Page 52 of False Heir

“Since when are you interested in dusty old heirlooms?” I asked skeptically, unable to mask my confusion.

“Since it might offer us more than just nostalgia.” Kieran walked toward the kitchen. He stalked around the box, and his fingers grazed the surface of it, tracing the intricate carvings as though they might reveal their secrets to his touch alone. “There are stories, Tristan, legends even. They might have more to do with our family than you understand. This box could be the key to understanding them—and maybe even to securing our future. Securing the twins’ future.”

Adriana folded her arms, eyeing Kieran with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. “You think there’s something in there that can help us now? I thought you said it was useless.”

“Why would someone plant a box in Catherine’s old family cabin if it was useless? No, this isn’t useless,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I genuinely don’t believe it can be.”

“But we keep hitting a brick wall whenever we try to do something with it. Do you have any ideas?” I asked, quite aware he probably did not have any ideas.

“Potentially,” Kieran responded, his expression unreadable. “There’s a historian at Harvard, specializes in criminal legacies—mafia dynasties, specifically. He’s got a reputation for being able to unearth things others miss. And, well, he’s not hard on the eyes either, from what I’ve heard.”

“Is that supposed to sweeten the deal?” Adriana quipped, though a flicker of interest sparked in her eyes.

“Couldn’t hurt,” Kieran replied with a half-smile that rarely made an appearance.

“Kieran, is this really about the family history?” I pressed, trying to gauge his angle. His ideas were typically calculated, but this seemed almost impulsive.

“Isn’t everything we do about family history? Our actions today are tomorrow’s legends, brother.” Kieran’s tone held a rare sincerity that made me pause. “And if there’s a chance that this box holds answers about how to navigate the treacherous waters we find ourselves in, it’s worth exploring.”

“Alright,” I conceded, feeling the weight of Kieran’s words. “We’ll look into it. But this isn’t a distraction, Kieran. Not from this,” I gestured between myself and Adriana.

“Of course not,” Kieran assured. “Consider it an... additional avenue to explore. One that might just unite past and present, giving us the edge we need. And honestly, you guys might just need a little time. Things are really intense right now.”

“Alright, let’s have it then,” Adriana said, her eyes sharpening with focus as she reached for the box. She flipped a letter we’d already looked at in her hands. “What’s so special about this?”

Kieran leaned back, a calculated ease in his posture that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t know. How about its location? It’s weird it was in the ground for no reason, right?”

“I guess,” Adriana said.

I watched them having this conversation as if she hadn’t almost broken up with me less than twenty minutes ago and my heart jackhammered in my chest.

“Look at the box itself,” Kieran said. “Looks like it’s full of secrets.”

“Secrets?” Her curiosity piqued, and I noticed the way her fingers lingered on the intricate carvings of the box. “Like what?”

“Like how to stay alive when everyone around you is playing for keeps.” Kieran’s response was cryptic, but it struck a chord.

“Is this about survival or history?” Adriana probed further, sensing there was more beneath the surface.

“Can’t it be both?” Kieran offered a noncommittal shrug. “I’m not particularly interested in dusty old tales. I am, however, very interested in not ending up dead. And if there’s wisdom in here that can prevent that, I want it.”

“Fair enough,” she conceded, her gaze flicking to me. “And you, Tristan? What’s your take?”

My head pounded. I fidgeted with the cuff of my shirt, suddenly feeling like I was under a spotlight. All I wanted was to keep her safe, to ensure we had a future, but Kieran’s sudden dive into our past made me uneasy.

“My take? Fuck, I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know how this keeps us alive. But hey, whatever it takes, right?”

Kieran’s eyes narrowed. For a second, I thought he was going to say something. But then he shrugged. “Yeah, lad, that’s right,” he said. “Whatever it takes.”

Chapter Twenty-One: Tristan

I watched Adriana from across the room, my heart quietly hammering against my chest as she worked on the box with a focused intensity. She didn’t know I was studying her, noting the way her short dark hair framed her face in a way that made her look both tough and vulnerable. The sharp angles of her jaw flexed as she concentrated, her athletic build leaning over the task with a professional grace that made me appreciate the view.

She was showing now, and I could see her bump from her profile. I could’ve watched her all day long.

My brother cleared his throat and my gaze went to him as he sat down on a stool.

Kieran, meanwhile, had his attention glued to his phone, thumbs flicking across the screen in rapid succession. Whatever world he was delving into within that digital realm, it was a stark contrast to the tangible tension here in the hideaway townhouse in Boston.

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