Page 58 of Captive Bride

Silvio followed, his features softer than I remembered, as if grandfatherhood had sanded away some of his edge. "Let me see them," he said, a rare crack in his stoic exterior revealing a glimpse of excitement.

Alessia reached for the baby in Tristan's arms first, cooing words of endearment as she took her granddaughter carefully into her own experienced hold. Silvio watched, his gaze fixed on the newborn with a tenderness that seemed at odds with the man who had navigated the treacherous waters of our world with iron-fisted control.

"Ah, they have the Callahan eyes," my mom noted, her attention shifting to the infant in my arms.

"Thank goodness, not the Orsini temperament," Dad added with a chuckle, which earned him a playful swat from my mother.

Tristan's lips quirked up in a small, knowing smile, as he caught my eye, silent conversations passing between us as always. Kieran lingered by the door, his usual quiet self, while Carmen fussed over blankets and baby things with all the fervor of an excited aunt.

"Come, let's sit. You must be exhausted after the journey," my mother suggested, leading the way into the living room, where sunlight spilled across plush sofas and warmed the rich wood of the coffee table.

As we settled, the twins became the center of everyone's universe, their tiny fists and closed eyes working like a charm tosoften even the hardest of hearts. For a moment, the weight of our recent trials seemed to lift, replaced by joy and the simple pleasure of family gathered together.

But all the laughter and cooing over the twins couldn't mask the tension that clung to the air like a winter's chill in the Orsini estate. The joy of new life, a stark reminder of all we stood to lose in this dangerous game we were born into. My mother's fingers, gentle as they danced over the tiny brows of the slumbering infants, held a tremble only I seemed to notice. "We'll take the babies for a bit," Alessia murmured, her voice soothing yet laced with an unspoken urgency. Silvio nodded, his stern face softening as he cradled one of the twins against his chest.

"Let's step outside," Tristan said suddenly, his words cutting through the momentary peace like a sharp breeze. His blue eyes met mine, a silent command that spoke of more than just a need for fresh air.

In the garden, the bare branches of winter stood witness to our clandestine council. Kieran's shoulders, usually squared with defiance, now seemed to carry the weight of secrets too heavy to bear alone. Liam, with his usual casual stance, appeared out of place among the somber faces. I could see it in their eyes—fear mingled with resolve.

“When did you get here?” Kieran asked him.

Liam shrugged, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Just now. Kieran called, said it was important."

I glanced at Kieran, surprised he'd reached out to our youngest brother. Kieran avoided my gaze, his jaw clenched tight.

“He’s involved in this, too,” Kieran explained. “Bellamy is in his ear.”

“Bellamy is a cunt,” Liam said. “Sorry, Ade.”

I waved off Liam's apology, more concerned with the implications of his words. "What exactly has Bellamy been saying to you?"

Liam shifted uncomfortably, his usual carefree demeanor slipping. "Just... hinting at things. Asking questions about our operations, our plans. Trying to gauge where my loyalties lie, I think."

“Bellamy has been trying to make a move for the Callahan empire for years,” Tristan explained. “He was waiting for Dad to die before he showed his face here. And he had a prior relationship with Kieran, which Kieran only told me about, well, after we had to escape Delaware.”

I felt my stomach clench at Tristan's words. The pieces were starting to fall into place, but the picture they formed was uglier than I'd imagined. I turned to Kieran, my voice barely above a whisper. "What kind of relationship?"

“Well, he’s my uncle,” Kieran said. “He sort of took me under his wing in Dublin. Told me to keep it quiet, said Dad wouldn’t understand.”

“That sounds like a totally normal thing for an adult to ask a thirteen-year-old,” I said.

“Yeah, well, Malachy had just killed my mum, so I didn’t exactly have a lot of men to look up to, did I?” Kieran snapped.

The tension in the air thickened at Kieran's words. I felt a pang of sympathy for my brother-in-law, imagining the lonely, confused boy he must have been. Tristan's jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with a mix of anger and guilt.

"I'm sorry," I said softly. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine," Kieran cut me off, his voice gruff. "It was a long time ago. The point is, Bellamy's been playing the long game. He's been positioning himself for years, waiting for the right moment to strike."

“Dad killed your mum?” Liam asked, his voice thin.

Tristan held up his hand. “That’s not really the point right now.”

“Wait. Did Dad kill my mum?”

Kieran cleared his throat. “I don’t know if now is really the time to talk about…”

“Yes, lad,” Tristan said. “Malachy killed them all.”

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