a/n: shocked and slightly pleased that Vincenzo was welcomed into the family with open arms (you either wanted to 'bone' him, or you wanted him to adopt you. We had very different reactions).

tbh idek who the men are in these gifs, they're just hot asf. if you can find their names, addresses, phone numbers, social's, and average salary per year, that'd be great. thanks babes.

P.S. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE 8K FOLLOWERS!! I've always had my goal on 10K and I'll probably pass out if that ever happens.

THIS THANK YOU GOES OUT TO EVERYONE THAT HAS TAKEN THE TIME TO VOTE "LUCIANO" FOR THE FICTION AWARDS THIS YEAR! I APPRECIATE IT SO MUCH! IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO VOTE FOR ANY OF YOUR FAVORITE STORIES, VISIT MY WALL AND CLICK THE LINK I PROVIDED.

- - -

"Sometimes you have to sacrifice your queen in order to win the game." - Lucious Lyon

- - - -

"Go, but I can't promise I'll come back for you."

His words stung. They stung more than he would ever realize. They brought a sickening feeling over my stomach and they caused my eyes to glaze over with unfallen tears. But he wouldn't see me cry and it's possible he would never see the effect that those ten words had on me in that moment in time. But as clogged up as my throat felt, I would be damned if I let him have the last word of this argument.

I stormed out the room after him, taking the corner sharply. He hadn't gotten far; just a few steps out the doorway and to his left, heading towards his suite. I didn't have to call his name for him to know I was right behind him. He stopped his long strides, knowing good and well I had followed him out the door. Liam whirls around and opens his mouth, ready to tell me exactly what I knew he wanted to say.

Faith, he was going to say, I don't want to keep talking about this.

I cleared the distance between us in seconds, but Liam didn't actually looked shocked until my arms extended themselves, pressed against his firm chest, and shoved him backwards. He stumbled, not because of force, but because of surprise. Luciano staggered backwards about three steps and on the third, he caught his balance and planted his opposite foot.

His eyes widened, but the most he did was interlock his fingers together and rest his hands on his head, as if that were going to keep him from doing something he would regret later. He laughed, his crisp, white teeth shining through a deep chuckle that wasn't filled with hilarity. The laugh didn't lighten the dark, angry look in his eyes. And if it were possible, it appeared to make him angrier. His biceps bulged as he squeezed his hands together and bowed his head, shaking it all the while.

"I'm doing this for you!" My fists clenched as the tears pierced the corner of my eyes. My throat felt like it was beginning to close up; breathing suddenly became a working effort. I had to tell myself repeatedly to make sure I breathed through my nose.

For being afraid of an angry Luciano, I didn't show it. I closed the gap that had been caused when he stumbled and pointed an accusing finger at his chest. "Does it look like I want to risk my life? Do I look like I want to die?" My questions were rhetorical. "No! But I'm doing this for you because no matter how you look at it, this is the only way!" I paused, hoping Liam had something to say, but he didn't. I lowered my voice to a gentle whisper. Yet, no matter how much I tried, I couldn't keep the tear from rolling my face. "Why can't you see that?" My head shook, "What is blinding you that you can't see that."

I watched him for any answer I could discern. His interlocked hands fell to the base of his neck, his muscles flexing just for a second at the switching of positions. Liam's facial expressions however, stayed the same; pursed lips and eyebrows that looked like they were about to have a head-on collision with his nose. He didn't have to say anything verbally to know that he indeed had an answer. Although his lips refused to speak, his eyes didn't. The only problem being, I couldn't read minds. The answer that I was looking for floated between his brown irises, inaccessible to everyone but him.

Liam didn't respond. Instead, his arms dropped to his side and he turned away from me; ending the conversation without a word. With his back to me, I watched him slowly walk down the remainder of the hallway. I stood still, my hands clenched in a fist just as his own pressed against his bedroom door, preparing to open it. But for the last time that night, I called out to him.

"You're a liar," That got his immediate attention. His gaze drifted up from the floor and landed on me. The heat that flushed to my face intensified as his glare only got worse. If he stared at me a few seconds longer, I would've done a complete representation of a snowman in the summer heat. I swallowed hard and finished, "You're a fucking coward and a liar. Why?" I let out a sick laugh of my own, "Because you promised. You promised you would come back."

For just a second, I wished everything wasn't playing out the way it was. I wished we were laughing, watching television, and attempting to play Mario Kart with Rosalie. I wished with everything that I had that I could watch Dominic rotate the wedding ring around his hand and smile, inwardly laughing at a Rico joke. For just a moment, I wished I could see the glint in Federico's eyes that was - as of tonight - no longer there. I would've rathered Liam's lips on mine in a caring way then spewing out words that he said out of anger. My dreams, however, were nowhere close to reality.

"-guest bedroom tonight, Ms. Crawford."

I was torn out of my blissful thoughts at the sound of a door slamming; fading Liam's parting words with it. I caught the ending of his dismissal and that only caused me to get angrier. I let out a huff and in response to his words, I knocked on his bedroom door a tad harder than needed. He opened on the fourth knock, still looking as irritated as I did. Liam must've stripped himself of his shirt quickly, because he was shirtless as he stood before me. My eyes did a quick sweep and I had to remind myself multiple times that I was still very, very angry at him.

"Guest bedroom?" I repeat as I brush by him, our eyes only locking for a split second. I knew he had angled his body towards me, watching as I stalked towards the bed and yanked my pillow off of it. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, its charger, and eventually, my pajamas. Then I whirled around, only to find Liam still staring at me where I left him; a hand on the door, eyeing me. "I think that's a good idea," sarcasm floated into my tone as I finally stood beside him, tilting my head up towards him.

"Sleeping in separate rooms I mean," I let out a laugh, "I might say something rude to you, like...oh, I don't know, that you're pathetic." The word came out with more force then I intended and I swore I saw Liam flinch. My eyes fell from his contorted facial expression, landing on the necklace that caught my attention. I remembered it now as it glistened, almost teasing me.

"Lealtà," I read the necklace out loud, then I laughed. "Loyal my ass." And just like his glass shattering punch to the glass just a few minutes before, I made this move without truly thinking about it. My fingers wrapped around the necklace, my knuckles brushing against his smooth skin as I yanked it clean off his neck. It tore from his neck easily and was skidding across the room before I had even turned my back on him.

I wasn't sure what scared me the most. The fact that Liam's gaze didn't follow the broken necklace that had finally come to a stop somewhere in his room, or the fact that Luciano didn't look away from me, in fact, he hardly blinked. The door slammed from behind me, just barely nipping my shirt on the way out.

I had to assume that the slamming of the door is what jarred the tears loose for me. They started falling out the corner of my eyes at a rate I couldn't control. My breathing became labored and rushed at the feeling that I couldn't get a breath in. The hallway grew hot and I felt a bead of sweat stick to my forehead as my hands flew to my face, attempting to wipe and forcing to stop the tears that kept coming. As much as my subconscious wanted Liam to come out his room and hug me, kiss me, and apologize, another part of me didn't want that. I was angry at him, hurt by the words he had said, and in no shape to hear an apology from him just yet.

What I did finally agree with my subconscious on, however, was the idea of fresh air. After putting my belongings in another room, I bounded down the steps in record time and cleared the entire, silent floor in a matter of seconds. Each room I glanced in was dark, uninhabited. It was a weird, unwelcomed change. I had grown accustom to the boisterous laughter, the side glances as I walked by, and the constant, male chatter. The house seemed even larger this way, especially with shadows lurking around every corner.

The front door was already ajar once I reached it and flung it open, slipping outside and closing it back before anyone could even notice. The air was crisp, cool, and a gentle breeze blew through the air. The cool wind hit the tears that stained my cheeks, causing a calming feeling to ripple over my entire body. I step off the porch, my bare feet hitting the elegant brick driveway. A part of me expected to see Federico lying on the hood of a car, a cigarette resting between his lips. I couldn't say I was too disappointed to know that I was alone. My head tilts up as my eyelids close and just like the cool wind that blew over me, so did a moment of peacefulness.

But like a wave in the ocean, it eventually crashed and ended.

"Are you crying?"

A tear slipped past my closed eyelid and rolled down my cheek. I readjusted my stance and glanced to my left, slowly growing uneasy. I wasn't sure where Michael Luciano had come from and if I had to be honest, I didn't care. He was a tall man and his physique was similar to Liam's; the only disadvantage Michael suffered from was age. In his prime, I had to admit he was probably handsome; but in the end, he was rude, cruel, and evil. Michael clutched a glass of wine in his hands, before slowly bring it to his lips and taking a sip.

My finger presses against a corner of my eye as I shake my head, replying sarcastically, "No, my eyes are just sweating."

Michael doesn't seem taken back. His lips curl in a smile around the glass as he takes a swig. Once he pulls it down, he gives me a slight smile. "God, I hate when that happens."

Silence in a verbal sense fall over us, but the crickets keep the noise alive and well. The moon was bright tonight, the stars as well. It casted a beautiful, natural light around the driveway and the front of Luciano's home. The flower beds that rested against the house lit up and a few cars that had been lazily parked out front, shimmered under the light.

Michael shifts from beside me and turns his back, walking back towards the house. I watched him go, automatically assuming that our conversation was done; but when he pulled a 360 and dropped to the steps that led to his sons house, I knew the opposite had happened. With long legs, he extends them out in front of him and crosses one ankle over another, leaning back. With one hand supporting most of his body weight, he keeps the glass of wine close, occasionally lifting it to his lips for a quick sip. I was impressed. Without using words, he had started the conversation, not ended it. I nodded, an inward smile trying to force its way out. Michael Luciano knew how to get what he wanted.

"Stupidity," My voice carried with the wind as I turned my body slightly, now able to look at Mr. Luciano out the corner of my eye. He lifts his gaze carelessly, meeting mine. "I feel like this gene runs in your family." The smile that crossed his lips was almost welcoming. I sniffled, wiped at the final few tears that rolled near my chin, and made my way towards him. I dropped down to the concrete steps and faced the driveway.

Michael's loud, obnoxious sip of wine keeps the unwanted silence away.

I pull my legs up a step as I wrap my arms around my knees and huddle myself in a ball. For just a moment, I speak. I wasn't exactly addressing Michael, but he was there and he was listening. I tilt my head upwards and eye the starry night skin and the full moon that's nestled in the corner of my vision. One star is brighter than the other, giving off more of a blueish glow. "All of this shit, it all started with me and it deserves to end with me." I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, mumbling out the next few words, "Rosalie, the poor thing doesn't deserve this. Dominic, he doesn't deserve this. Federico-" I let out a breath and fall silent.

"I'm doing this for him, for the people he loves. He argues with me like we have another option," I shake my head and let out a laugh, "Why can't he see that?" I groan and fall backwards gently, my back finally hitting the surface behind me. It was an odd, unnatural positon as I threw an arm across my forehead and groaned loud enough for the neighbors a zillion miles away to hear.

My arm falls from my forehead as Michael shuffles from beside me. He pulls his aging body together and stands up, now hovering over me like a giant. Mr. Luciano leans his six foot frame over me, blocking the moon and the shining stars. "He's blinded."

"By what?!"

There was another loud, obnoxious slurp. This time, his pinkie extends itself in a fancy manner as he downs the rest of the drink, his head tilted as far back as it could go. You could tell he was swirling the wine around his mouth before swallowing and focusing back in on me. Another smile; this time, it was teasing, as if he knew something I didn't. "I'm not going to be the spoiler for that, Ms. Crawford. Do whatever your heart tells you." Michael's gaze is torn from me as he looks up and to his left, eyeing the still, motionless driveway. "Liam, however, is nothing without you."

My mouth falls open, but I fail to respond. Michael nods downwards in his form of a goodbye or a dismissal. "That bullshit," I finally call after him. His hand was already latched around the door, preparing to push it in and leave me utterly alone. Michael freezes at the sound of my voice. "Liam was fine before me. He sat atop his throne and he ran his kingdom flawlessly, I'm sure." I let a moment pass. "And Faith, you can just call me Faith."

I turn my back to Michael and drop my chin to my knees, my eyes beginning to gloss over again at the thought of Liam and I's fight. I heard the footsteps near me, but I didn't have the odd feeling I used to whenever Michael approached. I didn't need to turn around to know that he had come closer.

"You're right," He starts, "Liam ran his kingdom with precision, no distractions, nothing. But he lacked the backbone he needed."

I didn't say anything.

"A king is only as strong as the queen that stands behind him."

A tear fell from my eye as I whipped around, a hand now pressed firm against the concrete. Michael had backtracked and had the front door open, his foot already halfway inside. "You say things like that...they..." His words were still trying to be processed, but this wasn't the first time Michael had said something deep about women, about queens, about their effect on their king, the man. "Where's your queen?"

I could see his shoulders fall and hear his unfazed demeanor drop and smack against the concrete below us. Michael's hand slid off the metal door knob as if his hands had grown too sweaty to continue to grip the device. He turns his head to his left, not allowing me to see and analyze his entire expression. "I didn't kill her, like Liam thinks or often likes to think," He says, "But I did have to get rid of her."

"You took his mother away from him," I lower my voice and look upwards, as if Liam is sticking his head out the window and listening. My whisper slowly grows harsh, "You have to be a sick-"

Michael's features grew similar to Liam's when he was angry. The muscle in his jaw ticked and his eyebrows creased together, his eyes also darkening. But the look of anger fades as quickly as the next gust of wind; his shoulders un-hunch and the tight grip his hand had on the doorknob slowly eased. Michael releases a breath of air.

"Sometimes you have to sacrifice something you love, for the good of others," Michael looks away from me and turns back towards the door, mumbling, "That's all I'm going to say about that," before slipping through the door and closing it behind him.

I was alone. It was peaceful, but it caused my thoughts to whir and my mind to start back up again. I didn't stay out there for much longer than ten minutes after Michael left. I could feel myself growing angry again just at the careless words Liam let slip tonight and by the time I stepped back inside, standing alone in the large foyer of his home, my heart was beating rapidly and I was sniffling again.

With the door now locked, I took about two steps in the direction of the marble staircase that led to the second floor when I heard it. It was soft, gentle, and it floated through the air as delicate as a butterfly on a summer day. I had to stop walking and focus to hone in on the sound; then I realized what it was.

It was the piano. I had always wanted to learn the piano. My mother had even bought a piano and sent me to go take lessons. I went to about four lessons, then gave up out of frustration. I didn't think how it was fair that the boy who practiced before me, could play ten times better than me. Being young, I threw my hands up and walked away, never looking back. And that was why I couldn't play piano to this day. I should've been more patient, knowing that some things come easier to others.

Like metal to a magnet, I drawn to the source of the sound. I walked down hallways I had never seen and past doors I didn't even knew existed. A dim glow peered out one of the many doors that lined this one hallway, signaling I had found my destination. My head peaked through the crack in the door first, then my body followed. With my back against the wall, I slid inside the room and folded my arms across my chest in silence.

The room was absolutely gorgeous. The ceiling was high, the walls painted a pretty light peach color. Bowls of fruit and an occasional picture of a sunset lined the walls in a frame. An old looking grandfather clocked counted time as it sat positioned in a corner, having looked as though it hasn't been touched in years. Two French doors were pushed off to the left, cream colored drapes resting harmlessly in front of them. But the main piece of furniture was the cream colored piano that rested dead center in the middle of the room.

The gorgeous piano that shimmered beneath a lone lamp that stood just a few feet to its right, however, wasn't what caught my attention. It was the man that sat on the piano bench, his foot resting on the pedal and his large hands running up and down the black and white keys. The notes that mixed together and created a beautiful harmony were played gently and with care and that was what attracted me. I always thought it was amazing how men could be so rough with one thing, then so gentle with another.

It took only but a second to identify the person playing the piano as if they had practiced it for years. Federico's bare back shone brightly beneath the dim light, the hour old wounds still looking fresh. The bleeding had finally come to a stop, but the marks were still visible and prominent. His back was hunched over as he leaned over the keyboard, rocking gently. The song ended on a high note, my favorite. It left you feeling hopeful.

I was preparing myself to slip out, suddenly feeling as though I had invaded Rico's privacy. The next note never came, the next song was never played. It was silent for all of sixty seconds, but in those sixty seconds, I knew he knew. Federico had retracted his hands from the piano and rested them on his thighs. The muscles in his arms were flexed and his back grew rigid. He knew I was there.

Instead of hiding and playing stupid, I stepped out into the light of the room and slowly made my way over to him. A light teasing tone coated my words as I eased beside him, watching as he scooted just an inch to his left to allow me to sit down. "Federico De Santis is full of surprises, huh?" He didn't respond, "He loves Frozen, Beauty and the Beast... He plays piano. What else is there?" I add and tilt my head up and to the left. His gaze didn't meet mine, instead, it stayed focused upward and outward, staring at the wall as if it were about to open up and tell us a story.

I didn't take his silence as anything offensive. My eyes drifted over the right side of his face, down his neck, and past his shoulders. What the world needed was a moment of silence for this man; his profile was a work of art. With just a hint of hair now growing around his chin and connecting to short hairs over the top of his lip, the sharpness of his jaw was now more prominent than ever. His cheekbones were high and if he wasn't a man, I would've asked how the hell he did his highlight because beneath the orange glow, it looked perfect. His eyelashes were long enough for me to grow jealous over them. I stared at him obnoxiously long, but I felt like an adult staring at a younger kid and nodding, knowing damn well the boy would grow up to be a heartbreaker.

Federico De Santis was definitely going to be - if he wasn't already - a heartbreaker.

It wasn't Federico's shoulders, it wasn't his arms, and it certainly wasn't his jawline that I noticed when he finally turned and looked down at me. It was his eyes. Although it felt like I had known Rico for a majority of my life, in reality, it had only been about a month; yet, never I had ever seen a look quite like the one his eyes held tonight. His hazel eyes were dim, darkened by whatever emotion he was holding in and refusing to let go of. I had seen the look of anger and sadness penetrate Federico's eyes before, but what I saw tonight was nothing close to it. The glint, the slight sparkle that drew my attention to Rico's eyes ever since I met him, was gone. And if Federico wasn't sitting before me, breathing, I would've assumed he was dead.

Because there was nothing.

"Sprinkles," Even I, who sat inches away from the man, could barely hear him. His normally confident and collected deep voice shook and before I could even formulate a response, Federico leaned his head down and pressed out foreheads together. His eyes fluttered closed as his lips spewed out more words, "Rainbow sprinkles. I like rainbow sprinkles." My eyes stayed focused on his lips as they tried to curl into a smile; he epically failed.

"Don't do that," My words were harsh enough to cause Rico to open his eyes. I was shaking my head, our foreheads still rubbing together. My hands found their way to either side of his face, keeping him from pulling away. His short facial hair brushed against the tips of my fingers as I ran my hands from his chin upwards, my thumbs eventually finding the corner of each of his eyes. I shook my head, knowing just what he was trying to do. Even if his smile had succeeded in pulling through, it wouldn't have been genuine. It wouldn't have been the same boyish Rico smile I had grown to love. "Don't Rico, you don't have to pretend with me; not anymore."

My hands dropped back to his chin as I pulled back just a bit, my eyebrows furrowing at his facial expression. His eyes were squeezed shut, his eyebrows touching, and his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth. I didn't dare let go because I felt like if I did, he would fall apart right in front of me.

Neatly, I swung my left leg over the stool and straddled it just as Federico leaned back and did the same. The look on his face was enough to pull at my heart and it was enough to melt even the coldest heart. With his eyes closed once again, he leans his face to the right, pressing his warm cheek into the palm of my hand. Maybe he didn't like the stability I held his face with, who knows, but his large hand covers mine and holds it against his cheek.

He wanted this; that explained why he kept leaning over and resting his forehead against mine. I didn't take it as any type of act or any indicator that he felt any special way about me. I quickly came to the conclusion that in his twenty-two years of life, he had only be hugged a handful of times and tonight, he was trying to make up for the lack of hugs and shoulders he could cry on previously.

"Remember when you explained to me why you often make jokes in serious situations?" I kept my voice at a steady whisper, watching the back of Rico's eyelids silently. His nod was almost missed; it was short and subtle. My thumb slowly draws an invisible line down Federico's chin and bristled the hairs that had begun to grow after his most recent shave. "You said that when people are laughing with you, they don't have time to see the pain you're in." His nod was clearer this time. "You don't have to try and make me laugh like that anymore Federico. Your façade doesn't fool me, not now."

He let out a breath of air through his nose and to me, it sounded more like relief then anything. I let my hands drop to the piano stool, my palms pressed against the wood that separated us. My breathing, my heart, it all stopped when Federico leaned against me harder and titled his head, brushing our noses together in the process.

"But I do," the familiar teasing tone that we had all come to love floated between my ears, forcing my eyes that had fluttered closed, back open. There was no humorous gleam in Rico's eyes, but by his tone, I knew we were making progress. "I do like rainbow sprinkles."

"You do?"

"Yeah," He let out a soft laugh, which quickly faded along with my smile. No matter how much he tried to lighten the mood, the thick air would rush back in within a matter of seconds. There was no use and both Rico and I knew until it was addressed, it would still hang over his head like a dark, rainy, depressing cloud. His eyes searched mine for just a second before his shoulders drooped and his eyes closed.

I scooted closer to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling our chests closer in a hug. It was an odd position for a hug that was for sure, but it was a hug never-the-less. The hair on the base of his neck stood up as my fingers entwined themselves in the short, black strands. He bowed his head, dipping it in the crook of my neck. It made it easier to whisper in his ear.

"What the hell did they do to you?"

When he pulled away and I saw his bottom lip tremble, my question answered itself.

"They broke you."

Rico let out a puff of air through his mouth as he scooted away from me, forcing my hands to drop and let go of him. He uses his arms to push himself off the bench and away from me, distancing us greatly. He took only a few steps backwards, but they were significant. The lamp only lit up the area of the room close to it so when Federico stepped back, shadows were casted across his face and a majority of his body was submerged in the dark portion of the room. A few rays of moonlight hit his bare chest, but like he probably wanted, his face was hidden from view.

He leaned forward for a split second, rocking back and forth on the heel and balls of his feet. For just a moment, his nose and lips were caught in a ray of moonlight, allowing me to see him pull his lips into his mouth. His lips reappear, now glistening.

"You can't break something that is already broken, Faith."

"Then explain it to me," I throw my leg off the stool and stand up, gaining my balance. I hesitated in taking a step closer to Rico, so instead, I stood still and folded my arms across my chest, my eyes straining to focus on a man I could hardly see. "If Peter Corinelli didn't break you, who did?"

His answer was simple. "She did."

I took a step in his direction. I noticed he leaned back a bit more.

"How?" I took another step and quickly analyzed that he didn't negate it by taking a step back. He grew still, hardly moving. The most movement he did was drop his head, eyeing his feet. He was talking about Carmen, his childhood best friend.

By the time I reached Federico, his shoulders were shaking and his head was still bowed. He wouldn't lift it, no matter how much I tried to pry his chin upwards to look at me. It was all pent up emotion that Federico had never been allowed to show; that, or he simply didn't want to. Then again, there's a difference between crying with someone you know and your pillow. A tear fell from the bridge of his nose as his shoulders ceased their shaking for a moment.

When he picked his head up, he didn't wipe the tears that fell from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. He didn't step back and try and hide his face. He didn't look ashamed. A light red color surrounded his hazel irises. His voice didn't shake, however, when he spoke.

"She used to look at me like I was everything," He took in a shaky breath, "Then she looked at me like I was nothing and that killed me."

I was pretty sure I had wrapped Federico in a suffocating hug before he could even finish. Considering he was taller than me, I had to yank him down to my height, but he didn't seem to mind. I was surprised to feel his palm pressing against my back. Heat practically radiated from his touch and it branched out to every single part of my body. I was content in the warming hug, but Rico wasn't.

For the millionth time that night, Federico pressed our foreheads together and whispered two words I never thought I deserved to hear. "Thank you," His learned Italian accent accidently seeped through his quiet words.

"For?"

I leaned my head back when I felt Federico lean forward again, his eyes deadest on my lips. "Thank you for being my friend." They were still glazed over with unfallen tears as his gaze floated up to meet mine. The corner of his upper lips curled just a bit, then fell. His words were sincere and heartfelt.

"You're welcome, Feddy."

"Don't."

"You don't li-"

"Do not."

Smiles crossed both of our faces as we stood there, holding each other. I threw my head back in a laugh at his serious expression. His lips were pursed in a straight line and he had a look of complete annoyance written all over his face and his red cheeks. Despite the look, a smile still found a way on his face, brightening his eyes. But just like his red cheeks, my face grew the same shade when I felt his laughter hit my neck. And although his breath was warm, it sent chills throughout my body.

When my laughter did fade and I lifted my head back up, I hadn't expected to be that close to him. His head was already tilted and his lips were inches from mine. I felt butterflies alright, but they weren't from the nerves of whether he was going to kiss me or not; they were from the nerves of finding out what the hell Liam would say if he ever found out.

"If I did kiss you," Rico licks his lips, "How hard would you knee my penis?"

"Rico, you're my br-"

"Don't say it," He squeezes his eyes closed and shakes his head.

I smile, "You're my brot-"

"Faith," He grounds out through closed teeth. I squeal a bit, arching my body into him when I feel his fingernails dig into my waist.

"You're like my brother, Rico." I let out a laugh as his hands drop from my waist. I take two staggered steps backward, but it wasn't enough distance. Even though I had already angled my body to turn and run out the room in laughter, Federico managed to regain his lost composure and catch me. He was quick, I would give him that.

My hair fell around my face as he wrapped his large arms around my waist and pulled me up against him. My feet swung harmlessly in the air for a second or two before I was grounded. I couldn't help but laugh as Federico pushed my hair out my face and leaned over. I would never forget the smile I saw pierce his lips. I turned my head to the left when I felt a pair of lips press against my temple. He smiled during the kiss and mumbled against my forehead.

"If I'm your brother, then it looks like incest is my new thi-"

I punched him in the chest.

My hand now hurt.

I couldn't even begin to run. Rico spun me completely around and pulled me up against him. It didn't help that a thin layer of sweat stuck to his bare chest and as awkwardly as I could, I rested my palms against his pectoral muscles. The fact that they were firm and defined had to be pushed far into the back of my mind because that's how you get in trouble, ladies.

My head turned and I pressed my ear against his chest, closing my eyes. His chin rested on my head and we stood there in silence for a good few minutes, silent. It was comforting, it was peaceful; the hurtful words that Liam had uttered seemed to fade and the laughter that Federico had forced from me came to the forefront. I pulled away just a bit and at my movement, his grip loosened on my back and his head lifted from mine.

His eyes were piercing as he looked down on me. "I love you, Federico." I patted his stomach, "You never have to say it back, I don't care. But I want you to know, to always know, that I love you." Silence followed, but only for a little while. When I lifted my hand and pressed it against his chest, I could feel his heart beating; more like skipping. I smiled.

He didn't have anything verbal to say; instead, he leaned down and again, he pressed a kiss to my head. It was a non-verbal ending to our heart-to-heart. I let out a laugh and headed towards the exit, a permanent smile written on my face. I could still feel his gaze on me even while I sauntered towards the door, but his deep voice seeped into my ears, causing me to stop.

"Faith?"

Maybe it was the way he said it, but I felt my heart skip a beat as I turned around. Federico was standing right where I left him, his hands dug deep into the pockets of his pajama pants. The move caused his sweats to hang extra low on his hips, revealing just a teasing glimpse of a v-line. Moonlight illuminated his already well defined six pack and shoulders. His hair had grown just enough to finally mess with and I watched it, thanks to the light, stick up in every which direction.

A hand of his slapped his cheek and drew down, attempting to wipe away the dried tears. "If you ever tell anyone I cried in here, I'll kill you."

I smiled even at his threat, only because I knew he would never dare. "Okay, Rico."

I barely had time to turn my back when my name was called out again. "Yes?"

"If Liam doesn't come back for you, know I will."

This intrigued me. I took a step towards him, my eyebrows up and my mouth already halfway open, the question on the tip of my tongue. How the hell did you--- Then I thought about it for a second, I really thought about it. My eyes ran over the man that asked the question, the talented human being that stood before me, the same person I was proud to call my friend, a brother. Of course Rico knew, he always did.

I switched my question to a statement quickly. "Don't do that," I shake my head, "Don't come back and get yourself in the same situation you were in tonight. All you would be doing is putting yourself in the exact same problem and I can't-"

The lamp light flickered, causing both of us to shoot a glance at it real quick, then we turned back to each other. A slow smile crawls across Rico's face.

"If I have to do it alone, I w-"

I took a few steps towards him, shaking my head. I could feel the tears coming. I still wasn't sure what exactly had gone down tonight between Peter, his men, Federico, and Dominic but seeing the future scars that were beginning to line his back, I don't think I wanted to know. I came within arm's reach distance of him before I spoke again.

I never felt so small in all my life. "No."

Rico tilted his head to the right like a little puppy begging his master for a treat.

The light flickered again when Federico took a step towards me. It was probably a short circuit, definitely a fire hazard.

"No," I repeated a little more bravely this time, "I won't be the reason you get hurt. Not again."

"But there's a difference this time," He mutters as he reaches me.

"And what's that?"

I tilt my head upwards as a sick looking smile crosses Rico's face. The glint, glimmer, gleam in his eyes that were missing had suddenly returned and a chuckle crossed his lips. He looked confident and all-knowing as he spoke.

"They'll never see me coming."

And like it was planned, the light went out.

- - - -

When I woke up the next morning and saw William standing in the doorway, the first place I looked was his hands; just to make sure he wasn't welding any weapons - just in case he had changed his mind about the whole Kill Faith thing.

Truthfully, it was sad watching him be so easily replaced. There was a time when him and Liam were inseparable but those times were long gone. With Dominic and Federico now flanking Luciano's side, Will had been - literally - thrown to the corner and forgotten about. He never really came up in Liam and I's conversations, but when he did, Liam sounded as though he was just ready to let the man go on about his way, to enjoy college, and to evidently, get out of his life.

He wasn't wearing anything that stood out. With a pair of cargo pants on his hips and a plain t-shirt, he hooked a thumb over his shoulder and gave his hair a good shake. "Liam wants to speak with you," Will pauses as he reads my facial expression, "In his office," He finally adds. When I don't move, groan, or make any type of noise, he finishes with, "Now."

My head rolls to the right, where a handy-dandy digital clock stares right back at me. My eyes close when I read the time.

Eleven-Thirty Two A.M.

I nestle my head in the pillows, all thoughts and cares pushed to the back of my mind as I sink deep into the unfamiliar mattress. It definitely didn't have anything on Liam's bed and the fan that swung overhead squeaked every so often, but other than that, I had no complaints about the guest bedroom. I moaned into the pillow and muttered a response to William.

"The person you are trying to reach is not home at the moment, you may leave a message at the beep." I pause, then add in a high pitched tone, "Beep."

The next thing I knew, I was being pulled out the bed. My mind could hardly process my name let alone the abuse I was receiving from Will. One second I was clutching the duvet and the next I was being tugged to my feet.

"Look," I stumbled after William as his hand finds mine, harshly pulling me out the room. "Liam already hates me enough. If I don't bring you to him now, I'm a dead man." He lets out a frustrated sigh, "I'm surprised I'm not dead yet. Hell, I'm just waiting to wake up and find Federico standing over me with a knife saying, 'Liam said wassup bitch,' and bam, I fade from life."

I laugh, then yawn. I wanted to tell him that that was absolutely, without a doubt, absurd, but I didn't. It actually sounded highly possible.

"Michael must've had a change of heart," I spoke mostly to myself, thinking deeply about the way he's spoken of and to me recently. William looks over to me as we descend down the steps. We had come so far from when Michael had first offered up the opportunity to Will to kill me, then we fast forward to last night when he's practically offering up his blessings to me, saying, I think you found a keeper.

I shudder.

Once we hit the first floor, Will's hands find my elbows and he directs me to him. He leans down and lowers his voice to a mere whisper.

"I have to go do something, but please, please go see Liam as soon as possible. Okay?"

I nod, "Okay."

I didn't waltz into Luciano's office till a quarter to two.

1:45 to be exact.

I heard Liam before I saw him. "Right on time I see," His sarcasm was surely blessed. He came from my left, his fingers busy working the buttons on his peach colored dress shirt. A black tie was thrown around his neck, waiting to be tied. I caught a whiff of his cologne as he marched past me, signaling that I follow.

"You know me," I tease back. My eyes fall to his behind as he walks. "Punctuality is key."

Liam lets out a sound through his mouth that sounds much like a forced laugh. He whirls around as we reach the large desk that's pushed up near the wall, giving him just enough room to add a seat behind it. He marches around the desk, pulls his chair out, and drops down in it. I do the same to the chair that is seated just opposite of him.

"Faith, I called you in at eleven-thirty," He glances at the shiny, gold watch that clutches to his left wrist. "It's one-forty seven now."

Liam looks up for just a second as I find a comfortable position in the chair. The sound of squeaking and wood scratching wood echoes off the walls; I could've sworn I saw Luciano wince just before the cringing noises stop. I clear my throat and sit up.

"You wouldn't believe the amount of distractions there are between the guest bedroom and your office."

He looked unbelieving, but he nods just the same, "True, true," A breath slips past his lips as he leans back in the large chair. It almost appeared to consume him as his body slouched and a sloppy grin found a way on his face, "Silly me for assuming it was because you wanted to avoid me."

I blinked, unfazed. That was exactly the reason as to why it took nearly an hour and a half to find my way to him. He knew it too, I know he did.

I leaned back, like him, in my chair, distancing us even more then we already were. There was no hiding the fact that we were both staring at each other in uncomfortable silence, waiting, hoping, the other would speak up first. Liam had his elbow planted on the arm rest of the chair, his fingers propping his head up as the tips rested against his temple. A few strands of his hair fell to the left, just barely grazing his acne-free forehead.

I spoke first. "You didn't sleep good last night," That much was obvious. Dark circles hung below his eyes. They were faint but showed me he hadn't had a good rest in a few days. Liam sat up a little at my words.

"How can you tell?"

"The Michael Khors bags under your eyes are pretty obvious."

I felt a weight lift of my shoulders when he smiled. I hadn't seen it in a while and even if it was only a little bit, it lifted some tension that was hanging between us. He leaned forward just a bit more, his forearms now resting on the desk.

"Michael Khors?" A few of his fingers brush the sensitive skin under his eye, "Damn. I thought they were Chanel."

My serious, no bullshit façade was broken the minute Liam uttered those words. I let out a laugh and he followed with a deep chuckle of his own. My smile refused to falter after that and it was nice. For just a moment it was peaceful, I was back in high spirits, and everything between us seemed okay - even if it wasn't. The argument that happened last night had yet to be brought up and it still held onto us, dragging us down, but neither of us wanted to mention it - at least not yet.

Then he said, "We need to talk", and everything went downhill after that.

My smile wavered and fell and the sick, twisting feeling in your stomach that you get after seeing something you wish you hadn't, returned. Involuntarily, my hand clutched to a piece of my shirt that covered my stomach and my shoulders slumped just a bit. Liam stood quickly and stormed past my chair. I didn't follow him. All I had to do was hear the door being clicked shut behind me to know this 'talk' was about to proceed.

I swallowed and turned around as best I could in the chair, "We don't need to talk, Liam."

Last I saw of Luciano, his hand was still resting on the closed door. By the time I had turned around and mentally prepared myself to stand up, two hands clamped down on the armrests beside me and I froze. I couldn't stand up, knowing Liam was hovering overhead and if I leaned backwards any more, I would be pressed against his chest. I couldn't sit like this however, so I chose the latter. I fell back in the seat and let my head fall back. I was greeted by his handsome face staring right back down at me, only a few inches apart.

"I have lost so many people in my life Faith," His voice was deep, yet soft and soothing; polar opposite to what I had heard last night, "And I refuse to let you be another one of them."

My jaw locked, as did his. I matched my volume with his, "We have no other choice. It's either me or them."

"There's always another way."

"There may be," What I truthfully wanted to do in the moment was reach up and hold Liam's face in my hands, but I didn't. "But we don't have the time to develop an elaborate, Ocean's Eleven plan."

He didn't smile at my reference.

I saw a hint of sadness creep into the look he was giving me. It wrapped around the brown in his eyes and it stayed there, taunting me. "You jumped into this plan without even consulting me and you threw that bullshit out there without a second thought-" The anger was there, underlining his words. "It was like you didn't hear a word I've been telling you this entire time."

"I've been listening!" I stressed, "I listen to everything you say, Liam." His name came out harsher then intended.

"I'd rather lose all of this-" His hands are thrown to his side, displaying his office and most importantly, everything he has, "-then lose you." There was nothing sweet to his tone; it was forced and his anger was beginning to boil. His hands clasped the armrests again and his knuckles turned white after only a few seconds.

"You telling me I had no fucking say in this matter. You telling me you listen to nobody but your mother and God..." He gritted his teeth as he leaned down and whispered once more, "It was like a slap to the face."

I sulked lower in my seat, simply distancing our faces from each other. My eyebrows connected and I swore his face was coming closer. When I could feel his steady breathing on my forehead, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and re-opened them.

"Well then, now you know how it felt."

Liam recoiled like a snake that had changed its mind about jumping on its prey. The human cage he had put me disappeared as he took a few steps backwards. What I wished I could've done was snap a picture of his facial reaction. His eyes had grown wide and his mouth was open; he had lost all of his calm and collected composure. His hand was the only other thing that moved; he kept patting his palm against his thigh, as if that was his reminder to breathe.

I pushed myself up off the chair and turned just enough to face him. In reality, we stood only a few feet apart, but it felt like we were distanced by two oceans, three galaxies, and a few brick walls.

Luciano began fidgeting with his tie. He looped it around his neck and when he pulled it tight, I could've sworn he pulled it enough to take his neck off with it. His eyes never diverted from me the entire time and I was the first to break the eye contact. It was almost overpowering and the longer he stared, the harder I found it to breathe. He didn't turn away while he reached into his pocket and took out his phone.

I was still frozen footed when Liam marched up to me. I took a step back, hitting the edge of the desk in the process. My personal space was suddenly invaded by a six-foot Italian. Liam's chest pressed against mine as he dropped his phone to the desk, his eyes boring holes through mine.

I tore my eyes away from his intensifying gaze to glance down at his iPhone. By the time I looked back to him, his long strides were leading him out the room, leaving me in a cloud of his most expensive cologne. His deep, accented voice broke through the cloud of cologne and reached my ears.

"My contact list has been updated," He stated without breaking stride. Liam threw a look over his left shoulder just before he slipped out the door, smoothly, "He's under Vinny's bitch."

The phone was in my hand and unlocked in a matter of seconds. For those still curious, yes, Liam's password was still dedicated to his sister, Rosalie. Like he said, I clicked on the contact, hit the 'call' button and I waited.

And waited.

And finally, Peter Corinelli answered.

- - - -

The all-black SUV felt packed as it cruised smoothly down the California interstates. It was silent, the windows were up and the A/C was maxed, yet, that didn't manage to take away from the tension that hung low in the air. Michael was behind the wheel, one head steadying the vehicle as it reached eighty miles an hour. Federico was to his direct right, purposely leaning forward as to not initiate the pain that would be caused if his back rubbed against the seat.

William was sitting to my right, nobody having occupied the third row in the back. Liam was to my left, his leg occasionally bumping mine as we rode along. As close as we were, as much as our legs would touch, and our bare arms were brush against each other, never had I ever felt as distant from him as I did now. He might as well have been a stranger.

Awkwardness also settled itself in the car as everyone did their best to entertain themselves for the short lived car ride. Michael was more than likely dipping his mind in his own satanic thoughts, while Federico more than likely did the same. The younger man in the front seat looked highly uncomfortable as he stared out the window.

In the back, William's right leg kept bouncing and it often shook the seat we all shared; just once did I see Liam reach over my body and rest a hand on Will's leg, forcing the man to stop with just a look. I could tell Will was eager to speak, but the certain situation we found ourselves in kept him silent.

Then there was Liam. The words we had spoken - more like yelled - last night, including the words we said to each other today had only mounted the tension and awkwardness between us. Today's 'talk' had helped nothing. He kept his gaze out the window to his left and often I would catch him nibbling on his fingernail as he focused on the scenery we passed. What I did take note of, was the fact that he never leaned over to his right - to me - to look out and see where we were headed. I had a feeling it was because that would force us to be much closer than he pleased.

The car ride didn't feel long at all and before I knew it, Michael was sifting the car into park. For someone that didn't support my decision, Liam was the first out the car. A cool, late summer breeze blew into the car and for the first time since I got in that car, I actually felt as though I could breathe.

Michael was the next out the car, then Will, leaving both Federico and I alone. He had been quiet all day, as if our talk last night as never happened and he was still sulking over what Peter had done. I didn't blame him though, not at all. Leaning forward, he turned to his left and looked at me over his shoulder.

"Thank you."

I could've taken his Thank You in a few different ways. Maybe he was thanking me for talking with him last night, for holding him and allowing him to cry without being judged; or maybe he was thanking me for bringing back Rosalie - in which there was no secret that he cared deeply for - and Dominic, whom he has certainly grown close to over the short period of time they had together. After all, Dom was his Thunder Buddy.

I forced a smile, one that nerves and the weight and stress of what was to come tried to tie down. "You're welcome, Rico."

A beautiful pink glow was casted around the parking lot as I stepped out, surveying the land before me. The meeting place was perfect to say the least; right off the highway, but hidden behind just enough trees and unused buildings to stay off the radar.

A black SUV, similar to the one I had just climbed out of, was stalling on the other side of the parking lot. Two blacked out Mercedes surrounded it; one in front, the other in the back. Liam had already taken the lead and began to walk towards it, the three of us in tow. I shot a look behind me, eyeing Federico's figure that shone through the passenger side window.

Peter and his men had finally assembled themselves and began walking towards us, eventually, we would meet halfway. My eyes scanned the sea of black and for just a second, I started freaking out when I didn't see Rosalie or Dom; but my worries quickly subsided when a scream pierced my ears. Rosie was in the far back, holding the hand of a man that walked much slower than the others. He was dressed in a black, form-fitting suit with a pair of aviators pushed up on his head.

"Liam!" She squealed as her hand shot up and she started waving it frantically, "Hi, Li-" The man who's hand she held, leaned down and whispered something in her ear, shutting her up. She didn't look sad or disappointed after hearing his words; instead, it just looked like she had to contain her overflowing excitement to see her brother. I laughed when I saw her jump, her face turning purple. I was fairly certain she was screaming on the inside.

My smile faded when I looked to my left and saw Dominic. By this time, we had both stopped walking, keeping a safe distance between the groups. Dom wrenched his arms from the two burly men that held him and fell to the pavement, breathing heavily. His own legs couldn't steady themselves enough to stand and we all watched as he pushed himself to his knees and lifted his head. Blood dripped from his mouth and his curly hair stuck to his head, drenched to the core. The white undershirt he wore clung to his chest and his dress pants seemed stained with dirt and blood.

It took everything in me not to run up to him and help him.

Peter took a step forward first and said, "Nice doing business with you."

That was all; there was no spiel or deep message shared between the two. There were no outstanding threats or great places for dialogue. Dominic was thrown in our direction first; he stumbled but before he fell again, William and Michael caught him, offering up arms of support. Dom had no words for anyone as he was slowly assisted towards the car. I did catch the pained expression that had masked his handsome, yet sharp features.

And then there was Rosalie. Her parting was the longest. Peter didn't turn his back to us as he stared Liam down, unaware of the goodbyes that were shared directly behind him. The man in the dark suit squatted and smiled at the young girl. They shared a few words and at the end, she threw her arms around his neck. We all watched in silence as he took a folded piece of paper of his pocket and slipped it in hers. She nodded at his words and then bounded over towards us, a smile etching her face. It was so wide that I was pretty sure it would split her lips.

Liam's smile came straight from the heart. He bent down as the little girl came at bounding speed and jumped into her brother's arms, wrapping her own around his neck and pulling him close. Their hug was short, however, and before I knew it she was standing beside her brother, her hand now entwined with his.

His smile lasted as long as the parting look he gave me; seconds. I stood in my place, my balance wavering as Liam tore his attention back to his sister. He tugged at her hand, forcing to pull her towards the waiting SUV. Michael, along with Will, had returned to the car already.

But Rosie wasn't going in silence. "I told you!" She stood her ground and offered up the greatest insult of all - the sticking out of the tongue - to Peter, "I told you Liam would come back for me and he did. Hah."

"Bitch," Peter mumbles under his breath.

The little girl responds with the middle finger.

A few of the men behind Peter stifle a chuckle, and the man that had once held Rosie's hand offers up a full blown smile. Peter is the only one who starts to scowl.

"Rosalie!" Liam snaps and yanks on the girl's hand, drawing her away from me. He whacks her opposite hand downwards, his words still loud enough to hear. "Who the hell taught you that?"

She responds with the obvious, "Uncle Rico."

Liam's words, like the sun, fade in the distance as they close in on the SUV that awaits them. And suddenly I felt alone. The warming breeze had turned bitter, forcing goosebumps to rise on my arms. The feeling of the sun kissing your bare skin vanished, just like Luciano's car.

Michael's words were my only comfort, "Sometimes you have to sacrifice something you love, for the good of others."

And in this case, that was my life.

- - - -

"Sir, we have a situation."

Faith Crawford groaned at that; it sounded all too familiar. With her hands bounded by handcuffs, she was ushered out the car and through the driveway in a matter of seconds. The same man that once held Rosie's hand, now had his palm pressed against her mid-back, urging her forward gently. Peter Corinelli took the lead, an irritated expression on his face.

"I left you all for two fucking hours, how the hell do you fuck up that quickly?" He bounds up the steps, an assistant leading the way. The two stop at the front door, stalling Faith and Xavier's trip up the steps. They idle in the driveway.

"Sir, before you go in-"

"Open the fucking door."

Peter's assistant asked no more questions. Without hesitation, he threw open the front door. It was like opening the gates of hell. Men scrambled down the steps and around the foyer, their guns out and trained on something down the long, seemingly never-ending hallway. A few hid behind sofas, cushions, tables, and chairs, while others lied completely exposed on a carpet.

The leader of the home stepped in, followed by his right hand man and their newest prisoner. He didn't have to ask anything to get the answer he wanted.

"We had a break-in while you were gone, Sir," A man on the floor enlightens him. "The intruder has locked themselves in your office and won't come out."

"Is he armed?" Peter whisked past a few men and grabbed a spare gun on the table. He motions for Xavier and Faith to follow him. There was no way in hell he was letting his sight of the infamous Ms. Crawford.

"Unknown, Sir," Another replies.

The three march past what seems like hundreds of men. The long hallway suddenly grew short as they reached the door. Two large men stood at the door, pounding it with their fists and occasionally hitting the wood with the tip of their AK-47's. They back up once they notice their boss coming.

"Whoever is in there, you open this fucking door now or I swear to God I'll come up in there and fuck you up-"

Faith swallows nervously from her position. She was highly exposed and if anyone decided to open fire, she would be like a duck during duck hunting season - dead. She shuffles her feet at the feeling of Xavier's palm pressing against her back.

"It's open," A deep, yet muffled voice comes from behind the door.

Peter takes a bewildered step back and looks at his men, "Are you going to tell me you dipshits didn't try and open the door?" The two burly men were clearly all brawns and no brains. They glance between each other and shrug innocently. Peter Corinelli fights the urge to shoot the two idiots right here on the spot.

Throwing the door open, he steps inside expecting to find a trashed office; instead, it's the complete opposite. The office is spick and span, cleaner than when he left it. The loose paper that he had made a mental note of picking up was now resting peacefully on his desk. The pens that had begun to roll of his desk earlier during the day thanks to the wind were now placed perfectly and in-order at the corner of his desk. The book that had been teetering on the edge of the bookstand had been pushed back in place.

Faith and Xavier step in after Peter, eyeing the room with the same amount of curiosity. The large chair that Peter swore only he could sit in, was facing the bookshelf, forcing them three to look at the back of it. Whoever sat in the chair swung it gently from left and right, humming a dark tune.

Peter took one step towards his chair, his gun raised, "Turn around."

The person in the chair doesn't oblige.

"I said, turn around!" Peter takes another step, then the chair is turned and the person behind it is revealed.

Peter Corinelli drops his gun.

Sitting in the large, elegant chair with a black bandana wrapped around his forehead, pushing his hair off his face, is none other, then Vincenzo De Santis.

Vincent flicks his head upwards in greeting, "Wassup, Bitch."

- - - -

a/n: How did you feel about the Faith and Rico scene?

Liam and Faith?

Vincenzo? You think you know what he's planning on doing?

Till next time!

- TKXO