Page 82 of False Heir

“Understood,” I said, rising to my feet. My path was set, the die cast. Now all that remained was to play my part—and pray that I could survive the finale.

The chill of the Orsini estate in Boston’s winter morning clung to my skin as I rose from the ornate dining chair. The crystal glasses on the table caught the light, but none of it seemed to reach the hollow inside me. Silvio, with his salt-and-pepper hair catching the sun’s rays, stood up, a satisfied smile upon his lips.

“Let me bring out some champagne to celebrate,” he said, his voice a smooth, rich timbre that belied the dangerous man beneath.

I nodded, feeling the lie curling in my throat like bitter smoke. “Actually,” I began, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside, my hands going to my bump. “I’m not feeling too well. I think I need to go back home and rest. And it’s not like I can drink the champaign, Daddy.”

“Of course,” he replied, the smile widening into a grin. “Silly me.”

Carmen looked at me for a long second. “Of course,” she said crisply, “I’ll drive you.”

“Rest then, Adriana,” my dad said. “I know things have been wild. Let’s reinstate Sunday brunch. Your mother misses seeing you every week.”

With a last look at my father, I followed Carmen out of the room, the marble floors echoing our departure.

As soon as we settled into Carmen’s car, the tension that had been coiling in my chest began to unravel. Carmen turned the key in the ignition, the purr of the engine a soft backdrop to the inevitable conversation.

“Did you mean what you said back there?” Her voice was direct, cutting through the silence.

“No.” The word was out before I could catch it. “Regardless of everything, I love Tristan.”

“Then what are you going to do?” she asked, pulling away from the estate, her gaze fixed on the road ahead.

My fingers drummed against the leather seat, the rhythm erratic. “I don’t know,” I admitted, staring out the window at the blur of snow-covered streets. “But it’s clear someone needs to die.”

Chapter Thirty-Five: Tristan

I needed answers from Kieran.

The sun was already high, its light seeping around the edges of the blinds when I stepped into Kieran's apartment, my hand clutching a paper bag from McDonald's. I nudged a discarded shoe out of the way with my foot, making my way to where he lay sprawled on the couch.

"Hey," I said, a bit louder than necessary. "Wake up."

Kieran groaned, one arm flung over his eyes as if to block out the morning and everything it brought with it. I set the water and Aleve on the coffee table. He reached for the pills before even opening his eyes, a practiced motion of someone too familiar with hangovers.

"Got you breakfast." I pushed the greasy bag toward him, the smell of hash browns cutting through the stale air.

His eyes blinked open, squinting against the light. "I'm not hungry."

"Too bad," I muttered, watching him struggle into a sitting position. "You need to eat. And we need to talk."

"About what?" He took a cautious sip of water, his gaze flickering to mine.

"Last night," I began, my words clipped as I paced the room, feeling the weight of my authority like a second skin. "About why I was looking for you. Why were you so drunk at the Irish Rover?”

"Doesn't matter," he mumbled, finally unwrapping the sandwich with less enthusiasm than a man walking to the gallows.

"Like hell it doesn't." I stopped in front of him, anger simmering just below the surface. "You've been meeting with Silvio. Secret meetings. Why?"

He paused, burger halfway to his mouth, and for a moment, I saw something flash in his eyes—a mix of defiance and something else I couldn't quite place. Fear? Guilt?

"Kieran," I pressed, needing answers more than I needed air. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

He sighed, setting the food back down, uneaten. "It's complicated, Tristan."

"Uncomplicate it," I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest.

Kieran looked up at me, and there was a rawness to him that I rarely saw. He always held himself apart, shrouded in secrets and silence. But now, his guard was down, if only for a moment.

---