Page 35 of Captive Bride

"No…" I hesitated, my gaze drifting over the sterile hospital room and landing on the incubators housing my infants. My mind raced as I grappled with the right words.

“I called to tell you you’re an uncle.”

“Ade gave birth?”

“Yeah,” I said. “At home. I assisted, from a wheelchair. It was great. Everything she’s ever dreamed of.”

He laughed. "Yeah, I bet," Kieran chuckled, the sound grating against my raw nerves. "How are they?"

"The twins are...they're premature but strong. In incubators right now," I replied, rubbing a hand over my face as exhaustion began to seep into my bones. "And Adriana...she's okay."

“Do they look like you or her?”

“She says the little girl looks like me. They’re beautiful, but I think they look like scrunched up potatoes.”

“Sounds about right,” Kieran laughed. “You’re going to be a hell of a dad, Tristan.”

“Oh, yeah. Because I had a great role model for fatherhood.”

“I know you’ll do better than Malachy,” he said.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I said, rolling my eyes even though he couldn't see me.

There was a moment of silence and then he said, "Congrats, Tristan. They're lucky to have you."

I swallowed hard, nodding though he wouldn't see that either. I didn't know if I was ready to accept his words yet, their weight heavy with genuine sentiment.

"And Tristan..." Kieran's voice dropped lower as if he understood the tremor running through me. "When you get home, you're going to need help. I'm on my way."

“Wait, what? You can’t come to Delaware. What about Liam? Won’t Bellamy follow you? You’ll be putting us in danger.”

Kieran took a deep breath. “Listen,” Kieran said. “I think you’re already in danger.”

“What?”

“I’ll explain when I get there. Just…after they discharge you from the hospital, promise me you’ll go straight home.”

“Kieran, what’s—”

But before I could ask him what he meant, he’d hung up.

Chapter Sixteen: Adriana

The key turned in the lock with a satisfying click. We stepped over the threshold, and I drew in a breath of home—a mix of lemon polish and the faintest hint of jasmine from last night's cleaning spree. The Delaware house was quiet, its stillness a balm after the cacophony of the city we'd left behind.

"Feels good to be back," Tristan said, his voice echoing slightly in the spacious foyer.

I nodded, slipping off my coat and hanging it with precision on the rack. The journey had been long, but weariness was a luxury I couldn't afford—not when there was so much to be done, so many loose ends that needed tying up. My body protested with stiffness as I moved, but determination was a familiar friend, urging me past the fatigue.

But there was too much to do.

I put things away, returned toiletries to their rightful place.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft glow over the nursery. I stood in the doorway, my heart swelling as I watched Tristan, with deft hands and infinite patience, cradling Catherine Jean against his chest.

"Shh, Cat, daddy's here," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm.

She cooed in response, her tiny fingers curling around one of his. She was the spitting image of Tristan with those striking blue eyes that seemed to hold galaxies within them. Her dark tufts of hair begged for affectionate strokes, and even at this tender age, she had a quiet strength about her.

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