The air was heavy with snow that muffled the sound of the pedestrians and vehicles driving outside the window. Everything chilled and calm, except for the interior of the store where staff members were bustling around showing off fabrics and clothing articles to the couple seated on the leather couch before them. Men in black suit lining the perimeter and watching the people with stern features and focused eyes.

"How about this, sir?" One of the staff members brought the man out of his reverie, smiling as he showed off a slate grey pinstriped suit to him. "Cut in Milan and brought in from Paris, hand-tailored for you, sir,"

"Yes, fine, it will do," He waved away dismissively, eyes passing over the rich fabric but smiled at the man nonetheless.

After stepping out of the shop, the couple was settled in a luxurious Rolls Royce and driven to their next destination. Their new home.

A comfortable cottage in the middle of nowhere surrounded by trees and fields and complete peace and quiet. Guards stationed around the perimeter once more, while a few helped them get settled into the already furnished house. Moving in their new clothes and setting up their belongings around the home, before finally leaving the couple to stand in the center of their cozy lounge.

"I like it," Sofia murmured to her husband, looking around her with a smile. "Feels very welcoming,"

"Hmm,"

"What's the matter?" She rubbed her thumb against his jaw, the contact forcing Marco to jump before he blinked down at his wife and tried to give her a smile. "Are you in pain?"

"A little," He found himself nodding and swallowed.

"Let's take a nap. I could use one after the last couple of days," Sofia grinned and led him up to their brand new attic bedroom.

Getting dressed for bed, Sofia promptly fell asleep, ignorant to how her husband lay awake behind her, cast arm covering his midriff with the other over his eyes, thoughts, and words, and memories itching in his mind. Refusing to let him sleep.

Marco managed to stay at home and gather his strength for an entire week, he spent time with his wife and stayed indoors for those seven days, before he saw her off to class with a kiss and goodbye. He watched from their window as she got into the back of the car and drove away, her little vacation having come to an end when she felt strong enough to return to class.

Once her car had disappeared down the driveway, Marco turned around and faced the empty interior of his new home.

Silent, still, and empty of warmth.

Stepping out of the car, Marco looked up at the looming structure of the estate before him. The place looking just like it had when he had visited ten days ago. The exterior glinting with pillars looming overhead. The pristine glass shining and cars shimmering in the sunlight. The luxury only getting slightly marred by the suit-clad men with their loaded weapons in hand, patrolling the grounds.

But the guards, guns, dogs, luxury, and power of the house before him was exactly what made Marco's heart long to be back here.

Running his good hand through his hair, he fixed the coat draped over his shoulders before making his way into the interior, being greeted by bowed heads as he made his way into the East Wing. Heart thundering as he stepped closer to the double doors.

Taking note of the guards on either side of the door, he heaved a breath of relief to know that Salvatore was behind the wooden structure and reached out to push down on the golden handles. Freezing when two arms blocked him from reaching out. His eyes instantly looking up at the two men.

"Boss asked not to be disturbed, sir," The guard to his right relayed the order in perfect Italian.

"Surely that order doesn't apply to me. I'm his protégé,"

"Sir has explicitly stated that no one is allowed in," The one at his left responded. "He does not want to be disturbed, and asked for you to rest,"

"Did you come up with that on the spot, Fio?" Marco raised an eyebrow at the man. "What were Salvatore's exact orders?"

"That you are to be sent back home in reference to your medical condition,"

"It's just a broken arm, I can still work fine without it. I can do errands and strategic planning, and meetings,"

"Boss's orders, sir," The men spoke in sync, face devoid of emotions, but their eyes gave away their pity on the man before them, who gritted his teeth and straightened, glaring at the two.

"Stand down," He ordered.

"We cannot, sir,"

"I said stand down!"

The two men stayed silent at the words still blocking his way. Marco scoffed and reached behind him for his gun, ready to threaten them in his mind, but froze when the structure pulled open a fraction.

"Have this delivered to Piero," Tazio's voice said as he stepped out of the office, the door closing behind him and taking with it the ray of sunlight that had slipped out and warmed the cold hallway for a minute. "And find Russo, he has to drop Nicole and the kids to the Lombardi Manor and stay with them for the duration of their stay," The second in command resumed and handed files to the guards at his right, looking down at a folder in his arm.

"Also-" He began to say and looked up, words freezing at the sight of the man before him. "Marco? Hey, what a pleasant surprise, I thought you were on medical leave?"

"I've ended it," Marco informed. "I'm ready to get back to work now,"

"Work," Tazio echoed.

"Yes, remember the intel I was gathering? And that negotiation contract I was working on? How about all those meetings that had been scheduled for me? I have to make a run of the night clubs, and finalize a deal with the Japanese at Armamentarium, they deal only with me, and you know that, Tazio." Marco listed off all the things he had pending. "So come on, move so I can update Salvatore that I'm back,"

"Marco," Tazio cleared his throat and scratched at his jaw, eyes uncertain. "Weren't you updated?"

"On what?"

"Salvatore is taking care of everything," He murmured under his breath, hands slipped into his slacks pockets and gaze downcast. "Boss is personally overseeing the negotiations, meetings, and the contract with the Japanese. He's put me in charge of the nightclubs for a now, while Piero is gathering the intel,"

"What?" Marco scoffed, shaking his head. "No, Salvatore knows this is my jurisdiction. He knows that is my job, why would the king intermingle with the commoners?"

"Because they are his people?" Tazio scoffed with knitted eyebrows, Marco's teeth clenching to see that now his way to Salvatore was blocked by three men, and one of them was his friend. "How arrogant do you think Salvatore is? What the fuck was that, Marco? Who the hell do you think the man behind this door is?" Tazio ground out and jabbed a finger in the direction of Salvatore's office.

"Tazio," Marco's face flushed and eyes burned as he took a threatening step towards the second-in-command. "I think you're forgetting who I am-"

"-I think it is you who has forgotten who you are-" Tazio silenced him with a chilling glare.

"-What the fuck is going on here?" Salvatore's voice asked in a deep baritone as the wooden doors were pulled open by him, bathing his structure in a blinding light that showed only a shadow where his figure should be standing. "Marco? Tazio? What is the meaning of all this?" He demanded as everyone bowed their heads to the Mafia Boss before them.

"Boss-" Tazio began in a calm voice before he was cut off my Marco.

"-I'd like to return back to work," Marco informed across his brother whose face was still shrouded in darkness, the Mafia Boss's direction shifting to him before he took a step forward and out of the light. "I want to return to work, Salvatore," He repeated.

Taking another step towards him, he brought his hand up and snapped his finger in Marco's left ear, the sound muffled as he instinctually tilted his head away from the sound. Salvatore's sharp features running over his figure and hummed at the cast over his arm.

"No," He stated and spun on his heel, about to head back to his office.

"Why not?!"

"Because you are unable to protect yourself," Salvatore halted and turned back to him. "You cannot load a gun, you cannot hear in one ear – therefore you'd never be sure if an enemy is coming up behind you – and as far as I can recall, you sustained a head injury, right?"

"Salvatore-"

"-With these injuries you are nothing but a liability and I cannot drag your weight behind me right now,"

Marco's words froze at the statement. His brother throwing them in his face so casually as if though he hadn't just upturned a bucket of acid over his head. Straightening, he inhaled deeply and ran his tongue over his teeth before eying Salvatore's figure before him. Hair styled perfectly, clothes immaculate and designed to fit like a glove to his physique, authority radiating off his being, but Marco could look behind all that and see the sleepless night in the bags under his eyes and the improper care he was taking of himself by how pale his skin seemed.

"Trouble in paradise, eh, Salvi?" Marco found himself taunting, the Mafia Boss raising an eyebrow at the words. "I hear Nicole is taking the kids to her father's. Getting away from you?"

"Interesting theory," Salvatore gave him a sardonic smirk, and Marco's insides squirmed, instantly knowing that he was wrong. "She is going for a day trip because you know, the man is her father, after all. Boy, I wonder, are you projecting your marital issues onto my marriage?"

"I don't have any marital issues,"

"Are you sure?" The Mafia Boss resumed cordially. "Last I recall, Regnante men never did too well with confinement," Salvatore made a vague gesture to Marco's person before walking across the threshold and disappeared behind his office doors, leaving his youngest brother to stand stunned in the hallway, his message delivered loud and clear.

Later that afternoon, Sofia returned home from her classes and found her husband sitting at the round dining table by the French windows and staring out at the field that was now their backyard.

"Hey," She smiled and placed a kiss on his cheek, finding an untouched glass of water before him and took in his professional attire. "You're dressed to impress," She hummed and slipped her palms under his shirt, kissing the side of his neck.

"I'm going to take matters into my own hands," Marco stated with his gaze out the window, unperturbed by his wife's advances.

"What matters?" Sofia smacked and lips and pulled away, only to come and sit beside him.

"Salvatore knows where Nikolai is and I don't know what he is planning, but I'll handle things before he has a chance to put his plan into motion,"

"And what? Kill a Mafia Boss on Salvatore's turf and throw the Regnante Mafia into a bloodbath?" Sofia demanded. "Have you even thought about this, Marco?"

"I have,"

"Then run it by me,"

"I'll find Nikolai and tell him to back off and leave Italy,"

"Oh, please, you and I both know he isn't going to do that until he has what he came here for: you,"

"No, he came here for Salvatore's demise, I'm just an excuse,"

"The man doesn't have the power,"

"He's here gathering allies from the Italians, trying to overthrow Salvatore by telling them he is harboring a Russian!"

"Marco, do you hear yourself?!" Sofia demanded and jumped from her place. "Do you really think the Italian's are stupid enough to side with a man who has no power or jurisdiction over a man who controls the entire northern hemisphere? Are you in your right mind?"

Marco simply ground his teeth and stared out the window, ignoring his wife beside him, knowing she did not understand nor see it the way he did.

"This is Salvatore fucking Regnante they want to go up against, the Regnante Mafia Boss. Strongest and most feared boss to exist and you think some disgraced Russian can just prance up in here and dethrone him with some slander? Do you even hear how ridiculous it sounds?"

"I'm that disgraced Russian's son," Marco spoke hardly above a whisper, Sofia freezing at the words before her face burned at the implications.

"Yeah? Well, I married Marco Regnante, not some idiot on a suicide mission," She growled and grabbed her coat and bag before making her way up to their bedroom, the door slamming shut behind her.

Later that night, Marco managed to sneak out of his home without the guards taking note of his departure, and then slipped into the estate from behind the guard's backs. Hiding in a shrouded alcove in the East Wing where he had a perfect view of Salvatore's office door. The Mafia Boss being a creature of habit was expected to leave any minute now.

It took forty-five minutes of waiting before Salvatore stepped out, with his coat jacket in hand, and the weight of the day heavy on his shoulders. Dismissing his guards, he walked out of the wing with the men in tow.

Waiting another minute, Marco slipped out of his hiding spot before slipping into the darkness of Salvatore's office.

Turning on the flash of his phone, he walked into the immaculate interior, the table cleared of all files and was organized into three treys. Putting his phone down, Marco rummage through the first pile in search of anything about Nikolai.

"Bad day?" Nicole murmured kneeling behind her husband's hunched figure, fingers gliding up and down his spine as she placed a kiss on his nape.

"Bad year," Her husband scoffed and straightened, looking over his shoulder at his giggling wife. "A very long day," He sighed and cupped her chin into his fingers, tracing his thumb over her bottom lip, watching them part.

"But the day is over now," Nicole breathed out and leaned forward a fraction, inviting her husband to move towards her, smiling when he pressed their lips together in a soft and chaste kiss. Maneuvering herself to be straddling his lap and wound her arms around his neck to kiss him properly. "And the night is still young,"

Salvatore chuckled against her mouth at the words going to deepen the kiss but pulled away instead with knitted eyebrows.

"What?" Nicole whispered.

"Give me a second," He muttered and helped her off his lap before making his way to his walk-in closet, rummaging through the pockets of his slacks and suit jacket before going through the pockets of his trousers.

"What happened?"

"I must have forgotten my phone in the office," He looked around him, sighing and rubbing a hand over his forehead.

"Forget about it, baby, it will still be there in the morning," Nicole wrapped her arm around his waist and smiled up at him.

"Yeah, no, I know that," Salvatore placed a kiss on her forehead and pulled away, slipping on his robe at the foot of the bed and loosely tying the front over his waist. "But I get updates on Nikolai on that phone,"

"Ah," Nicole realized. "Less than five minutes then,"

"Yes," Salvatore kissed her once before heading towards his bedroom door.

"What the fuck," Marco hissed, having combed through the files and found nothing out of the ordinary in it, neither anything pertaining to Nikolai. Picking up his phone, he flashed it around the room, trying to find something before a glint on the coffee table caught his eye.

Walking towards it, he picked up the sleek black device and unlocked it, typing in Nikolai's name and let out a sound of triumph when a series of documents popped up at the search.

Bounding on the stairs, Salvatore headed towards the East Wing, the hallway dimly lit by the lamps before the Mafia Boss came to a halt at the wooden structure of his office, hand on the golden handle before a sound forced him to look up.

"Tazio?" He called out to the man at the end of the hall, his second-in-command looking up from the file in hand. "What are you still doing here? Go home,"

Marco's breath hitched to hear Salvatore's voice outside the door, heart freezing in his chest and insides squirming to know how bad it would look. Then to make matters worse, he didn't know where Nikolai was staying in Italy. Fingers scrolling at the screen and eyes searching frantically with the voice of his brother and his second-in-command ringing outside in the hallway.

"Come on, come on," He hissed to himself, eyes flying over the words. "Location, location, location,"

"Go home, Tazio," Salvatore's voice was outside the door just as Marco found the address, quickly typing it up on his phone before clearing every indicator of his search, the door creaking open behind him with a ray of light streaming into the darkened interior, the youngest's heart jumping in his throat.

"Finish up tomorrow," The Mafia Boss stated over his shoulder and walked into the room, turning on the chandelier overhead and bathed his office in a warm glow as his eyes roamed over the interior in search for the device he had come for. "Ah, here it is," He caught sight of the phone on the coffee table, picking it up and turning it on to check for any new updates before slipping it into his robe's pocket.

Eyes fleeting over the table before his eyebrows knitted to see two files out of their treys.

"Strange," Salvatore muttered to himself and walked over to the other side of his table.

Marco covered his mouth to keep his erratic breathing from being heard when Salvatore's bare feet and the hem of his black trousers came into view before him. The Mafia Boss just needing to bend down to see him hiding beneath his desk with no explanation to his presence.

He heard Salvatore flipping through the pages of the files before placing them in their designated trey. The sight of his feet retreating having Marco let out a relieved breath.

Salvatore froze in the middle of the room, eyes taking in the interior, something itching at the back of his head before he returned back to the desk. Marco stilling beneath the structure. Leaning over the desk, he grabbed a pen and made a quick inscription on the notes laying atop his desk.

"Salvatore," Nicole's voice had her husband jump and drop the pen, Marco tensing at the sight of the stationary beside Salvatore's feet.

"Shit," He exhaled breathlessly and placed a hand on his chest at her voice. "Baby, you scared me," He shook his head with a scoff.

"You promised me less than five minutes," She pouted and made her way into the office, arms crossed over her chest and stood beside her husband, Marco internally cursing to see her, fearing that he would be stuck here much longer than anticipated. Holding his breath when he saw Nicole's footstep on the pen and retreat a fraction, having no doubt she was looking down at the accused stationary. "You dropped this," She reached down, her hair curtaining the view from the side as Marco crouched frozen beneath the desk, breath held and eyes wide, afraid of her seeing him.

"Thank you," Salvatore spoke above him.

Taking the pen from her, he gave her a chaste kiss and returned the stationary to its holder, interlinking their fingers together and led her out of the office, turning off the lights and closing the door with a click.

"Holy," Marco exhaled once he was sure that they were gone, sagging in his hiding place before crawling out into the darkness. Turning on his phone he looked at the address displayed and made up his mind right then and there.

"Stop here," He told the taxi driver, paying his fare outside the hotel before stepping into the chilly weather, pulling the coat closer to him and stepping into the night time hotel, a receptionist stopping him at the desk.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes, I have an appointment with one of your residents here, Nikolai Romanov,"

"Is he aware of it, sir?"

"Yes, he is," Marco nodded and watched her pick up the phone, holding it to her ear and talking in a hushed voice to the person on the other line.

"May I ask who you are, sir?"

"I'm his son," Marco straightened. "Aleksander Romanov,"