Page 63 of Captive Bride

We placed the babies in their cribs, holding our breath as we eased them out of the carriers. They stirred slightly but didn't wake. I felt a rush of relief wash over me.

"They're really here," Adriana whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Safe."

Yeah. For now.

I thought it, but I didn’t say it. I knew Adriana was freaking out…I didn’t want to make it worse.

We stood there for a moment, watching the twins' peaceful slumber. The reality of our situation began to settle in. We weren't out of danger yet.

“Let’s go back to the living room. I don’t want to wake them.”

She nodded, and we made our way to my living room. “It feels like we haven’t been here for so long,” she said.

“We haven’t.”

"God, I needed this," she breathed out, running a hand through her short, dark hair—disheveled from the day's haste.

"Same here," I agreed, feeling the tension drain from my broad shoulders. The safety of this space was a balm for the soul, a brief respite from the chaos that had become our normal.

Adriana shifted, pulling her phone from the pocket of her jeans with a determined look. "I should call them now." She always was the one to face things head-on.

"Your parents?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Who else?" She shot me a wry smile before dialing, her gaze holding mine until the line connected. I watched her, admiration stirring in my chest for her ability to craft words like a master, even under stress.

"Hey, Mom, it's Ade... Yes, we're safe, we're at Tristan's place in Boston." Her voice held a steady warmth, but I could hear the undertone of urgency as she spoke. "No, no, nothing's wrong. We just needed some quiet, you know? With the twins and all..."

She paused, listening to her mother's response, then glanced at me with a faint grin. "Tristan is beat. The drive up here took more out of him than he'll admit."

It was half-true; the fatigue was real enough, but it wasn't just the drive. It was everything—the unending tug-of-war between duty and desire, the constant need to protect what was mine. Adriana knew it as well as I did.

Killing the Millers, dismembering the Millers, throwing the Millers in the ocean…I was also exhausted from that.

“No, he’s doing a lot better,” Adriana said. “He’ll be walking in no time. But that’s a long trip, Mom. Yeah, the accident was really scary. No, we’ll be okay. Seriously. You’ll see the little ones again soon!”

Her words were carefully chosen, a subtle dance around the truth that would keep her parents from worrying too much while still conveying the gravity of our situation. The Orsini intuition was a thing of beauty, and right now, it was our best defense.

"Thanks, Mom. We'll come visit when things settle down. Love you." She ended the call and set the phone aside, leaning back against the couch with a long exhale.

"Masterfully done," I commended.

"Comes with the territory," she quipped."When your life is a web of secrets and survival, you learn to weave well."

"Speaking of which..." I hesitated for just a moment, the weight of what came next pressing down on me. "There's something we need to discuss. About our future—and the kids."

Adriana turned to me, her keen eyes searching mine. "I'm listening."

"Let's just take a minute first. To breathe." I gestured vaguely around the room, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the floor. "One quiet moment before we dive back in."

"Deal," she agreed, and together we sat in silence, taking solace in the calm before forging ahead into whatever storm lay waiting.

It didn’t last very long.

The wails broke through the stillness of the room, shrill and demanding. I moved to stand, but Adriana was already on her feet, her dark hair swinging as she turned towards the sound.

"Let me just—" She paused at the doorway, tossing a glance over her shoulder that was all maternal fierceness and Orsini composure. "You coming?"

"Give me two minutes." My voice was a low promise as I reached for my phone. "Need to make a call."

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