The Enforcer or The Mafia Prince

Chapter 45

Despite Ciaran's warning to take security when going out, Tristan ignored his father. He reasoned that they wouldn't need extra protection where they were going. Jessica didn't know where Tristan was taking her and looked worried. He explained they weren't going anywhere public and would be security there. She looked out the window to see the lake on her right. They must be going north. Forty-five minutes later, they drove up to a beautiful estate in Glencoe.

"Where are we?" Jessica looked up in awe at the sprawling single-family estate.

"This is our family home," Tristan replied as he navigated the winding driveway. He parked and jogged around to hold the door open for Jess.

Mouth agape, Jess admired the lush green lawn and beautiful home. The mansion's architectural influence was the Tudor style. But the O'Sullivan's kept it modern white warm white paint and black trim. Jessica could see they kept it in pristine condition.

"I didn't know. Why do you stay at the condo if you have this place?" Jess couldn't imagine wanting to live in a high-rise when this was an option.

"My grandfather brought the building into our collection of assets. After my mother died, my father decided to make that the base of our operations."

"Oh," Jessica didn't know what else to say. Tristan's mother was a sore subject for him.

Tristan offered Jessica his hand as he led her inside. The house was bustling with activity despite no one living there full time. Jess counted three bodyguards stationed outside. Those were only the ones she could see. No wonder Tristan had said they didn't need to bring anyone.

"Ah, Mr. Tristan, welcome home," greeted an older woman. She had a thick accent that Jessica couldn't place.

"Hello, Ms. Martha." Tristan gave the woman a bright grin and a hug. Jessica had never seen him treat anyone with so much love and respect.

"Ms. Martha, this is my girlfriend, Jessica. Jess, this is Ms. Martha. She was my nanny growing up. Now she's in charge of maintaining the home."

"Hello, Ms. Martha," Jessica moved to shake the woman's hand.

Martha brushed the hand aside and hugged Jessica. Tristan had filled Martha in on the entire story from its awful beginning. From her perspective, this was the first girl that Tristan had ever brought home. She'd raised Tristan since he was a baby and cared for him after Rebecca died. Tristan had always shrugged off the idea of settling down with a nice young lady. Martha was over the moon to meet someone Tristan cared about.

"Hello, Ms. Jessica. Tristan has told me so much about you."

"Has he?" Jess tilted her head to look at Tristan. She'd immediately like Ms. Martha. She was a thin woman, but her cheeks were chubby and full of expression.

"Yes, dear. Would you two like to eat lunch now or later?"

Tristan started to reply, but Jessica cut him off. "Ms. Martha, please forgive me. I can't place your accent. Where are you from?"

"Me? I'm from Wales."

Jessica had never left the country. She didn't even have a passport. Traveling required time and resources, which were in rare supply for her family. Regardless, Jessica knew enough to recall that Wales was part of Great Britain.

"Wales? Oh. How'd you end up here?"

"I used to work for a family in England, but their daughter grew up and moved away. After that, a friend told me the O'Sullivans were hiring a nanny. It wasn't easy then, but we managed a couple of telephone interviews. We agreed to a six-week trial period. I fell in love with this place and have been here ever since."

Martha's story was fascinating. Jessica would never have been able to guess she was from Wales. Not that her accent was terrible or anything. Jessica had never heard a Welsh accent, though. Tristan smiled at the two women. He was thankful they appeared to get along. Ms. Martha had gone through a lot to raise a troublemaker like him. She welcomed Declan in with open arms. Tristan felt nostalgic; he missed Declan already.

"Let's have lunch in about a half hour. I want to show Jessica around first."

"Okay, I'll get things set up while you do that," Ms. Martha replied.

Tristan strolled outside via a side door to show the swimming pool, tennis court, and garden. The garden took up as much room as both the other areas combined. There was a pergola with a sitting area surrounded by plants that Jessica couldn't name. A manmade creek ran through the garden to a little pond. Next to it sat a wrought iron bench. In some nooks, Jessica noticed sculptures by artists local to Chicago. The garden was large but felt intimate, romantic even. Jessica loved it immediately.

"I've never brought anyone here before. This was my mother's. Even my dad doesn't have the heart to change it. She worked so hard." Jessica looked around. Most of the flowers hadn't started to bloom, but she could see a few buds dotting the garden.

"What are these?" Jessica pointed to a cluster of flowers that looked like sad daisies.

"Those are snowdrops. They bloom early in the spring here. They're good for attracting insects."

"You want to attract insects?"

"Not all are bad," Tristan shrugged and put his fists in his pocket. He remembered having the same conversation with his mother. "Bees, for example, are important for the environment."

"Oh, right."

Amongst the white and green of the garden, Jess stood out. A pale blue flower that Tristan wanted to see thrive.

"Do you know what they mean," Jessica asked as she leaned over to sniff them.

Momentarily distracted by the back of Jess's thighs, Tristan stuttered, "They, uh, they mean..."

"What?" Jessica stood upright, not having heard Tristan.

"They mean newness, hope, and overcoming challenges. They're good for the start of spring. Hope for a good flowering season. But they're also good as a gift for someone struggling and needing support."

"That's beautiful. Now that I'm looking at them properly, they match their meaning."

"How so?"

"Well, at first, I thought they looked wilted, but now it looks like they're encouraging the soil around them."

Tristan laughed, "I've never thought about it that way."

"What else do you want to show me?"

Tristan took Jessica around the house. He showed her the formal living room and dining room. The kitchen, where Ms. Martha was busying herself with lunch, was set up for a professional chef. Then Tristan took her to the game room, theater room, and home gym. The game room reminded Jessica of Declan's house. She started to ask Tristan about it. Then she realized it wouldn't be good to mention that she'd gone to Declan's house. Once more, Jessica told herself to let him go.

In the homeowner's suite, Jessica was in awe. The room's design matched her room back at the condo. An antique hairbrush, shimmering perfume bottles, and family photos were on the dresser. The bed linens were fresh, and there wasn't a speck of dust. It looked like someone would return to it any moment.

"Is your dad stopping by?"

"Why do you ask?" Tristan looked puzzled.

"It looks like someone will be here any moment."

"Look in the closet."

Jessica walked to the door Tristan pointed out to her. Inside was shocking in more ways than one. First, Jessica admired the layout and organization of the full room. There was a center island with antique nobs that might hold accessories and handbags. Glass cabinets along the walls divided sections for different types of clothing. When Jess opened one of the glass doors, a light popped on overhead. She'd never imagined anything so beautiful. It was as though the O'Sullivans fit a small boutique in their wardrobe instead of a passage to a secret world. The second thing Jessica noticed was that the closet only held women's items. A single section was dedicated to a couple of suits, but that was it.

"My dad doesn't stay here. He has a few suits in case. But he left this place the day my mother died and hasn't returned," Tristan explained from the doorway. He was leaning against the frame, relaxed. Still, Jessica thought he looked sad.

"Never? So you and Declan grew up in the condo, not here?"

"No, it's more complicated than that."

"The short answer is that Declan and I grew up here."

"You didn't live with your dad?"

Tristan shook his head but didn't explain further. Jessica understood a little more about his relationship with Ciaran. It must have been hard to lose your mother. Even harder to have an absent father. Jessica held Tristan's hand.

"You don't have to worry, Jessica. The past is the past. Come on. I want to show you one more thing."

On the way to wherever Tristan was taking her, he pointed out two doors.

"That's Ms. Martha's room, and that's Declan's. I'll respect their privacy and not show you their rooms. But this," Tristan opened a door, "is my room."