“I’m an old man, Tristan. It feels like I’ve lived more lives than I should. I’ve asked my Sofia to accept a life of danger, a life where I may not come home one night. It was all I knew. All your father knew.” Looking into Tristan’s eyes, he smiled. “She stood by my side for forty-years in a world that told her she was a second-class citizen. Yet, she loved me for all these years, through all the tears I caused her. The deaths, the blood, the betrayals.”
Looking over at the man sitting next to him, Tristan knew he wasn’t perfect. They were both flawed human beings. None of them were perfect, and never would be. He knew about some of the things his uncle referred to but chose to stay quiet. Death and blood were par for the course. The betrayals to his marriage were none of his business, and would remain so. If his aunt chose to still love him and stayed by his side in spite of the nights she’d spent alone waiting for her husband to come home, that was her call.
One thing he knew was that Camille would never have to deal with that. There was no one else he wanted more than her. She was his light, his beacon home when the night became too dark.
His lifestyle had already put her in danger. Her best friend was in the hospital fighting for her life. Her friend D was gathering resources to help Tristan hunt down Marco. The darkness in that young man’s gaze had changed, deepened over the past twenty-four hours. He’d never been the same person he was before he’d seen his friend gunned down.
For that, Tristan would have to atone.
Camille’s father had come out of retirement and burned down the door he’d walked through to get to the other side. Shaking his head at the conversation he’d been privy to; he was disappointed that his family drama had caused a rift between father and daughter. She wasn’t as upset with her mother, but she wasn’t pleased with her either. He’d never wanted her father’s history to come out this way. He hadn’t been ready to tell, and Camille had been in no position to listen.
Another thing Tristan would have to atone for.
Turning his attention back to his uncle, he waited as the old man gathered his thoughts. Tristan was ready to move forward but knew he needed to do this the right way. He loved his uncle. Would not push him out. But it was time.
“I love my son, Tristan. But this, what he has done… what he planned to do… I cannot forgive. He’s hiding like a coward. He broke his mother’s heart. He tore through our family bond, leaving heartache in his wake.”
Tristan knew exactly where Marco was. His call to Conall O’Shea a few weeks ago had borne fruit. His friend across the river kept his side of the bargain. Tristan would make sure their partnership stayed in place.
“DonRoberto,” Tristan called out to his uncle using the honorific he was entitled to.
“No, Tristan. Uncle Roberto to you from now on. It is time that I retire. It is time to spend time with my Sofia. Martina, although independent and living on her own, will still need her cousin. Will you care for her as you should?”
“Yes.”
Nodding, he stood from the chair. He placed his empty glass on the table. “I have a few things to finish up to close out some business, but you and I will discuss everything soon. Once you finish what must be done, we will complete the transition. Until then, I will keep things running for you. Unless you disagree?”
“No. I don’t disagree. Uncle, it did not have to go down this way.”
Waving his hand at Tristan, he nodded. “Yes, I think it did. You were always meant to be the heir. If your father had lived, he would have been head of the family. I would have been happy to be the carefree brother, supporting as needed. When he was ripped from our lives, everything changed. But everything remained the same.”
Tristan had heard these words before, so he was not shocked by what his uncle said.
“You were always meant for this world, even as you fought to be different. Your father’s blood flows through your veins. In fact, you are not the first to own the name Death Bringer.” Looking at Tristan with a smile on his face, his eyes took a soft glow, as if remembering something grand. “Your father was the second Death Bringer, and your grandfather was the first. This has always been your path.”
Tristan stood. A warm feeling flowed through his body, and he knew it was his acceptance of the mantle he’d been given. Yes, he’d tried to fight his legacy for too long. Now it was time to walk in the footsteps of his uncle, father, and grandfather.
“Uncle.” As the man caught his eyes, he continued, “You were good to me. Raised me well. I always felt loved in this home. I know my father is proud of the man I’ve become, and we owe that to you. For as long as you and Aunt Sofia live, I will honor you.”
He could tell his uncle’s emotions were coming to the surface, so this meeting had to end.
“Go. Take care of your futureDonnaand her extended family.”
“Ciao,zioRoberto.”
“Ciao,Tristan.”
Walking out the door, Tristan knew the next time he entered, he’d not only be leading the family, but he’d also be the killer of his own cousin.
He could live with that.
*****
Tristan walked into the hospital room to see a group gathered around Shandra’s bed. Camille saw him first and came over to him for a hug. Wrapping her in his arms, he knew he was making the right decision.
“I love you, Camille. Never forget that. No matter what happens, know that my purpose is to protect you, and your family. You mean everything to me.”
She raised her gaze to his, her smile huge on her beautiful face. “I know you do. You were just afraid to say it, and that’s okay.”