a/n: yes, i'm alive. barely. it's been a while since i've been able to sit down to write so if this chapter isn't up to par, i apologize GREATLY.

p.s. i'm so, so, so sorry for making you all wait.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Previously, on Potere:

In loving memory, of Federico De Santis.

"Brace yourself, Liam...they're coming.  You have my queen."

"—If the Russians can dismantle De Santis, then they can surely do the same to us."

"Ms. Faith, he doesn't answer anymore."

"The Rico you knew...isn't the Rico I sent to Russia."

"If you could pick the title for his story, what would you choose?"

"Tragedy to Majesty."

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

I wish I had friends, but it's hard maintaining a relationship that's based on lies.

I found myself constantly lying to the few women I did meet.  I made up excuses, lies as I tried to explain to them why I would randomly miss our class.  I couldn't tell the truth, I couldn't tell them that my boyfriend pissed off some very dangerous people and that staying home was to ensure my safety.  I couldn't invite them over and I cautiously danced around the topic of my personal life.  It's safe to say that my friendships never last long.

The money, the mansions, the exotic cars, and the beautiful men can attract any naïve person to this lifestyle, but I'm starting to see just how lonely it truly is.

Nathaniel is the only person I've managed to become – and stay – friends with since my stint at UCLA.  We met on the first day of class in August, just two months ago.  Our teacher thought an introduction activity would loosen the nervous students up.  We were told to state our name and a fact about ourselves to the class.  He stood to his feet and introduced himself as, "Nathaniel, a bisexual disaster," and I knew from that moment on we'd be friends.

Our friendship is limited to school-only hours.  We don't share texts or phone calls, our only interactions come when we're on campus.  For nine-minutes every week for two months, between our walks from the parking lot to the classroom, I've learned quite a lot about my new friend.  He has a better relationship with his father than his mother.  His parents are rich, which explains his incredibly nice car and why he offers to buy me lunch on campus every time we see each other.  He's sensitive about his height, hates salads, and manages to make me laugh whenever he speaks.

I think his humor is what drew me to him. I find myself laughing more in his presence than at home.  Being in his company is a brief, much-needed distraction from all the death and sadness that's awaiting me when I return home.

I nibble on a single fry, my attention lingering on whatever can capture it.  At noon, the campus cafeteria is packed as students rush by, hoping to grab a snack on the go or sit down for lunch.  Obnoxiously loud laughter and hushed conversations nearly drown out my thoughts as I sit across from Nathaniel, averting my gaze between him and the medium sized café fries between us.

He adjusts the beanie on his head and uses his free hand to dip a fry in his chocolate milkshake.  I watch him as he watches others laugh and socialize with a smile on their faces.  This is the first time we've been together where there's been this long of a silence.  You can tell he's thinking.  His eyebrows are connected, and his index finger is tapping a gentle beat against our table.

I snag another fry.  "You're thinking..."

He quickly turns to me, the corner of his lip lifting as he speaks with a level of sarcasm I'm used to.  "I don't do it often."

I can't even consider my laugh a laugh, but more of a quick release of breath.  Nathaniel's eyes are still on me, even after I lower my own to grab another fry.  I'm in the process of dipping it in ketchup when he talks again.

"I..." My eyes raise to him as he clearly struggles to get his words out.  He frowns and looks me in the eyes.  "This is the first day you've been to our class in two weeks and the last thing we talked about, if you remember—"

"—I remember." I interrupt, nodding.

"—you said you and your boyfriend, Liam, were having issues." He doesn't let my interruption stop his train of thought.  I can feel the tension in the air as he leans forward, lowering his voice for privacy reasons.  There's a nervousness about him that's making me nervous.  "I don't know this guy, I've never met this guy, so I only know as much about him as you tell me...so...I'm just going to ask this straight up." He inhales sharply, "Is he abusing you?"

I answer quickly; far too quickly. "No!" My initial response causes a couple tables to look in our direction.  Nate waves downwards, signaling for me to dial it back.  "No," I shake my head, "No. Nope. No, Liam hasn't hit me—he's not...no."

Nathaniel blinks.  "You answered that way too quickly for comfort."

I nod, silent.  Silent curses ring in my ear as tears rush up to my eyes.  The room grows hot as I squeeze them closed.  There's no way I can scramble out the booth and out the door before they fall.  I lean my head against my seat and clench my jaw.

"Not all abuse is physical, Faith."  I appreciate him showing genuine concern, but now it feels like he's trying to pull information out of me.  I hear him pause as he switches gears, "I know it's none of my business and honestly, I shouldn't have ever asked, I just... I know what it's like.  I know what abuse is like and I just want you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to..." He slides over a piece of paper, his numbers written on the front.  Nate points to himself, "I'm your guy."

I pocket the ripped-out piece of notebook paper with a smile on my face.  "Smooth."

"I thought it was," He boasts as he bites into another fry.

I fiddle with the strap of my backpack as he swallows.  My voice sounds different and I get chills just at the thought of what I'm about to do, what I'm about to say.  We lock eyes.  "I've been gone for two weeks, because we lost...a family friend."

"Oh, my God..."

"Suicide," I answer before Nate can even ask.

No matter how many times I utter that horrible word, no matter how many times I think it, the anger that rises in my heart doesn't fade.  Suicide is the word I'll continue to use for those that I can't tell, but I'll always believe that Federico was murdered even if he pulled the trigger.  He was forced and manipulated into a situation he saw no other outcome of.  Rico was murdered.

"Suicide." I state once more, even against my own beliefs.

Nathaniel's silence is a cause for concern.  I wipe at my eyes before tears can fall, noticing that he's just staring at me.  His lips are pursed, and a sad look clouds his features as he ponders for a second.

"You're quiet," I observe.

"I want to say something," He clears his throat, "but I'm sure you've heard it all before.  I would tell you that it gets better, but it doesn't – not for a while.  I would tell you that I'm here for you, again, but I'm sure you heard that at the funeral.  I would tell you that whoever they are, at least they're finally at peace, but you don't want to hear that.  You want them here."  He shrugs.  "There's nothing I can say to you that'll make you feel better, but I am sorry."

"Thank you," I smile softly as my eyes dance across his youthful face.  Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I slide out of the booth and stand in preparation to leave.

He grabs another fry.  "What for?"

"In general, for being a decent human being. There aren't many out there anymore."

He smirks up at me.  "I would toast to that, but we don't have champagne."

"Then let's make-do with what we do have." I lean over the table and steal my final fry.  Nathaniel does the same.  We smile and clink them together like flutes of champagne.  He laughs and leans back as we finish our fries.

"Should I expect to see you in class in two days?"

"Yes," I confirm, "As long as I see you at my party."

"You had me at party," He leans forward, suddenly engaged in conversation.  "When? Where? How should I dress?"

I laugh, "Relax.  It's a birthday party that Liam and I decided to host at our house." Nathaniel listens intently as I explain.  "Because of all the shit that's gone down, we kind of thought it would be a good idea to do something...fun.  Besides, it was our friend's birthday the other day and I'm pretty sure even he forgot." I sigh.  "Liam said I could invite my friends and considering I only have one outside of my small, family circle, I thought I'd ask him."

Nathaniel slaps a hand over his heart in a dramatic matter.  "Ms. Faith Crawford, I would be honored to visit your rich boyfriend's house—"

I roll my eyes, "—that's not the point!"

He completely ignores me.  "When is it?"

"Five o'clock."

"Tonight?!" Nate twists his wrist so violently to get a look at his watch I'm surprised I didn't hear it crack.  He sends me a disapproving look.  "That's in five hours! How the hell am I supposed to fix this—" He motions towards his face, "—in five hours?"

I shoot him a look of fake pity and begin to march away, "You'll be okay, kid."

He joins me at my side, clutching his backpack in one hand and our empty carton of fries in another.  He tosses them out as I push through a door leading outside.  Nate scurries to catch up, the party still on his mind.

"Do you mind if I bring a plus one?"

"Depends, who's your plus one?"

He pauses, hesitant.  "My brother."

I stop, frowning.  In all of our conversations, between me ranting about Liam and he, about his family, he has never once brought up the fact that he had a brother.

I stare at him, mouth partially open.  "You have a brother?"  Now it's my turn to catch up to him as he continues to stalk off, casually ignoring my look of disbelief.  "How come you never mentioned him?! I would love to get to know another you!" I playfully punch his arm, smiling as we dodge other students.

"I don't claim him." The humor in his voice makes me laugh, but then I pause, unsure as to whether he's actually joking or not.

"Wait, are you joking, or?"

"No," He sends me a tense smile.  "My brother is the exact opposite of me—"

"—so, he's handsome, funny, tall, and tan?"

Nate mocks a laugh before sending a glare my way, followed by a dry, "You're hilarious."  We both share a laugh.  "Five o'clock?"

"Five o'clock."

He pulls me into a side hug and smiles.  "We'll be there."

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

I send a text to Nathaniel, telling him to save this number and informing him and his plus one to wear formal attire to the party tonight.  I wave goodbye to my security detail, which they return in a salute.  Using my foot, I shut the door behind me as I fling my backpack to the wooden floor.  I slip out my TOMS and make my way through the foyer, searching the home quietly.  The sun was out, bright, warm, and rays of light cast themselves beautifully through the windows.

I turn the corner leading into the living room and stop.  Dominic is sprawled out on a sofa facing me, an arm and leg dangle off the edge.  His dress pants are wrinkled, his white shirt is unbuttoned, and his matching black-tie hangs loose around his neck.  A bottle of wine lies on the ground near his hand, knocked over. Dom's eyes are closed in an alcohol-induced sleep.

I fall to my knees once I reach his side.   I can't even begin to put myself in his shoes, to feel what he's feeling now.  I lost my sister, but the fact that I can hardly remember the incident plus discovering she was a horrible, conniving, devious little bitch helped cushion the blow of losing her.

Dominic Santiago deserves so much better.

He flinches awake the moment my hand contacts his.  Dom jerks upwards in a cold sweat. His eyes are wide as he sits up, his attention darting around the room as he gathers his bearings.  I lean back, a sorrowful look on my face as his heartrate returns to normal.  I gather the nearly empty bottle of wine in my head, shaking it to see just how much he's left.  It's not much.

"Dom..." I shake the bottle again, drawing his attention to it this time.  His face falls.  "If I recall correctly, I didn't think you were much of a drinker."

His eyes flicker over to mine, but only for a second.  "I guess people change."

My look must be a disapproving one, because instead of staring at me, Dominic leans forward on his knees, hiding his face in his hands.  I set the bottle on the coffee table and join him, easing myself down on the sofa beside him.

I don't want to scold him.  I can't scold him.  He'd defend his own behavior and we would get nowhere, but I do want to talk to him.  I want to talk to him like a friend would, not a disappointed mother.

I throw my arm around Dom's shoulders, giving them a gentle, reassuring pat, then rub.  "Where's everyone?"

He shrugs, lazily.  "Vincenzo and I have been here all day and he isn't much company." Dominic turns, our faces closer together than I initially thought.  For just a second, his eyes fall to my lips.  "Zara went to work today at the company and invited Carmen to join her, so she could get out the house."  Dominic's thumb reaches for his ring finger and I can just see slight disappointment in his features when he feels that his ring isn't there.  "Veleno went to the house to meet the guys' and begin training, Liam joined him just to make sure everything went smoothly."

I lean closer to him, my shoulder nudging his.  "Well, I think you should get out the house.  You should go meet up with them."

Dom just shakes his head.  "I don't want to."

I frown.  "Then good thing I'm not asking, Dom." I motion to him and to the wine on the floor.  "You can't just sit here and clean out our alcohol supplies."  He purposely avoids my gaze, causing me to reiterate myself.  "You cannot sit here and just feel sorry for—"

It's my turn to flinch as Dominic stands up, whirling on me, his fists clenched.  "I don't want to!"  His anger caught me completely off-guard, because of how uncharacteristic it is of him.  His face turns a deep shade of red, his voice lowers an octave or two.  I'm staring up at a man whose been level-headed from the day I met him.  He's always been calm, cool, collected even in tense situations.

"What did I do to deserve this?"  His question comes out like a breath.  He sounds uncertain, maybe even scared.  I stand and grab his forearms, pulling him close.  "Everyone's leaving me.  My wife..."

"If she had the choice, she would not have left you."

"My brother." He continues, "I know you all consider Rico having been murdered, but at the end of the day, Faith, he pulled the trigger.  He killed himself.  He left me.  He left all of us. And Liam...Liam doesn't need me anymore—"

"Dominic..." Dom drops to the sofa, massaging his temples as he bows his head.  I join him once again, stopping him before he can continue, "By sitting here, doing nothing, you're giving yourself too much time to overthink, and to bring yourself down.  So, please, for your own mental health, just...do something."

He releases a long breath.  "I don't have the energy to do anything."

I stand and position myself in front of him, forcing Dom to look up.  "Try and find your parents, then.  It'll give you something to do while we prepare for the Russians."

"I don't want to find them anymore, Faith."

Another idea shot down.  I groan.

"How could I find them?" He continues, his frown deepening.  "What would I do if I located my parents – our parents? How would I tell my mom that her baby boy put a bullet in his head? How would I tell my father that his son had the balls to end his life?"  I stay silent.  "I appreciate it, I really do.  You're trying to give me a purpose in this life, but I don't have one anymore."

I kneel in front of Dom and rest my hands on his knees.  "Fine." I state, "Last year, you told Rico that you two had another brother, a younger brother." I shake Dom's legs, gathering his attention. "You keep saying you failed Rico, fine, but don't fail this kid.  He can be your second chance.  He can be your purpose."

Dominic doesn't say anything for a while.  He licks his lower lips and sighs, defeated.  "A part of me wanted to find him, but like my parents, I don't want to anymore." He looks to me. "How dare I bring an innocent soul into a life like mine, like ours.  Wherever he is, he is ten times safer away from me, from this—" Dom waves his hand, "—I just hope he's living the life we always wanted."

We both share an awkward, half-smile.  I'm not entirely convinced, but I can understand why Dom would want to keep his last brother away from all of this.  I nod and swallow hard as I rise to my feet.  Dom extends his hands and with his help, I grab hold of them and ease him off the sofa.  He pulls me into a hug, his lips brushing against the top of my head in a sweet kiss.

I wrap my arms around him and glance up.  "You should take a nap, rest up before Vince's birthday party this evening."

His eyes wander, before falling back on me.  I see his lip curl downwards and I sigh.  "Do you think we're doing the right thing?" He wonders.  "Should we really be celebrating a birthday amidst everything that's happened?"

"No," I answer surely, "but we need something to be happy about."

Dominic and I part ways shortly after.  In silence, I watch him climb the steps, appearing exhausted as he does so.  I spin slowly, taking in the quiet room, the quiet house.  I can hear the birds outside.  I can hear the whistling of the wind.  I can hear my own thoughts, which currently revolve around my growing worry for Dom.  He's lost three very important people in a span of two years, and if that isn't a reason for someone to break, then I don't know what is.

"Dammit!" I jump as a curse echoes from down the hall.  A crash follows, trailed by even more curses. "Dammit! Dammit!" I turn the corner and make a beeline towards the sound of the noise.  "You can't do anything right..."

Austin Romano stands in the middle of Liam's private office, his hands entangled through his hair.  I push the double doors open with ease, cautiously stepping inside.  I make sure Austin sees me, which is something I've been working on since my time with Liam.  Sneaking up on some of the best assassins, including men who are trained to defend themselves, isn't a smart move and finding out what they would do to me if I did, is not something I have on my bucket list.

I speak with a light tone, hoping to ease the tension I'm sensing.  "Talking to yourself?"

Austin's hands fall to his side as he lowers himself into a squat, trying to clean up the mess he made on the floor.  Manila folders are everywhere, their contents scattered as they mix together.  He gives me a quick look, making note of my presence, before twisting his body away from me.  I step further into the room now, with his back facing me.

He clears his throat.  "Yeah. Sometimes you need expert advice."

I like to think that I've grown as time has passed.  In a house full of men, my voice is easily drowned out whenever they raise theirs.  They talk, laugh, and yell louder than I ever could, which is why I rely more on listening than speaking these days.  Body language and tone can tell you everything you need to know, and even though he'll never admit it, Austin Romano is an open book.

He's more inexperienced and less popular than his predecessor, Dominic Santiago, and he knows that, but the constant reminders from his so-called friends and the boss he's trying to impress, isn't helping.

I bend down, assisting Austin as we gather loose papers together.  I scan the name on the top right-hand corner, quickly matching it with it's specific folder.  I slide the thin sheets back into their home and set it aside, moving on to the next.

"What're you doing here?" I look up to him, waiting for an answer.

Austin stands, setting the stack of folders on Liam's large, mahogany desk.  "You mean...other than wallowing in my own self-pity?"

I snort.  "Yeah."

"Liam wanted me to retrieve his file on Diavolo and..." He begins tapping the wood with his finger, delaying.

I stand, throw my arms across my chest, and lean my hip against the desk.  "And?"

Austin speaks so quickly, I almost miss it.  "...I can't do anything right—Have you ever been compared to someone?" He deflects his confession as he looks to me, waiting for an answer.  "Every single day since I've been here, nearly nine months ago, I've been compared to Dominic Santiago.  I respect the work that Dominic did while he was here, but..." His eyes lift over my shoulder as his head moves from side to side in irritation.  "...they won't give me a chance. They don't even respect me."

"Have you given them a reason to?"

His eyes land on mine as he ponders my question.

"Respect is earned, Austin, and I can assure you, Dominic had to grind his ass off to get those men to obey him."

"How do I earn their respect when they don't even give me a chance?"

Now it's my turn to think.

"And Liam," Austin continues, "I've been here nine months and I can't even get that guy to tell me his favorite color!" He lets out a long, defeated sigh.

"Listen to me, okay?" I step forward, gathering his undivided attention.  "You are trying to compare a nine-month relationship to a brotherhood.  Dominic Santiago and Liam Luciano were more than just partners, they were more than just friends, they were more than just Don and Underboss.  They're brothers, but most importantly, they see each other as equals."

Austin shifts in his stance.  "You're saying Liam looks down on me, whereas he looks Dominic in the eyes."

"That's exactly what I'm saying.  You need to give him a reason to trust you, and the respect will come soon enough.  But, I can assure you, hiding information like what was on that audio tape, will not get the results you so desperately want."

He runs a hand through his hair and turns away, deep in thought.  "I was going to tell him about that, I just... he was so busy that I hadn't found the time to pull him aside..."

I frown.  "The family knew about it before Liam did.  Austin, I haven't been around that long, but even I know the family never finds out information like that before Liam."

He slouches.  "Rookie mistake."

"Can I ask, why were you waiting to tell Liam about the USB?"

Austin shrugs, hesitant to tell me. "I guess I just...I know how much this...Rico...meant to you all and I suppose I...just wanted to spare him."

"Rule number one," I emphasis with a smile, "Do not spare feelings.  This is the mafia, not first grade."

He gives me a sheepish smile. "Noted."

"Also," I lean forward and lower my voice in a whisper. "If you can harness that ego of yours, I would highly suggest going to your predecessor for more tips." Austin lifts an eyebrow.  "Dominic is a good guy and he can help you more than I can." I admit, "He can help you gain Liam's trust, his respect. He can teach you how to deal with the family, and hey, if you ask nicely, he may even tell you Liam's favorite color."

Austin smiles in response.  "You're sweet."

I wink, playfully.  "Somebody has to keep these murderous men in line."

He throws his head back in a laugh as I motion towards the rest of the room. "Come on, let's find this folder so you can at least show my boyfriend you can do something right."

Our conversation ceases as our search begins.  Liam keeps files on nearly every influential person he has met within his time as the Don of the Luciano family.  The original files can be found in his office at the family home, whereas the duplicates can be found here, in his personal office.  From birthdates, to birthmarks, to known health issues, Liam has enough information on these people to bury their families, their friends, and themselves.

Austin takes the right side of the room as I take the left, inspecting the metal, file cabinets that are pushed against the wall.  I open and shut the first two drawers after a quick scan.  I position myself into a squat as my fingers run along the organized tabs.  I land on D and quickly look over the subfolder.  Diavolo's folder is nowhere to be found.

I move to the R tab, figuring if he wasn't under D for Diavolo, maybe he was under R for Russian.

I stop as soon as my fingertips brush along the file with RICO scribbled along the tab.

I frown.  "Liam has a file on Rico?"

I'm surprised when I shouldn't be.  Liam has files on some of the most intimidating, rich, and corrupt men in not only the United States, but the world – so should I really be shocked that he has a few pages of information on one of the most notorious assassins in this decade?

Austin's too busy searching to catch me distracted.  I flip the folder open and brace for the worst.

Federico De Santis – Grayson Justin Chandler

D.O.B – December 24, 1992.

(1-10) Threat Assessment - Despite his unpredictable behavior, impulsiveness, and uncanny talent of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, Federico De Santis is one of the smartest and most talented man I've ever met.  He hides his feelings and his intelligence behind sexual comments and unnecessary jokes.

Having been left on the steps of an orphanage at birth, he silently deals with personal issues revolving abandonment, depression, and anxiety.  His suicidal tendencies do not help with his known reckless behavior.

To the world, Federico De Santis is a level 10 threat.

To us, he is not a threat at all.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

Austin eases himself into Liam's extremely large, overpowering, and completely unnecessary desk chair.  For the time being, he seems to have abandoned his mission of finding Diavolo's file. He seems more interested in gently swaying from side to side as he watches me with curiosity.

I nod and quickly regroup by sliding Federico's folder back where I found it.  I search the rest of the R folder before standing up and closing the door with my foot, unsuccessful.

"I know this technically isn't any of my business, but are you and Liam...having issues?"

"You're right," I force a tight smile.  This subject is one I'm tired of having brought up.  Between Nathaniel earlier today, Austin now, and Liam's explanation still running through my mind from the other evening, I want nothing more than to talk about something else.  I let out a breath.  "That isn't any of your business."

Austin doesn't appear to be backing down.  He leans forward, hands folded, lips pursed in a straight line.  His eyelids lower as he focuses on me.  "It wasn't any of my business until a few concerned men made it my business."  I curse as Austin shifts in the chair.  "Your dysfunction is obvious, and people are starting to notice.  They don't come to you out of respect for your privacy, and they don't approach Liam because as of recently, well, he has a short fuse.  So, they're coming to me."

My silence is beginning to unnerve him, and I can tell.   My lips part, then close in uncertainty.  I haven't voiced my concern about Liam and I's relationship to many and the internal struggle has been hard.  And although Liam and I addressed the issue only a few nights ago, a part of me still doesn't feel like our problems have been resolved.

My eyes fall to my feet.  "He's always traveling.  He's constantly working.  Before the other night, I couldn't even remember the last time he kissed me, hugged me, touched me.  An insecure part of me thought—" I stutter, not exactly believing Liam when he said that he was not cheating on me.  "—a part of me thinks he's been stepping out." I look up, meeting Austin's unblinking stare.  "Liam used to tolerate a lot from this family, even disrespect, and when Zara poised the question, what the hell is wrong with my son? A part of me broke, Austin, because I know what's wrong."

He blinks, his eyes traveling around the room before landing back on me.  "What's wrong?"

My confession brings tears to my eyes.  "He's becoming like his father."

Austin glances around, warily.  "I'm assuming that's not a good thing?"

"No!" I snap, "Michael Luciano literally paid Ellie Mitchell, Liam's ex-girlfriend, also my sister, to be with him.  Then, she didn't want to deal with it anymore, so she went to the authorities, which, as you know, broke Omertà meaning she had to die.  Michael and Vincenzo De Santis were best friends, so Vince lent our friend, Federico, who was around fifteen at the time, to take care of her.  Rico is the one who pulled the trigger, which caused our car accident, which killed my biological father, my sister, Ellie, and caused me to forget...pretty much everything.  I mean, my memory of the incident has begun to come back, but not completely—"

"—wait," Austin lifts a hand, stopping me.  "Liam dated your sister?"

"Yeah," I breathe out, "catch up.  Before all of that though, Michael threatened to kill Zara because he was afraid that she would take Liam, his only son, and run away with him and obviously, Michael wanted Liam to be the heir of this family.  So, Zara ran for her life while Michael hired Vincenzo, who was a badass assassin at the time, to kill her.  That's how they know each other. Oh, and, get this," I lean against the desk, arms folded, "Michael slept with Ellie.  Isn't that disgusting?!"

Austin's jaw slacks.

"Michael Luciano wasn't a good person," I conclude, "but he was...somehow...likable."

The silence that follows is awkward.  I can feel Austin looking me up in down, disbelief, confusion, and uncertainty written all over his youthful face.  He lifts his hands as he strokes his facial hair, the side of his face, then covers his mouth with his hands in preparation to speak.

"I'm going to casually dance over everything you just said, because that's a lot to process," Austin begins, "But what you said earlier about Liam, I will speak on." He pauses, giving me time to brace myself.  "I'm with Liam more than anyone else in this family and I can assure you, he's not cheating on you.  Now, I can't sit here and lie and say women don't try to make advances, but he has never once entertained."

It feels like weights have been lifted off my chest, but I'm still not entirely convinced.  "I know I should trust him, but it doesn't help when it feels like he does everything he can to avoid me.  To avoid sleeping with me, comforting me, hugging me, kissing me.  It doesn't help when he's gone all the time.  It doesn't help that he's been distancing himself even more since Rico's—" I wave a hand, indicating the word I refuse to speak.

Austin silently watches me, his hands folded neatly on the desk.  Every so often he blows a strand of his dark hair off his forehead, but other than that, his expression remains neutral, unreadable.  I groan as I look to him.

"And for some godforsaken reason, Liam thinks I'd be safer if we broke up."

Austin's eyebrows slowly form a frown.  "And you don't?"

"No! I think it's ignorant!"

"With all due respect, Ms. Crawford," Austin leans forward, intent on getting his point across. "You are only of importance because of your relationship with a man whose past generations practically orchestrated La Cosa Nostra.  You are constantly in the sights of our rivals, of cartels, and now the Russians, because of your relationship with Liam." He pauses, "If you two broke up, do you really think the Russians, or any other threat, would continue to pursue you?"

My lips part, but no words come.

Austin shoots me an apologetic look.  "At the end of the day, you're just another white girl in a country full of them."

I try to act offended, but I can't.  Everything Austin's said is true.

"Don't discredit, or even laugh at Liam's idea of ending things with you, because in truth, if he did, you would no longer be in the sights of some of the most wanted men in the world." The look on Austin's face resembles sympathy.  The corner of his lip lifts.  "What's that saying again?"

"If you love something, let it go," I mumble.

"He's always talking about you.  He's always showing me pictures and telling me how proud he is of you.  He's willing to sacrifice everything you two have for you to be safe.  He's willing to break his own heart and yours, just for your eventual happiness?" Austin's smile is genuine as he leans to his left, tugging on a drawer in curiosity.  He closes it and leans to the opposite drawer.  "I've only experienced love a few times, and it's never been anything like—"

Austin pauses as his eyes land on the contents of the drawer.

I take a step towards him, trying to peer over the desk and around his frame.  He's oddly still, and whatever he's study has all his attention.  "Austin? You okay?"

He quickly retrieves a manila folder and places it on the desk, a weary smile crossing his face.  Clearing his throat, Austin flips open the file and sucks in his breath.  Like Federico's folder, the front page is dedicated to a small, wallet-sized photo of the individual.  The photo I'm staring at now looks like one you would throw out while getting your pictures developed at Walmart.

It's pitch black, as if someone's thumb accidently blocked the lens.

There are more question marks than answers in the file.  Diavolo is marked as a nickname, while a question mark covers the slot where a birthname would be written and instead of having a beautiful, well-written paragraph, Diavolo is given three words.

'DO NOT ENGAGE.'

"You know what sucks?" Austin flips a page, quickly browsing the folder before closing it.  He looks up to me.  "Nobody outside a select few of Russians know what this man looks like."  Austin shrugs, looking upset.  "He could be here, in this home, and nobody would know a thing."

"True," I agree, "You could be Diavolo and I would never know."

Austin leans back, a mischievous smile on his face.  "What if Liam was Diavolo?"

"Better yet, what if Steven was Diavolo?"

"That little dork?" A laugh erupts from Austin as he begins to stand.  "If Steven was Diavolo, I would be more impressed than scared."

Our laughs mingle together as Austin pushes Liam's seat in and tucks the file underneath his arm.  He rounds the desk and sends a warm smile in my direction.  "I should hurry up and get going before Liam sends out a team to look for me."  Austin shuffles his feet as his eyes fall to them.  "Thanks for talking with me."

"I should be thanking you, too," I find it somewhat cute that he's unable to look directly at me.  "Hey," I take a step forward and rest a hand on his forearm, "you should go, go show my boyfriend that you deserve this job."

I give Austin a gentle shove towards the door as he shouts out another thank you.  I snort with laughter as he hits the doorframe, bounces off, proceeds to hit the wall, then sprint down the hallway, out of sight.  He's gone, and for the first time in a while, I'm alone, left with nothing but my cheek-hurting smile.

I can understand why Liam constantly retreats to the room located in the corner of our large home.  You can't hear Rosalie's energetic screams of excitement whenever she realizes her favorite television show is on.  You can't hear Zara and Vincenzo's phone conversations – which, she leaves on speaker – as she prepares our next meal.  You can't hear me yelling as Liam quickly retreats to this room of solitude to avoid my shouts as our arguing continues.

I round his desk, eyeing the neatly stacked pile of papers, awaiting Liam's signature.  My finger trails the edge of the desk, my eyes scanning every engraving, every scratch mark.  I find myself easing into his seat and for the first time, I feel what Liam must feel daily.  The pressure that follows while one sits on the throne.  The weight of the crown.  The stress of leading an entire empire, all while being the face of one of the most popular criminal organizations in the world.

I sink into his seat, relishing in the peace, quiet, and scent that Liam's aftershave left behind.  My pursed lips slowly begin to form a frown as I begin to blame myself.  I blame myself for not reaching out to Rico as much as I should have once he left California.  He thanked me for being his friend before he left, but I wasn't a good one once he was gone.  Now he's gone, and I can't make the phone call that I kept procrastinating on.

Out of curiosity, I pull a drawer open, my eyes falling on stacks of papers and loose pencils.

I do the same to the drawer on my right.  At the sight of what was lying on top, my heart stops and my stomach drops.  I now understand why Austin paused like he did.

A ring box.

There as no decision to make.  With a quick glance at the closed door, I lean forward, grab it, and flip it open.

RITANI, is etched into the material underneath the top of the box and nestled in a plush fabric, is the prettiest – and largest – diamond ring I've ever laid eyes on.  Small diamonds line the band while a large diamond sits on top, surrounded by smaller ones.

It was expensive, it had to be.

In a way, my excitement wears off and soon I'm staring at the ring, deep in thought.  I could only assume Liam purchased the ring months ago, before we started having our problems, and if so, why didn't he propose then? What stopped him? Wh—

The doorknob is already being twisted by the time I look up, meaning I have approximately two seconds to decide a plan and act on it.  The two seconds pass in the blink of an eye. With my back pressed against the seat, my leg crossed over the other, and the gorgeous ring in my hand, twirling as I inspect it, Liam enters.  His phone is up to his ear, but his eyes land on me, then the ring.

"I'm going to have to call you back." Liam doesn't wait for the person to respond to hang up.

I lift my eyes to his as he cautiously takes each step as if the room is littered with landmines.

I stutter, hesitating.  A part of me wants to apologize, to tell him that I shouldn't have been snooping around; while another part of me doesn't feel the need to apologize, but instead, to question.

The diamonds glisten underneath the office lights as I twirl the beautiful ring between my thumb and index finger, silently admiring it.  "How long have you had this?"

Liam approaches carefully, his hands extended towards the ring.  The shimmering ring has more of his attention than me.  "Fourteen-karat white gold, with a 3.00 carat diamond." He plucks the ring from my grasp and eases it into its case.  His eyes finally land on me.  "Forty-three thousand dollars."

I'm more worried about the length of time this ring has been sitting in his desk than the cost of it.  "How long?"

"Long enough," He finally responds.

"Liam."

He turns his back to me and takes the ring box with him.  I don't have to wait long for an answer.

"I bought the ring in July," Liam spins around, facing me once again.  His expression is a mixture of disappointment and nervousness.  His eyes dart around quickly, avoiding my own.  "I wanted to propose in August, for our one year."

I frown, leaning forward. "Why didn't you?"

Liam's shrug wasn't a response, but a distraction from the truth that circulates in his beautiful, brown eyes.  His pause is so long my palms begin to sweat.  My mind automatically rewinds the last two months, trying to think of every scenario that would explain this.

His eyes finally meet mine and my chest tightens.  In these last few weeks, I've seen Liam shed enough tears and I don't think I have the strength to watch any more fall.  His jaw tightens.

He's struggling.  The truth is on the tip of his tongue, just begging to be spilt like hot tea, but it won't come out.  In frustration, he throws up his hands, mutters a curse, and angles his body towards the door to leave.

I spin out the chair, round his desk, and grab Liam's shirt before he has a chance to take another step.  A sigh escapes his lips but he doesn't fight my hold, despite being able to break out of it with ease.  From behind, I wrap my arms around his torso and squeeze.

Now was certainly not the time to admire his backside, but here I was, silently admiring it.

"Talk to me." I mumble into the back of his shirt.  "This, this is our problem.  We have unresolved issues that we don't speak of because we're worried about hurting the other person and in the end, it's only hurting us, as a couple.  So, please, talk to me.  Why didn't you propose back in August?"

"A small part of me didn't think you'd say yes," He finally admits.  "Then I thought to propose next month, on your birthday, but..." Liam waves his hand dismissively.

I lean forward, "But?"

Liam's eyes close.  "I wanted Rico to be my best man."

I can't find words to respond with.

"My actions don't always show it, especially as of recently," He rests his palms against my cheeks, drawing me close and lowering his voice.  "but you, Faith, you're the woman I want to marry.  You're the woman I want to be the mother of my kids.  Please, believe it, no matter how stupid I may act."

I hold on to his forearms and smile up at him.  "Just so you know, if you had proposed in August, I would've said yes – a thousand times over."

"And if I proposed now?" He questions.

"I would tell you to hold that thought," I answer truthfully.  "Not because I wouldn't say yes, but because I know where your head's at, and it's not a good place."

Liam nods in understanding.

"However," I lift a finger, waving my bare nail in his face.  "When you do, if you do plan to propose in the near, or distant future, please be considerate and make sure my nails are done beforehand."

His slight laugh is rewarding, and the cause of my widening smile.  "Of course I will, as long as you promise to say yes."

I give him a quick kiss, then another as my promise.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Mr. Luciano."

"I'm trying to show you that I do," he continues, "Every day, I swear."

"While we're on the topic of expressing love, you wouldn't happen to have any idea how all forty-eight items in my online shopping cart and wish-list managed to make it on my bed this morning, would you?"

My sarcasm is evident and my heart flutters as Liam's cheek taint a slight red.  He tries to suppress his smile and watching him fail made my day.  Our chuckles fill the room as he pulls me into a hug, a genuine smile spreading his lips apart.

"No idea," he lies.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

By the time I arrive, the birthday party is already in full swing.  The double French doors leading from the home to our beautifully manicured backyard are wide open, allowing guests to move from inside to outside easily.

I smile as a few men nod out of respect in my direction as I pass by.  I manage to dodge a group of partygoers as I lock eyes with a waiter, who smiles and discreetly points out the back doors, indicating Liam's direction.  I mouth a thank you and head outside.

I recognize nearly all of the guests at the party, since the only people invited were those within the family.  Liam didn't encourage it, especially with our active threat, but he was okay with everyone bringing one friend – even if they weren't involved with the Luciano name.

Most men are dressed the same; slacks, dress shirt, and a suit jacket.  Some even added a tie, while others went tieless.  The few women I do see, are wearing elegant, shimmering dresses.  I kept it simple with a plain black dress and sandals.

I scout Liam out of the crowd and reach his side in seconds, throwing my arm around his waist and leaning in.  He manages to snatch an extra glass of champagne from a nearby tray and hands it to me with a smile.  I thank him, mindful not to interrupt his ongoing conversation.

"He literally stole my style." Austin motions toward Steven, who stands by his side with a prideful smile on his face.  The two look great, both of them supporting dress slacks, a white shirt, a suit jacket, and a bowtie.

"I didn't steal your style." Steven retorts, "I was simply walking past your room, saw you wearing a bowtie, and thought I should wear one too."

"That's stealing," Austin mutters before downing the contents of his glass.

Steven sends Austin a glare.  "This is really bothering you, isn't it? Or is it something else? Are your nuts still sore from Liam—" A laugh erupts from the back of my throat as Steven reaches down in the direction of Austin's crotch.

His hand is quickly swatted away.  "Don't touch me," Austin demands.

Steven adjusts his glasses.  "Are you a top?"

Liam spits his champagne back into his glass at Steven's random question.

Austin's jaw clenches.  "I'm not gay."

I have to hold back laughter at the look Steven sneaks me as he quietly sips his champagne.

"I'm leaving." Austin nods towards his boss, before glancing at me, acknowledging my presence for the first time.  "You look beautiful, Ms. Crawford.  Steven? Don't follow me."

Silence falls on our group as Steven wordlessly sways on his heels and Liam discards his ruined glass for another.  I swirl the drink around in my glass, occasionally taking a sip to ease the awkward silence.

"You know," Liam nods in Austin's general direction, "I don't think he likes you very much."

"He doesn't." Steven replies with ease. "He'll learn to though. I hear I'm an acquired taste."

"To say the least," Liam mumbles against the rim of his glass and he takes another swig.

I eye his outfit and smile.  "You look good this evening, Steven."

"As do you, Faith." He returns my smile before turning to overlook the party.  "I should probably get going.  I'll catch you all later."

I take another sip of champagne before turning to Liam.  I hold the glass up high.  "You know, I'd rather a well-made smoothie over champagne any day."

His eyes roll into the back of his head, but he smiles none-the-less.  "I'm sure you do, but at parties and events, you need to at least appear to be able to handle your alcohol."

"Yeah, well, you know I don't like that stuff."

"What're you going to have at the wedding?" He teases, "Fruit punch?"

"Yes," I smile, "At least I don't have to worry about Rico spiking it."

The moment it came out, I regretted it.  I meant it as a joke, one that would make us both smile, but it was still too soon.  Liam grimaces as he finishes off the rest of my drink.

He quickly changes the subject.  "I wanted to speak with you, actually, about my mom."

His hand finds to small of my back as he leads us away from the larger crowd, towards the edge of our fenced in property.  We pass by waiters who stand near a large, buffet table full of finger food and drinks.  They nod towards us as we walk by.

"What about Zara?" I angle my body around his to face the party.  His hand stays on my back, while I use his forearm for support.

Liam pauses, his eyes scanning the crowd as he tries to formulate a well thought out sentence.  "I want you to learn more about her and Vincenzo's dynamic."

I roll my eyes and translate Liam's sentence.  "So, basically, you want me to figure out if they had sex or not?"

"No! No," He huffs at my lack of understanding.  With hands on either of my shoulders, Liam spins me around, leaving me standing there with my back to the crowd.  With the distractions limited, he continues.  "The Russians don't plan on killing Vince, if they did, he would've been dead.  They want him to suffer, and for all we know, my mother is the last person on this earth that he truly cares for."

"Meaning the Russians are coming for Zara," I nod.

"Yes.  Meaning, I want to know the truth about their relationship.  I want to know everything, but there are things I'm sure she won't admit to me.  She would never tell me if they ever got physical and she definitely wouldn't tell me if she was ever in love with my dad's best friend."

"But she'd tell me," I conclude.

"I just need to know what I'm working with," Liam sends me a soft smile.  "You think you can do that for me?"

I step back, away and out of his arms as I salute.  "Sir, yes Sir!"

He blinks.  "Don't ever do that again."

"Would that piss you off if I did that while we were having sex?"

"Yes, yes, it would..." His words fade as he stares over my shoulder, his eyebrows beginning to furrow.  His hand finds my hip as he tugs me towards his chest.  Liam rests his chin on my shoulder as I bury my face in his chest, inhaling his scent.  I squeal and slap him as his hands slide a little too low.  "Someone's staring," He explains softly in my ear.

I push away from him.  "So you grab my ass?!"

He shrugs, nonchalantly. 

"Faith! Hey!"

I spin around with a smile on my face, discreetly slapping Liam's hand once again as it brushes against my ass.  Nathaniel approaches, gleaming.  I hardly have the time to admire his vibrant shirt and vest before I'm enveloped in a tight, endearing hug.

The second he releases me, his hand extends towards Liam.  "Hi," Nathaniel greets, "you must be the boyfriend?"

Liam allows Nate's hand to hang, suspended between the two as he contemplates shaking it.  Ignoring his handshake could be considered rude, but Liam was raised in an environment that didn't take handshakes as lightly as we do.  To him, a handshake is a gesture that equalizes power between two people.  As the quote on quote, top dog, Liam doesn't shake many hands.

To my surprise, Liam offers his hand for a shake.  "And you must be the classmate." His voice is deep, his accent thicker than usual.  He did that on purpose.

"Nathaniel," my friend smile.

"Liam Luciano," my boyfriend forces a smile in return as their hands part.

Nathaniel notices my eyes drifting over his shoulder.  He steps to the side, gesturing towards his plus one, his brother.  The look on his face tells all.  This is the last place he wants to be.  He's taller than his brother and the lack of facial hair makes him appear a few years younger.  The moment Nate moved from in front of him, his arms folded across his chest as if he felt exposed.  Just at a glance, you can tell the personalities between the two differ greatly.

Nathaniel motions toward the young man.  "This is my younger and uglier brother, Gabe."

I put on the most warming, friendly smile I can muster in hopes of cracking Gabe's neutral expression.  With his arms still folded across his chest, he flicks his wrist in a disinterested wave.  He keeps his eyes trained on the grass, unable to make eye contact with Liam and I.  Based on Gabe's body language, you can tell confidence is something he lacks.

With a forced smile on his face, Nathaniel grabs his brothers arm and looks to us.  "He's shy.  We're going to check out the drink table and dart game that's going on over there." He nods in the direction that they're headed.  "I'll find you later, Faith!"

"It was nice meeting..." Liam's words fade as the two scramble away, their voices still audible even at this distance.

"What did I tell you before we left?" Nate tugs his brother's arm, visibly irritated and annoyed at his behavior.  "For once in your goddamn life, stop being a little anti-social brat."

Surprisingly, Gabe speaks loud enough for us to hear.  "You don't understand—"

"—I understand that you need to speak up and stop acting like a little weak bitch." Nathaniel shoves his brother away and makes a quick turn in the direction of the food.

His back is turned, leaving him unable to see his brother stop and rub his arm.

"Your friend seems...nice," Liam observes as they walk away.

I turn in a circle, observing the crowd for a few people I haven't seen this evening.  I'm glad Nathaniel stopped by before continuing to enjoy the party, and I'm thankful I found Liam, but I haven't seen Carmen, Zara, Dom, Rosie, or the belated birthday man himself, Vincenzo.

I touch Liam's arm.  "Have you seen—"

On cue, a distressed cry for help echoes from an open window that's overlooking the party.  Conversations cease and laughter fades as heads angle upwards.  I can feel the eyes of security land on us.  Liam lifts a hand and points a finger in their direction, already shouting a command.

"Hold your position."

The party slowly begins to return to normal as Liam grabs my hand, beelining towards the entrance of our house.  He ignores everyone who tries to get his attention as we round the corner and bound up the stairs as quickly as we can.  As soon as we hit the landing for the second floor, Dominic exits his room with Carmen trailing him.

Dominic reaches Liam's other side.  "What's going on?"

I take the opportunity to glance behind Carmen, lifting a suspecting eyebrow in silent question.

She already knows what I'm thinking of and she dismisses it quickly by making a cutting motion across her neck.

We aren't ready for what we see when we enter Vincenzo's bedroom.  Zara stands a few feet from the bed, her hands cover her mouth as tears stream down her face.  Her shoulders shake violently, and Liam's first reaction is to comfort her until he realizes why she's crying.

Vincenzo lies in bed with a gun aimed at his head.

Oh, not again.

"I...I..can...can't convince him," Zara sputters out.  She looks to Liam, her last line of defense.  "Convince him.  Please.  Save him for me."

Liam leans toward Dominic, lowering his voice before he speaks.  "Get her out of here."

"Are you going to stop him?"

Liam exhales and his shoulder tense as he answers truthfully.  "I'm going to try."  Silent tears roll down Vincenzo's cheek as the gun in his hand shakes.  My stomach tightens at the look Liam shoots Dom.  "I'm going to do all I can, but I can't promise that I'll save him."

Without another word, Dominic approaches Zara and gently wraps her in a hug.  He whispers words of comfort in her ear as he passes us, exiting the room without a fight from her.  Carmen touches my arm and mouths a good luck before following Dom and Zara.

There's a lack of confidence in Liam's eyes as he looks to me, unsure.  This wasn't just him deciding between which card to put down in a game of Uno, but this was him trying to determine what to say to keep Vince from ending his life.  I don't think my weary smile helps.

"You should be at your party," Liam states, trying to draw the corner of his lips up into a smile.

"Your mom doesn't understand."  Vincenzo's voice is weak, lacking the fire, the fight, behind it.  "Nobody truly understands."

Liam urges him on. "Help us understand."

Using his free hand, Vince runs his palm down his face, wiping away as many tears as he can.  They continue falling.  "Thank God I don't have anything left to fight for because I don't have any fight left."

Liam steps forward, "Vince..."

"I deserve to die like this," he continues.  "I sent Rico in there, despite all the red flags, all the weird behavior, because I was intent on getting my revenge.  That revenge, that absolute hatred for Valentin blinded the obvious." There's another sob.  "I deserve to die the same way he did, maybe then I'll be able to feel what he felt."

I stood here as moral support for Liam, knowing he didn't want to do this alone.  Speaking is not something I planned, but I do it anyways.  "If this is just about Rico—"

"It's not just about Rico!"

Vince's shout forces me back a few steps.  There was that explosive anger that I've come to fear.

"Imagine losing everything, Liam," His shoulders begin to shake as hot tears continue to spill, racing down his cheeks. "Imagine losing all of this.  Think of all the minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years you've put into this family.  What would it be like to be inside of it as the walls came down?"

Liam is left speechless, as am I.

"The Russian's are still coming, and they've made it clear that they aren't out to kill me, but to make me suffer." Vincenzo takes a deep breath.  "I don't know how she feels about me, but I love your mother, Liam, and Valentin knows that.  I love her with all my heart and I'll be damned if she's killed because of her affiliation with a man like me.  I can't physically protect her," His eyes fall to his legs, then to us, "but if I end my life, her safety will be sure."

"You can't make a dead man suffer." I mumble in understanding of Vince's logic.

Liam ignores me and Vincenzo's proclamation of love.  "Don't worry about my mother.  I've got her.  I'll protect her."

Vince humorously chuckles through his tears.  Admiration and respect washes over his face as he studies Liam.  "I'm not just worried about your mother's safety, Liam.  I'm worried about the ones you love.  I'm worried about Rosie, about Faith, Dominic, even Carmen.  I'm..." His eyes dart away from us as he admits something surprising. "I'm scared that everything Michael built, that everything you accomplished, that everyone you love, will fall because of me."

Liam shakes his head.  "Nothing that happens from this moment on is your fault, Vince.  I'm twenty-nine years old, I'm going to be thirty in January, I am far past the age of blaming others for my decisions.  I, not you, am putting everything on the line to fight theses bastards back and if I lose this goddamn empire by making a statement to these scary ass white people, then so be it."

"I told Faith this and I'm going to tell you." Vincenzo pauses, "Rico does not deserve avenging; not the Rico I sent."

"I'm not just doing this because of Rico," Liam honestly admits.  "I'm a Luciano.  For as long as I can remember, this family has been the face of one of the most well-known criminal organizations in the world.  How dare I, as its king, stand back and watch as a foreign threat takes out one of our own.  I plan on taking out the Rostov's as a testament to the generations of kings that will follow in our footsteps, as proof to those that reign now, and as proof to every outside threat that you do not mess with La Cosa Nostra."

Vincenzo's finger caresses the trigger as I approach on the opposite side.

Liam sighs.  "I won't lie.  A part of me is doing this for Rico, and you.  You were a friend to my father, but you're more than just a friend to me."  He reaches forward, his hand just inches from Vincenzo's gun.  "I don't think I could stand watching another father figure of mine die."

Vince's grip loosens just enough for Liam to ease the gun out of his grasp.  The relief is obvious on Liam's face as he shoots me a thankful look.  I release a breath as he begins to stride out the room.

"Your father would be proud," Vince calls out.  "You're a good kid."

Liam stops and turns as he unloads Vincenzo's handgun.

"And you're worth fighting for."

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

a/n: liam and vincenzo are the kings we don't deserve tbH i love them both sm

i'm soOo sorry for how long it took me to write this chapter, cross your fingers & toes and pray it doesn't take this long for chapter 5!!! i'm still trying to balance my work schedule + summer plans + writing and as you can tell, i'm failing epically—

do you still dislike Austin?

how do you feel about Vince admitting his love for Zara? You think she feels the same way?

p.s. thank you for the 17.5k on wattpad!! my goal for 2018 was the reach 20k?? so fingers crossed and 60.8K reads on potere?! That's incredible omg