4| Fire-1

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓ Fire ┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛ Chapter 4: Fire (Tristan's POV) "As if the rest of the week wasn't enough, I have to see her again tonight," I scoffed, shaking my head lightly, sitting in my office, wasting time as I tried to avoid the inevitable. On this fine weekend was my uncle's party, the party I knew damn well Amara would be at. She would never miss the opportunity to gloat in front of me. After the case earlier this week, I got one earful after another from my uncle, demanding an explanation I didn't have to offer him. "She's scary, Tristan," Cal replied, "people fear her. Not most, but some of them fear her more than you. You're at least loyal to your allies. Amara doesn't even make allies." My eyes narrowed at him slightly. "You would know, wouldn't you? You're her cousin after all." He snickered and leaned back in his seat. "Well, I'm one of those people who are more afraid of her than I am of you. But I don't give her a reason to hate me. Anyway, I see you far more than I do her. We're not exactly close, remember?" "Yet you both always seem to abide by the whole 'family comes first' rule." "Of course. When I need her help, she's there. So, why wouldn't I do the same?" He lifted his brows at me before standing up and buttoning up his suit. "I'm going to head out. I'll see you tonight at the party." His steps slowed as he neared the door and then spun around to face me again. "Just a word of advice coming from your best friend who just happens to be her cousin. Stay away from her tonight. She'll cut you up if she sees you." "She must be dying to gloat," I retorted. He chuckled in amusement, "She is." Opening the door as he ran a hand through his dark hair, he walked out. I wasn't used to dealing with Amara the way I once did. She had a habit of falling off the grid and escaping me. After seeing her last year when we both worked with Rhys, I hadn't seen her for an entire year. It felt like deja vu, hell, it felt like I went back three years and lived through the year she went missing all over again. I lost touch with her. Amara grew more daring and challenged me more every time she saw me. Frankly, I was starting to predict her moves, yet somehow, that never stopped me from anticipating them. Amara always had a new card up her sleeve but eventually, she'd run out of tricks that she could use against me. I tried several times in the past to pinpoint what made her hate me so much that she went against me but each time I thought about it, I couldn't come to a conclusion. There was no specific incident that harbored such animosity between us. At some point over the years of our friendship as children, the friendship transformed into hatred. We both grew untrusting of each other and drifted apart. We started competing for everything, wanting to be better than the other. But when Amara surprised me by accepting my case three years ago, I saw the faintest glimmer of hope between us, something that could at least help us act civil with each other. But then she disappeared, leaving me without any answers. I had no idea why she disappeared, when she slipped away, or where she went. When she returned a year later, things were different, once again. The hatred and hostility between us kicked up several notches. Amara was resentful, far more than she used to be, and I had no idea why. The only way I ever knew to deal with animosity was to return it, so that was what I did, and that's where we were today. When my phone pinged with my uncle's text, reminding me for the billionth time not to be late, I wrapped everything up in the office and left, scanning the place and ensuring the rest of my employees stayed at work. "Sir, are you leaving?" I stopped in my steps and turned to Amy, my assistant, as she sat at her desk. "Yes, I have personal affairs to deal with tonight. Make sure everything stays on track. Let me know if anything happens." She nodded with a curt smile before I walked away. Even then, I heard her muttering curses at the back of my head. I was difficult to work with, no doubt. I often made life harder for my employees but I knew damn well that if I got too lenient, they could get involved in situations they weren't prepared for. Not all of my employees lived the kind of life that I did, and not all of them worked to defend criminals like I did. Some of these people came in here to give justice a helping hand, which was why it became crucial that those employees are kept safe. Ignorance truly was bliss for them and their loved ones. Once I reached my apartment, I headed upstairs to my room and went straight for a shower, which was after bringing Paris out of the hamper again. It's a strange place for him to like so much… Sighing as I walked out of the bathroom, adjusting the white towel wrapped around my hips, I opened my closet. Keeping my annoyance at bay, I ran a hand through my soaked hair and while ignoring the water still dripping down my chest and back, I took the first suit I could find and laid it out on the bed. When the scratching on my door caught my attention, Paris froze, still waiting at the door, so I let him out and then got dressed. My phone rang on cue, reminding me just how late I intentionally was. The later I go, the less time I'd have to spend there. Ignoring my uncle's calls, I pocketed my phone and took one last glance in the mirror, adjusting my cufflinks and buttoning up the waistcoat before I slipped the suit on and then headed out, pausing in the kitchen to fill up Paris's food bowl and since the kitten himself was nowhere to be found, I left. The drive to The Deviant Hotel was no longer than fifteen minutes and when I arrived, the party was in full swing with the majority of its guests already here, save for the few who preferred being more than just fashionably late. "There he is, Tristan!" I bit my tongue as I turned to the bar where my uncle and a few of his friends stood, beckoning me over. "You're awfully late, son," one of his friends said as Michael put an arm around me. My body instinctively grew rigid in response, it was almost immediate, so I shrugged his grip off and took a step away from him. "I was stuck at the office a little longer than I expected," I lied, pocketing my hands, hoping nobody would notice the way I wanted to clench them into fists. "Oh, that's right, I heard from Anthony." Here we go. "He beat you, didn't he? With that attorney of his… God, what's her name?" "Elijah's daughter," someone else prompted. Sometimes, these men truly were unbelievable. Amara wasn't their attorney, in fact, I was the person they ran to when they desperately needed help saving their ass after committing heinous crimes. "Amara Milano," I said, cutting their little guessing game short. "Perhaps you all should try working with her sometime. Let's see if you all could beat me, hmm? It may not work that way though, right?" "Tristan," Michael warned quietly but I only ignored him. "Don't forget, gentleman, I know more about your businesses and deeds than anyone else. It's too dangerous for you all to dabble between friends and foes. Let's face it, none of you can afford to make me your enemy. So, I'd suggest you get on with the rest of your night, yes?"