Chapter 11–Protect That Girl

Tristan’s POV

Daniel and I stepped out of the study, the door closing softly behind us.

I walked downstairs, my steps measured. Daniel followed.

Abuela sat comfortably in the living area, Patricia beside her. They were mid-conversation, their expressions relaxed.

“Where’s Natasha?” I asked, my eyes scanning the room.

Patricia looked up first. “Oh. You just missed her.”

My brows furrowed slightly.

“Missed her?”

“She said she had to leave,” Abuela added gently. “Something came up.”

My gaze sharpened. “Did she say anything else?”

Patricia shook her head. “No. Just that she needed to go.”

“Okay,” I said.

There was a brief pause.

“Didn’t she tell you she was leaving?” Abuela asked, looking surprised.

“Tell me she was leaving? I left her with you downstairs.”

“I thought she came to your study,” Patricia said.

“She came to my study?” I asked.

Abuela nodded. “Yes. She said you mentioned some documents.”

The silence that followed stretched thin.

I didn’t move. My mind replayed the last few minutes.

The door slightly open. The conversation with Daniel. The timing. It all made sense now.

A quiet curse slipped under my breath.

“Shit.”

My eyes flicked to Daniel. He was watching me quietly. Something unreadable passed through his expression before it settled—like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

And in that brief moment, it clicked. She hadn’t just come to the study.

Patricia frowned. “What is it, Tristan?”

“How long was she there?” I asked, my voice calmer now.

“I’m not sure,” Patricia replied. “We didn’t think much of it.”

“What exactly did she say before she left?” I asked.

Abuela studied me more closely now.

“We told you earlier, she said she had to leave. Something came up. Although…” Abuela hesitated slightly. “She seemed different…”

That was enough. I exhaled slowly, running a hand across my jaw. Of course she heard it. Or at least—enough of it. I didn’t think she knew of her father’s mess.

My gaze darkened slightly, but my posture remained relaxed.

“What is the problem, Tristan?”

Abuela’s voice cut through my thoughts.

I looked at her. Really looked this time.

She wasn’t asking out of curiosity. She already knew something was wrong.

I held her gaze for a moment, weighing my options.

I began pacing the room, rubbing the back of my neck.

“She wasn’t supposed to find out like this,” I muttered.

Abuela straightened slightly.

“Find out what?”

I moved closer, stopping just in front of them.

“Patricia, go to your room. I need to speak with Abuela.”

Patricia hesitated for a bit, then she stood.

“I’ll be in my room.”

I looked at Daniel.

He didn’t need to be told. “I’ll be on my way now. Goodbye, Madam Adelina.”

Silence filled the room again.

I let out a silent breath through my nose.

“Talk to me, Tristan. What is going on?” Abuela said softly.

“This arrangement with Natasha… it didn’t start the way you think.”

Abuela didn’t interrupt. She simply listened.

“Yes, I know I told you we met a long time ago,” I continued, “but it’s not like that.”

“Her father approached me.”

Abuela’s brows furrowed slightly. “For what?”

“To stabilize his company,” I replied. “Financially. Structurally. Whatever it took to keep it from collapsing.”

“That doesn’t sound unusual,” Abuela said.

There was a brief silence.

“I asked him what was in it for me, and he told me he was going to do anything.”

I paused briefly.

“I thought he meant business. Control. Assets. Something I could measure.”

My gaze hardened slightly.

“Then Natasha came into the picture.”

A beat of silence.

“Not directly. But enough for me to understand what he was offering.”

“I didn’t ask for her,” I added. “I didn’t refuse either.”

The silence returned.

“And it would have been better if that was all there was to it.” I said.

The room grew quieter.

“There are… other ties,” I continued. “Deals he didn’t close. People he owed and pissed off.”

Abuela remained silent.

“The syndicate, underworld whatnot,” I added flatly.

The words settled heavily between us.

Abuela didn’t flinch.

“Go on.”

My jaw tightened slightly.

“There’s a bounty on him now,” I said. “And not just him. His family.”

Abuela inhaled sharply.

“And Natasha?”

My gaze flickered briefly before settling again.

“She’s included.”

Heavy silence followed.

Abuela leaned back slightly, her expression thoughtful rather than alarmed.

“So what are you going to do? Because you’re clearly not walking away from this,” she said, her voice firm.

I didn’t answer immediately.

“This is complicated, Abuela.” I said finally.

“It definitely is complicated,” Abuela agreed.

I looked at her.

“She’s already involved, Tristan,” she continued. “Whether you step in or not, it changes nothing.”

Abuela tapped the seat next to her. “Sit.”

I took the seat next to her as she leaned in, taking my hand into hers.

“Do what needs to be done, Tristan,” she said, her voice calm. “You protect that girl in every way you can.”

Her words landed.

“You might not know it,” she continued. “But I have considered that girl part of my family. And you’re not running away from this.”

I didn’t respond immediately, but my expression shifted.

“You like her already? I only left her with you for like what… thirty minutes?” I teased.

“Yes. I do,” she replied, smiling. “Turns out she’s a family to an old friend. But that isn’t why I want you to do this.”

She paused.

“I like her personality,” she continued. “She’s decent. She does suit your kind of personality. And you need a wife. The fact that you didn’t even refuse his offer shows that.”

I exhaled softly, shaking my head once.

This wasn’t about personalities anymore. Neither was it about needing a wife.

It was about control. About risk.

About making sure the situation didn’t spiral beyond my reach.

“For my sake, Tristan.” Abuela said, her voice cutting through my thoughts.

There it is. She knew I’d do anything for her, even if it meant stepping into a mess that had nothing to do with me.

“Alright, Abuela. I’ll do as you say.”

“Good. Thank you,” she said.

“Get some rest, Abuela. I have to go,” I said, squeezing her hand gently.

I stood up and walked out the front door.

The moment I stepped out, I saw the car that had picked Natasha up this morning, driving into the garage. I waited for the driver to step out.

“Where’s Natasha?” I asked.

“She asked me to drop her off at Whitmore Industries,” he replied.

“Okay.”

Daniel was waiting at the garage. He straightened up immediately.

“Boss.”

“Get me everything,” I said, my voice low. “Movements. Contacts. Who Marcus had deals with. That way, we know which syndicate wants the Whitmores dead.”

Daniel nodded. “On it.”

“Also…” I paused. “I want eyes on her.”