Chapter 3 paranoid to borderline delusional

'Singhanias are entering into the security services field. Does their success ever have a full stop?' Tristan heard the headline Riccardo had been blasting all week – a headline he tried to ignore with zero success.

"Come on buddy, you have to get over it" Riccardo patted Tristan's shoulder, who was glaring at a few pictures that were hung on the wall while drinking Midnight Manhattan like his life depended on it.

"Get over what? Moretti's destroyed my family" Tristan snapped, his eyes turning cold as he clenched his hand tighter around the glass, his eyes shifting to Riccardo, his right hand man and best friend.

"And they're dead," Riccardo sighed, throwing his head back in frustration.

"I don't believe it. He can't be dead. If he has death, it has to be from my hands, where he begs for mercy but never gets it" Tristan growled, smashing the glass against the wall, every single fibre in his body craving for revenge as he looked at the smiling man who was hugging his dad, like they were best friends forever.

They're dead forever now.

"You're losing it" Riccardo deadpanned, watching Tristan's drink drip down like a fountain from the wall that had been painted back for Tristan to throw his drinks and glasses on whenever he gets angry.

"Oh yeah? Do you think so? Go cry about it to my mother" Tristan's voice was dripping with sarcasm as he saw the picture of his mother right beside the picture of his dad, a wall completely covered with their pictures.

"She's dead" Riccardo groaned, knowing this conversation gets him nowhere, as always.

"Oh yeah, she is. Isn't that the reason I am angry?" Tristan asked in a fake peppy voice like he was excited that he cracked this code.

"You're wasted" Riccardo stated, dumping himself on the bean bag, pausing in between his words.

"And no, that's not the reason you're angry. You are angry that Chiara, her mom and even her father are dead, just not in your hands" Riccardo mimicked Tristan's tone and saw annoyance flare in Tristan's eyes.

That satisfied Riccardo as he flashed a cheeky grin.

"I hate you" Tristan grumbled, dropping himself beside Riccardo on another bean bag.

"I am not trying to get in your pants, so you have nothing to worry about" Riccardo replied with a tight lipped smile.

Tristan just glared at him instead of laughing, which he never does.

"Aren't you tired of it?" Riccardo asked curiously, turning his head to Tristan.

"Tired of what?" Tristan wiped his wet hand on his own suit aggressively, conveniently ignoring the fact that it's Armani.

"Tired of searching for the people that are no longer alive? Only paranormal worlds are left to be searched" Riccardo rolled his eyes, a scoff escaping his lips.

"I would if I could. But I can't, so I shan't" Tristan fished out his mobile from his pocket when he felt it vibrate against his leg, very well aware that he can't avoid the external world that waits for him to take charge.

"Even the maids are annoyed at how many glasses you break and how much clean up they have to do," Riccardo teased, trying to get Tristan back before his mind goes dark where he ends up doing something that he is going to regret for the rest of his life.

"Their annoyance won't pay their bills, will they? I do. They have no choice" Tristan affirmed coldly before tossing his mobile on to the bean bag.

"Are you going to stop looking for them now?" Riccardo asked, changing the topic.

"What?" Tristan asked incredulously, narrowing his eyes at Riccardo for even raising such a question.

"You saw the dead bodies with your own fucking eyes, Tristan. You're going out of hand" Riccardo threw his hands in the air, giving up on even trying.

"I am not going out of hand" Tristan clenched his jaw at the judgemental tone.

"Yeah you're not going out of hand, you're just turning from paranoid to the point of being delusional where you're spending millions of Euros to search for the people who're dead" Riccardo raised his eyebrows, waiting for Tristan to process whatever he just said.

Tristan stared at him blankly, saying nothing. Riccardo waited for a reaction, throwing another glass or a punch at him, but nothing came.

Riccardo cautiously took a step back, fearing what Tristan's silence might do.

"Well, everything sounds stupid when you use that tone" Tristan stated as a matter of fact, shifting his stance after seeing a momentary flash of fear in Riccardo's eyes.

Riccardo relaxed at the slightest hearing his reply, a begrudging smile forming on both of their faces.

"People can't rise from the dead, Tristan. You need to accept that. Stop fighting the invisible enemy, we have a lot of visible ones" Riccardo tried in a gentle tone this time, trying to lighten up the situation.

"Unfortunately for me, my demons are invisible, but the war is real. So it looks like I even have to fight the invisible. But don't stop searching for them. Chiara can't be recognised, but her dad can be. He can't just drop dead, that's my thing to do to him. Search all Europe, but find them" Tristan ordered, his eyes darkening at the thought of finding the people who killed his parents and punish them rightfully.

"I just gave you a whole lecture on letting it go" Riccardo sighed defeatedly, rubbing his forehead.

"And I choose not to hear it. Start from scratch again, trace his distant family, anyone you can get your hands on. Where his money went, family went, how they disappeared if they existed, so on.." Tristan ordered, reminding himself of why he started this journey. To find the mastermind behind these murders.

"By the way, who are these singhania's again? Why are they popping up on all the news channels?" Tristan frowned, remembering the message he got a few minutes ago from his assistant.

"Singhanias? Yeah they're famous in Asia. Like one of the richest billionaires there and they started their companies here in Europe like a decade and half ago and they're blooming faster than flowers. They have like fifteen sectors. They're rich enough that even their dogs could cough out euros" Riccardo joked at the end.

"I'd like to meet the man who created this, arrange a meeting for me" Tristan said, his brows furrowing on the information Riccardo was spitting.

Something doesn't add up.