Page 45 of False Heir

“Or maybe Bellamy just hated his own name enough to sign off as John,” Kieran mused with a crooked smile, as if amused by his own joke.

“Bellamy…our uncle?” Tristan asked.

“Who knows? I barely remember Uncle Bellamy, let alone his eccentricities,” Kieran admitted, his eyes not leaving the papers. “I mean, it was his middle name. Nana did a number on them calling them Malachy and Bellamy.”

“So you think it was him?” Adriana asked.

“If your first name was Bellamy, wouldn’t you go by your middle name? In any case, signing off as ‘John’ does add a certain...mystery, doesn’t it?”

There was something about the way he said it, a glint in his eye that stirred a mix of suspicion and curiosity within me. It was no secret that Kieran often knew more than he let on, his words laced with double meanings and hidden truths.

“Maybe,” I conceded, folding my arms across my chest as I watched them both—Kieran with his cryptic remarks and Adriana with her relentless search for answers. The gap between what we knew and what we needed to uncover felt as wide as the chasm that had opened up between Adriana and me.

“Let’s keep looking,” I said after a moment, my voice firm, trying to shake off the unease. “We need to find out who’s behind this, regardless of whatever games they’re playing with their signatures.”

“Kieran might be right,” Adriana said, putting the letters down. “My dad…something is going on. It’s like he’s losing control.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, the fabric of my sweats doing nothing to ease the restlessness that gnawed at me. This wasn’t about Silvio Orsini’s mental state; it was about the weight of guilt pressing down on me, the memory of how I had pushed Adriana too far until her slap brought reality crashing back.

“Tristan?” Adriana’s voice sliced through the fog of my regrets, her dark eyes searching mine. “Did you hear me?”

“Sorry, I...” I trailed off, grappling for words that wouldn’t come. How could I confess that the thought of marrying her sent waves of panic through me? That maybe we were better off apart? That last night had essentially proved that?

That she was right to compare me to my father?

“Silvio’s becoming a real threat,” Kieran interjected, unaware of the tumult inside me. “If he loses control, there’s no telling what he’ll do.”

Adriana nodded gravely. “We need to be prepared for anything. My father... he’s not himself anymore.”

Her admission hung in the air, stark, undeniable. I should’ve been thinking about protecting her, us, the twins, from the potential danger her father posed. Instead, my mind raced with thoughts of escape, of breaking the engagement, of sparing her further disappointment. But how could I abandon her when she needed me the most? How could I admit that I was just as flawed as the man spiraling into madness?

“Tristan?” Adriana pressed, her voice laced with concern. “You’re quiet. What’s going on in your head?”

“Nothing. Just can’t shake this headache,” I lied, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Just thinking about what we need to do next.”

My words felt hollow, even to me. As the dawn light filtered through the windows, casting a soft glow over the cabin, I realized the truth: I was trapped in a war with myself, torn between the desire to run and the duty to stay. And somewhere in the depths of my conflicted heart, I feared that my father’s influence might be more ingrained in me than I ever dared to imagine.

“Alright,” Kieran suddenly got up, his chair scraping against the polished wood floor. He stretched, yawning lavishly as he put his finished cup of coffee down. “I think I’ve had my fill of family history for the day.”

Adriana and I looked up, both of us wearing expressions of surprise. His announcement was unexpected, his demeanor oddly light considering the serious nature of our task.

“Wait, you’re just leaving?” Adriana asked. Her voice carried a note of protest that I wasn’t sure was due to his abrupt departure or the looming task of sorting through more letters alone with me.

Kieran shrugged his lean shoulders casually. “I don’t think my input here is necessary anymore. Besides,” he glanced at me and winked, “somebody’s gotta go out there and make sure we’re not being watched. And I think I’m going to check in on Liam. Make sure he’s alive. Bring him a McDonald’s breakfast or something.”

His words were meant to lighten the mood, but they barely scratched the surface of the tension that settled between Adriana and me. I could feel her eyes on me, studying me, trying to decipher the puzzle that was my mind. But how could she, when I didn’t have the answers myself?

Adriana and I exchanged glances but said nothing as Kieran exited the room, leaving behind the faint smell of coffee and an aura of unease. The door shut with a soft click, and we were alone again.

Adriana and I exchanged glances but said nothing as Kieran exited the room, leaving behind the faint smell of coffee and an aura of unease. The door shut with a soft click, and we were alone again.

The silence was almost deafening. A stack of unexplored letters remained between us on the table, the scrawl of various handwritings taunting us with their secrets.

“So are we going to talk about it?” Adriana asked, turning slightly toward me.

“Talk about what?” I replied, my throat dry. I took a sip of my coffee as Adriana watched me.

Adriana leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, her sharp eyes scanning my face. “You’re a terrible liar, Tristan. Talk to me.”

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