “No, it’s fine,” he said. “I want to–just let me text Ali, I don’t want her to think I left her alone for no reason.”

I watched him fish his phone out of his pocket. When he was done, he looked at me.

“Killian won’t be expecting us,” I said, my voice low and firm. We strode through the darkened streets, my brothers flanking me like the loyal guards they were. “He thinks he’s safe. Thinks we’re too fractured to come after him.”

“United front, huh?” Liam chuckled, but there was a hard edge to it now. “Let’s give him a show.”

“Exactly,” I agreed, glancing at Kieran, who nodded once, sharply.

“Killian needs to see what happens when you cross the Callahan bloodline,” I continued, our destination drawing nearer with every step. “He needs to understand the strength he betrayed. And there’s no…we can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

As we moved through the night, I felt the weight of leadership heavy on my shoulders. It was a mantle borne of necessity, woven from threads of love and duty. Tonight, I would remind Killian—and anyone else who dared forget—that the Callahan legacy was not one to be trifled with.

The car we called pulled up, its headlights briefly illuminating the broken pavement near the Irish Rover. We climbed into the backseat, and as the car began to move, silence settled over us, heavy and expectant.

“Remember,” I said quietly, breaking the stillness, “no matter what Killian’s reasons were, he chose his path. We’re just here to remind him of the consequences.”

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