Page 39 of False Heir

“Always the diplomat, Tristan,” Kieran murmured, his tone almost mocking.

Liam leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingers laced together. “He’s not going to talk his way out of this one, right?”

“Talk or not,” I replied, “his fate’s in his own hands now.”

The drive there was slow. The cabbie didn’t talk to us at all, but then the car turned a corner, the industrial skeletons of buildings looming ahead. This was where loyalty was tested, where truths were laid bare.

As we neared our destination, the driver, knowing better than to ask questions, dropped us off without a word. We watched the taillights fade before gearing up. Kieran checked his weapon with practiced ease, his movements precise and unhurried. Liam rolled his shoulders. I supposed he was more ready than I wanted to give him credit for. And me? I felt the familiar cold calm settle in my chest.

“Let’s end this tonight,” I stated, a quiet command that brooked no argument.

“End it we will,” Kieran agreed. There was no humor in his voice now.

“About damn time,” Liam added, a hard grin flashing across his face.

We set out for the warehouse where Kieran told me Killian was hiding. Each step took us deeper into the belly of Boston’s underbelly, a place where even the streetlights seemed to hesitate. But hesitation wasn’t something the Callahan brothers could afford—not with so much at stake.

The warehouse stood tall and imposing in the dead of night, its darkened windows casting an eerie glow. We entered with practiced stealth, our movements fluid and calculated as we made our way through the abandoned halls.

Inside, the vast space was littered with remnants of a forgotten past - discarded machinery and broken pallets scattered about. And there, standing amidst the debris, was Killian. Despite the dim lighting, I could see that he had made this place his home, with makeshift living quarters set up in one corner.

“Welcome, boys,” he greeted us with a sly smile, gesturing to a makeshift bar stocked with bottles of liquor. “Care for a drink?” It was clear that Killian was prepared for our arrival, but it was also evident that he knew he was no match for us.

“This isn’t a social call,” I said.

“I know,” he replied, pouring himself a drink. “Don’t mind if I do.”

He poured himself a shot of vodka. Drank it. Then another one.

“Didn’t think you’d come alone,” he said, though his voice carried the weight of a man who knew he was outmatched.

“I’m not alone,” I said.

His gaze darted between me and my brothers. “Don’t be smart, Tristan. You know what I mean.”

“Wouldn’t matter if we brought an army, Killian,” Kieran interjected, his voice laced with a cold edge. “Outcome would still be the same.”

My eyes never left Killian as I nodded in agreement. “Let’s not waste words, Killian,” I told him, my tone matching Kieran’s. “You know why we’re here.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, pouring himself another drink. “Thought it might be for a friendly chat. Maybe catch up on old times.”

The room was heavy with tension; his words echoing off the cold, concrete walls. Liam fidgeted next to me, clearly itching for action.

God, he was so drunk. I had no idea how he was standing.

I tried not to think about that, focusing on Killian instead.

“I could execute you, but I’m going to let you talk first,” I said. “And then, depending on what you say, I’m going to put a bullet in your head.”

“Orsini made me an offer,” Killian began, the defensive set of his shoulders betraying his attempt at bravado. His gaze darted between us, looking for an out he wouldn’t find.

“Could’ve paid you more,” I said, letting a dry chuckle escape. Money had never been the issue. Not really.

“It wasn’t about the money, Tristan,” Killian spat, the bitterness evident. “It’s about respect. Being seen.”

“Respected?” I laughed, the sound echoing against metal and concrete. “By Silvio Orsini? You can’t be serious. That shark played you, Killian.”

His eyes shifted away, unable to meet mine, and something inside me twisted. This was the ugly side of our world, where the desperate and the power-hungry collided, leaving destruction in their wake.

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