Page 5 of False Heir

“No,” my father said after a pause. “Not intentionally. But Tristan, your family history speaks for itself. Your father may have built an empire but at the cost of… “

“Don’t.” Tristan warned, his voice like ice.

And just as he was about to say something else, another wave of nausea hit me, and I had to stop listening to them.

Chapter Three: Tristan

I wanted to kill Silvio Orsini so much.

But…this was not the time.

The air in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Silvio was sitting across from me, his suit pristine as he leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. I stood my ground, blood soaking through my shirt like a bad omen, my heart pounding a steady rhythm of impending doom.

“Malachy did what he had to do,” I said, my voice low and controlled—a stark contrast to the chaos that churned inside me. “He wasn’t perfect, but he made sure I never wanted for anything.”

“Providing for you doesn’t excuse the man’s sins, Tristan,” Silvio retorted, the edge in his words sharp enough to draw blood. “Honor is earned by actions, not by filling a bank account with dirty money.”

“Is that right?” I shot back, clenching my fists at my sides. “And where was your honor when you negotiated to have your daughter sleep with a Callahan?”

“It might’ve been foolish, but I thought she would wait until the wedding night. In any case, Adriana deserved better than what you gave her,” he countered without missing a beat. “You knew she was carrying your child before you even considered making it right.”

A muscle ticked in my jaw, as I fought to keep my composure. I didn’t want to think about those sleepless nights, the way fear had clawed at my insides when I realized Adriana was pregnant. The future we could’ve had—but now, it all hung by a thread.

“Things aren’t always black and white, Silvio,” I muttered, looking away. My hands were stained—not just with my own blood, but with the murky shades of my past decisions. “Life’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Complicated?” Silvio’s voice rose, a rare crack in his composed facade. “You call abandoning the woman you claim to love ‘complicated’?”

I glared at him, feeling the heat of my own anger matching his. “I stepped back because I loved her,” I said through gritted teeth. “Because what we are—what our families are—it’s a noose around her neck. You think I wanted to drag Adriana deeper into this mess? You’re the one who wanted to bribe me to get away from her and now you’re angry I pulled away?”

“I’m angry you hurt her. I’m angry your presence continues to hurt her,” Silvio said. “And love…”

I waited for him, even though what I really, really wanted to do was kill him.

He scoffed with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You’re just like your father, Tristan. To him, your mother was nothing but an incubator for the next generation of Callahans. You’ve already proven that this is what Adriana was to you.”

That hit a nerve. He might as well have slapped me across the face. My hand twitched, the urge to retaliate burned through my veins like wildfire. But I knew that wouldn’t solve anything—not here, not now.

“Adriana is more than that, and you damn well know it,” I snapped, each word laced with venom. “Don’t you dare reduce her to such a vile role in your petty attempt to wound me.”

“Petty?” The lines on Silvio’s forehead deepened, his jaw set stubbornly. “I’m fighting for my daughter’s future, something you seem to have cast aside too easily.”

“Her future...” I echoed, my voice trailing off. Could I even promise her one, amidst all this bloodshed and betrayal? I’d tried to protect her from the darkness that tainted my life, but in doing so, had I merely handed her over to it?

“Her happiness should be your priority,” Silvio continued, his tone softening only slightly. “And if you can’t give her that, then you’ve no right to keep her tied to you.”

“Trust me,” I replied, meeting his gaze squarely, “no one knows that better than I do.”

“Then maybe you’ll understand why I can’t just let things slide,” Silvio said, his voice a mix of steel and sorrow. “No father would.”

I nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. It was true, after all. If I were in his shoes, I’d probably be doing the same damn thing. The thought of killing him had crossed my mind more than once during our conversation—my fingers itching for the cold kiss of the trigger against my skin. But looking at him now, seeing that familiar pain etched into his features, I knew I wouldn’t act on it—not yet, not while I was still reeling from the punches life had thrown at me.

“Silvio…” I started, but before I could continue, my phone vibrated in my pocket. A buzzing reminder of a world that refused to pause even when you needed a damn breather. I pulled it out only to glance at the caller ID, then shoved it back with a curse under my breath. Sean could wait; this couldn’t.

“Your empire is calling,” Silvio observed dryly, raising an eyebrow as he noted my dismissal of the call.

“Let it burn,” I muttered. “We’re not done here.”

“Looks like we both have pressing matters,” Silvio replied, his own phone starting to ring. He pulled it from his coat pocket, a sleek piece of technology that seemed at odds with the old-world charm he carried around like a shield.

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