viii | for the rest of eternity

a/n: this chapter took incredibly long for absolutely no reason at all – actually, school is still kicking my ass but at least it's almost winter break...kind of...I'm reaching.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Gabriel. His hands are large, his eyes are brown, and he's a cutie. My hand is still in his as he gently shakes it in greeting. Our eyes meet for only a second before he lowers his gaze to his feet, unable to hold eye contact. Pulling his hand from mine, he drags his palm along his pants, trying to scrub away any trace of our hands touching. He doesn't look up long enough to witness the semi-offended look I give him.

"My family has always called me Gabe, even when I told them not to."

"Why?" I wonder, "You don't like it?"

His attention rises to me and he shakes his head. "I don't see why they feel the need to take away the only thing that—" Gabriel's eyes focus in on me as his lips clamp shut, as if he just realized he's spoken more words in that one sentence than any other time tonight. His gaze slowly grows distant and although it appears that he's looking at me, I can tell he's looking through me instead.

I can tell he's thinking and thinking hard. His thick, dark-brown eyebrows press together for a moment as his lips slightly part in thought.

Me speaking draws Gabe back from wherever his thoughts had taken him. "They? Your parents?"

As Gabriel swings his body away from mine, I shift in my seat. Nathaniel has mentioned their parents only a handful of times in conversation, and the majority of those times have never been positive.

With one hand griping the edge of the marble, he raises his right arm and runs the palm of his hand over the buzz style of his haircut. He moves slowly as each and every single strand of his dark hair bristles as his large palm moves over them. A shadow of an emotion that resembles sadness briefly washes over his features; and as quickly as it appears, it's gone.

"Doesn't even let me grow out my hair," Gabe mumbles.

"You know," I rest my elbow on the counter and lean over, using my hand to prop my head up as I stare Gabriel down. It takes a few lengthy, quiet, and awkward seconds before he lifts his eyes to mine. "I'm probably completely out of line when I say this, but I saw the way you let your brother talk to you at our party. And I know your dad is your...well, dad, but it's your life. Live it whatever way you want, and if that means growing your hair out to your waist, then so be it."

Gabe doesn't verbally respond, instead, he pretends to flick long hair over his shoulder.

My smile and eventual laughter cause his own. His chuckle is deep, the exact opposite of mine. His smile is wide and I'm not surprised that his teeth are pretty close to perfect. I do notice the dimple on the right side of his cheek that appears as his smile grows.

Our laughter fades, sending the apartment spiraling into silence. Occasionally, you can hear the wind hit the windows as it picks up and fades in intensity. A couple cars honk in the distance and the sound of an ambulance whisking through the street outside comes and goes. Gabe clears his throat and reaches for his water bottle.

"He causes most of my anxiety and he doesn't even know it."

"Who? Nate?"

Gabriel nods. "He loves people. He loves talking to people and meeting people, and I hate it. He doesn't understand, he can't understand why I would rather lock myself in my room than interact with other people." He spins completely around on the stool, now facing the rest of the still and quiet apartment. His knees shake, and silently, I watch as he rests a palm on them, forcing the movement to stop.

"Does talking to me make you nervous?"

"Yeah," He let's out a breath, like he can't believe I poised the question. "You're beautiful," He finishes without much thought. A smile creeps up on my face as his eyes widen. From the looks of it, he didn't mean to say that aloud. "You're...not beautiful. I mean—you're ugly. I mean, you're not ugly, you're okay." He repeatedly nods. "You're...." Gabe quickly shoots me a look, before turning away. "You're...adequate."

"I'll take that as a yes."

He breaks out in a brief smile, still refusing to meet my eyes.

"My anxiety's been like this since I was little, and it's getting worse, not better. I get panic attacks just being around people – large groups, small groups..."

"Is that why you and Nate left our party early?"

He nods, confirming what I already believed. After taking the gun away from Vincenzo that evening, Liam and I had returned to our partygoers, only to find Nathaniel and Gabe gone. I quietly respond with an, "Oh."

Gabriel's lips part as he begins to say something else, only to pause, his head tilting slightly. His eyes close and a wave of emotion washes over his face; one resembling sadness. His eyes open and the look is gone. "He's here."

I frown. "Wh—"

He slides off the stool, takes a step, and turns back to look at me. Gabe casts his eyes to the floor as soon as I look up. He lifts a hand in an awkward, oddly-timed wave before scurrying out the main room and down a hallway.

Not even a moment after he's gone, the door opens. Nathaniel pushes himself in with a backpack slung over his shoulder and a box of pizza in his arms. He greets me with a warm smile as he uses his foot to shut the door behind him.

"Hey!" The apartment suddenly fills with noise. Between Nate slamming the door, dropping the box of pizza on the counter, fumbling with his keys, cellphone, and resting his backpack on the ground, the comfortable silence that resonated around the place is long gone. I greet him with a smile and wave of my own as he heads over to me, arms spread wide for a hug.

I comply.

Nathaniel pulls back, a genuine look of worry crossing his face. "Were you crying?"

"Yeah," I brush it off like it's nothing, and wipe underneath my eye, making sure all the tears are gone. "I was just talking to your brother. I'm fine."

Nate's frown persists. "Did he make you cry?"

"No!" I reach out and grab at his leather jacket, pulling him before he can take a step in the direction his brother ran off in. Nathaniel stumbles back towards me as I look up at him from my position on the stool, a smile masking the glimmer of unfallen tears in my eyes. "I'm fine, Nate. Gabe didn't do anything, we just talked."

"What about?" He drops to the stool closest the me and our knees brush. I let go of his jacket and let my hands drop to my lap.

I wave my hand, dismissively. "Just about me, a little, and him. Nothing special."

Nathaniel pauses, deep in thought. His tongue glides along his lips as he eyes the dark hallway, the same one Gabe had disappeared down just a few short moments before. Clearing his throat, Nate turns back to me and lowers his voice.

"You shouldn't..." He releases a hesitant breath.

"He just talked about his anxiety," I let out a nervous laugh. "And I talked about something that was bothering me."

"Let me guess," Nathaniel starts, "He gave you his entire anxiety-sob-story?"

"He just said that he gets panic attacks whenever he's around people—"

"Did he tell you why?" Nate continues, an eyebrow raised. "It wasn't because he was bullied around school, it's because he was hardly in school – let alone around people – when we were younger." His voice drops in volume and he leans forward, speaking just above a whisper. "My mom and dad always thought something was wrong with him, that something was off, so he spent more time in hospitals, than in schools. He talked more with psych doctors than with kids his age."

My eyebrows twitch. "That doesn't change my opinion of him. He seems like a nice guy."

"I'm not trying to change your opinion of him," He responds defensively. "I'm just trying to warn you." Nate stands and extends his hands to me. I take them as he pulls us both to our feet. With a hold of my forearm, he begins to lead me to the couch. "Gabe's a good guy, but he isn't someone you should trust. Just, take my word on it, okay?" I don't have time to respond as Nate presses forward. "Do you still want to talk about whatever was bothering you earlier?"

He sits us down on the plush sofa, ready to listen. He doesn't notice my attention drift from him, for only a second, to Gabriel, who stands at the end of the hallway. I can't make out a facial expression, or a look, but just by his body language, I can tell he's been standing there long enough. He heard what his brother said about him.

Wiping at his face, Gabriel slinks away, appearing sadder than I had ever seen him.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The sun is on the rise as I pull up in our driveway the next morning. I'm running on two hours of sleep, which I spent on Nathaniel's couch. By the time I woke up, I had three missed calls and thirteen unread messages from Liam. To put it short, I was in hot water, which explains why my stomach is currently growling. At the sight of Liam's worry, I rushed out my friend's place with nothing but a thank you, despite there being waffles and eggs on the kitchen table, ready to be devoured.

I push my way through the front doors, bracing for something. I'm not sure what I expect to hear. Crying is something I anticipated, but it's not exactly what I expected.

Rosalie sits on the floor, clutching the straps of her backpack. She sits with her back pressed against the wall and her knees pulled to her chest, sobbing quietly. I shut the door behind me and immediately drop to my knees, concern filling my voice and washing over my features.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" I rest a gentle hand on her shoulder as it shakes. Tears stream down her face as she restrains from wiping them away. "Rosie—"

"L...Lia...Liam said that he would take me to school and I got ready, but now I'm late because he's busy yelling at uncle Dom." She shudders through her tears. "Then I went to get him and they shoved me and—" The little girl rolls up the sleeve on her arm, showing off a patch of skin that's slowly tinting a bruise color.

I let my hand brush along her forming bruise as I carefully watch for a reaction; a wince, grimace, anything that would indicate she's in serious pain. I get nothing. She'll be okay.

"Where's Zara? Carmen?"

Rosie shrugs.

"Veleno?"

"He went to go kill somebody."

My eyes widen. "Rosie!"

To my surprise, Rosie shoots to her feet, grasping her backpack with newfound strength. Her knuckles fade to a pale shade. "Stop it! Stop trying to sugarcoat everything! I know Liam kills people! I know uncle Rico killed people! I know uncle V kills people! Stop treating me like a fucking baby!"

I'm caught speechless for all of a second. I grab her arm, yanking her closer to me. "Watch your language, child."

She rips herself from my grasp, her eyes narrowing. "What are you going to do about it? Tell my mom?"

My mouth parts, and nothing comes out. I carefully watch as a girl that look just like Rosalie march out the door, barking an order about me taking her to school. She shuts the door with force; but I'm not sure if the walls are shaking because of that, or the f-bomb she just dropped while looking me dead in the eye.

Shouts echo down the stairwell, drawing my attention away from the door. I jog up the stairs, following the sound of the yelling. I push Dominic's bedroom door open without hesitation, letting him and Liam fall within my sight. They're pressed together, grappling and fighting over a pill bottle.

Their muscles bulge as they try to yank the bottle from one another, their teeth grinding as they overpower each other. A vein in Dom's neck rises as sweat dots his temple.

"Give them back."

"Just admit it already," Liam shouts back.

"Give them back!" Dominic elbows Liam, knocking him off balance, sending him stumbling to the side. He turns, using his body to shield the object in his hands as he tries to unscrew the cap. His hands are shaking and he's sweating. I swear he doesn't even look stable on his own two feet.

Liam and I share a worried look.

In a soft, calm voice, Liam takes a step towards his friend. "Dominic..."

"I-I'm...I'll be—" Dom curses as he rips the cap from the bottle, sending the container and its contents to the floor. Pills scatter to the floor and bounce around our feet. Dominic curses as he falls to his knees, scurrying to get the medicine back where it belongs.

Liam's eyebrows crease together as he shakes his head. "Just admit it."

Those three words send Dominic toppling over the edge. He rises to his feet faster than I had ever seen him move. He disregards the pills as his fists clench and his anger transforms his features. I flinch as Dom lunges for Liam, wanting nothing more than to step in between the two of them. I want to protect him.

"I'm addicted!" Dominic shoves Liam with all his might. Liam isn't shocked. He's known, or at least suspected. "Are you happy now? Are you glad that I admitted it?"

I make a move towards them, only to watch Liam wave his hand at me, ordering I stay right where I am. He's got it handled.

Dom turns, easing his head into his hands. Silent seconds pass as his shoulders begin to gently shake. By the time he lifts his head, his eyes are red, his cheeks stained with tears. He lets out a shaky breath as his eyes fall to the little white pills that litter the floor.

"I'm addicted to my pain medication," He finally breathes out. His hands continue to shake until he squeezes them in fists, shoving them both in the pockets of his sweat pants.

I frown. "Where did you get the medication?"

Without much thought, Dom rests his hand over the area in which he got shot last year.

"Dominic, you got shot over a year ago—"

"I know how long it's been, Faith!"

I take a step back at the darkening tone in his voice.

"Those meds are for physical pain," I offer up quietly, "Not emotional."

The look in Dominic's eyes is enough to break me. He turns away. "The line between physical and emotional pain has long been blurred for me. I don't know which is which anymore."

Liam drops his weight on Dominic's mattress. It groans and squeaks underneath him, filling the quiet void the room has fallen into. Liam huffs out a breath as he lifts his gaze, curiously eyeing Dom's back. His voice is soft, gentle even.

"I thought you going back home to Florida would be a good thing."

"I thought so too," Dominic takes a step back, lining us both in his sights. I let my eyes hover over his bare chest. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that he's lost weight, including the definition in his shoulders. "I thought so too, I just...I didn't realize that when Rose died...When I say I left, Liam, I left—"

"I know," Liam nods in remembrance.

"—I left the hospital and came straight to you, so when I go back home and..." His head shakes as he's forced to relieve memories that he's suppressed for so long. You can tell it pains him to even think about them; he winces as his eyes fill with tears. If his hands weren't shoved deep into his pockets, I'm sure the intensity of their shaking would increase. "I got home and everything was exactly the way we left it."

"I just...I could've sworn my mom had gone in there and cleaned but everything was exactly the way I left it over...over a year ago and I—" Dominic clenches his jaw. "Her pillow, the glass of water by her bed, her toothbrush, our pictures..." He looks between the both of us as tears skate down his cheeks. "That was the first time I abused my medication; right there, on the floor of our bedroom."

"Dom..." I reach for his arm, wanting nothing more than to pull him close, to ease whatever pain I can.

"I can't sleep without them. I can't get out of bed without taking them. I can't do anything without them, I'm completely and utterly reliant on them." He closes his eyes and whispers, "I'm addicted."

Liam clears his throat, watching as I pull Dominic close and cling to his arm. "You should've called me, Dom. You should've come back."

"I thought going back would help me heal, not deepen the wound." Dom shakes his head. "There was nothing for me back here. I gave up my job."

"I would've given it back to you." At Dom's unbelieving expression, Liam stands. "Do you know how long it took me to find someone that I remotely trusted? I chose Austin out of sheer desperation! I can't run this by myself."

Dominic throws his hands up. "Well I didn't. Now, not only do I not have my wife, or my brother, I don't even have a job." He lowers himself to his knees, beginning to clean up the floor. "Maybe these pills aren't as bad as I thought, if I take enough—"

"You need help," I mutter.

Dominic leans back, eyeing me from beneath his dark eyelashes. "No, I don't."

"She's right," Liam backs me up with ease, "You need more than just help. You need therapy."

"Well I'm sorry to break it to you, but I have about as much money as Vince does to his name." Dominic shares a look between the two of us before continuing to drop the pills back in their container, as if they haven't been on the floor for the past ten minutes.

Liam frowns. "I gave you money before you left."

"Drug habits aren't cheap," is all Dominic mutters as he screws the cap back on, gently shaking the medication in the bottle. He stands.

"Then good thing it won't be coming out of your pocket," Liam retorts. Dom's mouth parts, trying to will himself to say anything to keep Liam from running with his forming idea. "I'm sending you somewhere to get help. Real, professional help—"

Dom tosses the pills to his bed as he gets up in Liam's face, his cheeks flushing red from anger. "If you think for one goddamn second that I'm going to sit in a fucking room with a fucking doctor talking about my fucking problems while the men who killed – who murdered my little brother are still out there then you've lost your fucking mind."

Their chests touch as Dominic closes the gap between them, seething at Liam's proposition. Liam doesn't flinch, hardly even blinking as he leans his head back.

When Liam speaks, his voice is low, at a volume that represents a whisper. "I refuse, I absolutely refuse to wake up one morning and find you dead, and if the only way to prevent that is to send you away, then I'm willing to do it. I'd be okay with temporarily losing one soldier, than losing him forever." Dominic breaks eye contact by looking over at me. I send him an encouraging smile.

I step up beside Liam and loop my arm in his. I rest my head on his bicep. "When you come back, you could have your job back."

Dominic looks at Liam for confirmation, and I know he backs my words. He always does.

Dom's eyes land on the bed, more specifically, the pills he's currently craving. "I'll get help," He finally says after contemplation. Looking back to us, Dom nods. "I'll get help once we beat this. Once we take out Valentin and avenge Rico's death, I'll take you up on that and I'll go get professional help – wherever you want to send me."

Liam nods in agreement. "I'll accept that under one condition." I let go of his arm as he pulls away to lean over the bed and take the pills into his possession. He gives the bottle a gentle shake, forcing Dominic's gaze to it. "I know this isn't the only bottle you have, so you give them to me, and I'll hold them for now." The hesitation in Dom's eyes is obvious. "You come to me when you feel the urge and we'll work from there."

"I don't know..."

"Dominic, at least I'll be able to control your intake. You're not going to like it, and it's going to suck, but I might be saving your life by doing this," Liam response is honest, right from the heart."

Dom's "fine," is almost incoherent. He heads to the dresser and tugs it open, digging his hands deep inside the drawers. He pulls back with five similar looking medicine bottles in hand, all filled to the brim. Each bottle had its information messily scratched off, now unreadable to the naked eye. One last bottle remains to make the transition from Dom's hand to Liam's. They both look up at his hesitation.

"I told you my secret," Dominic says, "So now it's time you tell Faith yours."

An angry look passes Dom's eyes as he shoves the last bottle towards Liam with enough force to push someone back. Liam's hand wraps tightly around the medication; a far tighter grip than needed. In confusion, I look up at him, only see his right eye twitch.

My stomach does a few flips. "Tell me what?"

Liam shrugs my hand off his arm as he steps forward, causing Dom to take one in the other direction. He slides between the both of us, headed for the door. Liam doesn't look me in the eye as I follow him towards the door, my curiosity peaked.

"I hear the words of an addict are unreliable."

I catch the glare Dominic shoots his ex-boss as the door shuts behind me, leaving Liam and I alone in the hall.

"What did he mean by that?" I swing around Liam before he can make a quick escape. I rest my chin against his chest as I tilt my head back and throw my arms around his waist. His eyes scan the quiet hall upstairs before lowering his gaze to mine. The nervous, yet beautiful smile he sends me eases the uncomfortable feeling that's settled in the pit of my stomach.

"Nothing," He assures me in a calming breath. I let out a peaceful sigh as his hands entangle themselves in my hair, arching my head back even more. My eyelids flutter closed as his lips brush along my neck, leaving a trail of unimaginably light kisses. His lips run up my jaw, before he leaves a firm kiss to my cheek, then my temple. His hot breath hits my forehead as he throws his arms around me and tugs. "Every secret I've ever had is out in the open. Everything I ever hid from you, you know now. I'm not hiding anything from you, my love."

I don't want to let go, so instead of releasing Liam, I hold on tighter. "I don't want to hide anything from you either," I admit. "Last night, I—"

"Ignored all of my phone calls and text messages?" I thought Liam would be upset, but as he forcefully pulls me from him, only to shoot me a calming smile, I laugh. "Faith, I get you want space, but I don't think you understand—I almost sent the cavalry to look for you."

"Thank God you didn't. I would be so embarrassed if a hundred soldiers showed up at Nate's apartment."

Liam makes a face at the name of my friend. He tries to hide it, but not before I catch the expression.

"That's where I was last night," I lift my hands in defense, "But nothing happened!" Liam's eyes lower, and I feel the need to continue. "In all honesty, you don't have to worry, you're the only guy I want in me." I blink. "And by in me, I mean that, in the most..." The smirk spreading Liam's lips apart is enough to make me blush. "Innocent way... Why do I sound like Steven?"

Thankfully, Liam ignores my rant. "I never assumed anything happened between you two, I just..." Air exits his nose as he looks over my shoulder, hoping to find the words he's searching for behind me. "I don't like your friend Nathaniel. He...rubs me the wrong way."

I grab a fistful of Liam's shirt in either hand, lower my voice, and press my body against his with a laugh. "Do I rub you the right way?"

"Faith."

"Sorry."

I let him go, but I do manage to catch his sly smile before it disappears.

"I know you don't have a lot of friends and I know that bothers you sometimes, so I don't feel as though I'm in a position to tell you who to not be friends with," Liam inhales and exhales deeply as he prepares to finish, "Just be careful, and next time you decide to wander off, please tell me."

"Yes, Sir."

The muscle in Liam's jaw ticks as he makes a noise through closed teeth. Sending me a tight smile, he nods and angles his body in the direction of the stairs. My eyes widen, and I grab his arm, pulling him back to me before he can continue about his day.

"Oh my God. We've been dating for over a year and I think I finally figured it out." I wipe an imaginary tear from the corner of my eye as I gather his undivided attention. "You have a Sir kink."

Without a word, Liam walks off, only to stop before taking his first step down the stairs. I watch with a smile on my face as he backtracks. He rests his palm on the side of my neck, forcefully yanking me over to him. I can feel his hand through my clothes, his fingers gripping my waist with an intensity I haven't felt in months.

"By the way," His lips travel from my ear to my mouth, hovering in a teasing manner before me. It's just enough that I can feel him, just enough to leave me wanting more. His hand travels from my neck to the base of my throat, before he tightens his grip just below my jaw. I'm at his mercy as he tilts my head back. My knees buckle as his beautiful brown eyes darken in desire. "You don't rub me hard enough."

The kiss we share is intense enough to take my breath away.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Liam promises to make time for me later, to answer the questions I told him that I have. I'm curious about how he spotted Dominic's issue, along with discussing Rosalie and my concern for her. His second departure kiss is lighter than the first one and watching him descend the stairs is hard. For one day, I wanted nothing but the hold him – rather then constantly letting him go.

Oh shit.

On cue, Rosalie marches up the stairs past her brother. He doesn't stop, continuing his journey down the steps. He's forgotten about her, as did I for a moment. Rosie's bag trails behind her as she drags her feet to the top of the stairwell. Her head is held low, her cheeks wet with tears.

"I—" She walks by me without a word, her sniffling says it all. My stomach twists in a sickening knot as guilt washes over me like an unforgiving ocean wave. I meant to return and take her to school, but Dominic's conversation, along with what Liam and I discussed shortly after made me forget about that; about her. "I can still take you to school, Rosie. It isn't too—"

She stops and turns around in one fluid motion, looking exhausted. Her voice is soft, laced with hurt, and on the verge of cracking.

"Do you want to know why I loved uncle Rico so much?"

"Rosie..."

"Michael didn't like me. He never wanted me. He only married my mom because he wanted to make Ms. Zara jealous, and mom only liked him because he had money. They didn't want me, and Liam was always gone." The little girl tugs her bottom lip into her mouth to keep it from shaking. "Then uncle Rico showed up and for the first time, I had a friend."

As if I couldn't feel any worse...

Rosalie takes a step in the direction of her bedroom before turning back. "He made me feel unforgettable. He never forgot about me, and I'll never forget about him."

"Rosie," I move toward her, "I'm sorry, okay? I'll take you—"

"Stop apologizing!" Her face flushes red as her voice deepens. She throws her backpack down and stomps her foot as her eyes narrow to slits. Rosie steps back, embarrassed at her sudden outburst. Without another word, she scrambles for her belongings before rushing into her room and shutting the door.

Her sobs echo from behind the door just a few seconds later.

I know she wouldn't want me to join her, so I walk in the other direction, letting the sound of her cries fade. I curse at myself as I enter our bedroom, headed for the nightstand on my side of the bed. I pull it open, blinding reaching for my personalized weapon. I trap my gun between the waistband of my pants, using my shirt to cover the rest of it. I backtrack and head out the room, my destination already pre-determined.

I have a lot on my mind, but only one thing is in the forefront; Vincenzo. I tried to forget what Steven said in the car yesterday and I know I should, but I can't. I simply can't. Vincenzo may be planning to hurt the man I love, the family I've grown close to, as well as myself. I refuse to let a potential threat catch us off guard. Liam may not be ready for it, but I will be.

A part of me wants to tell Liam about Steven's theory, but with his mind preoccupied with Dominic and the mess of other daily deeds a Don is required to do, I thought to hold off. Then I thought about dealing with it myself by talking to Vince, one on one. If I still sense a threat after our conversation, then I'll bring it up to Liam as quickly as possible. If not, I'll let Steven's theory die. Sensible, right?

Whether Steven's theory about Vincenzo is correct, I'll soon find out, but what he was spot on about, was Vincenzo reputation in Detroit. He was known as the man you do not mess with, the one you don't even question about crossing. My chest tightens just being in the room of a man who once practically ran Detroit's crime.

Then I see his uncharacteristically short hair, and the casts on both legs. My eyes land on the chair that's been brought to the edge of his bed, where Zara sits from the moment she returns from work till she leaves in the morning. Vince is sleep; his eyes are closed, his lips slightly parted. His eyebrows crease together as he jerks, frightened by something.

He whimpers. It's soft, barely audible, but enough to make me second guess what I'm doing.

I go to leave, but then I stop. If what Steven believes is true, then this is exactly what Vince wants us to think. He wants us to believe that he's some disabled, heart-broken individual when this was his plan all along.

I make my way to the side of Vince's bed and ease myself into the seat as he stirs. He rolls his head to his left and opens his eyes, greeting me with a tight-lipped smile. "Hi."

"Hey."

His arms reach out to either side as he uses his strength to resituate his body on the mattress. I'm drawn to the ink that decorates his arms, swirling in beautiful, eye-capturing patterns. Vince's raspy voice draws me back to the present. "Did Zara tell you to check on me? She's always worrying. I told her I was—" He notices me shaking my head and abruptly stops.

I don't feel like beating around the bush today. "I wanted to talk to you."

Vince's dark brown eyes immediately dart to the closed bedroom door, then back to me. He looks me up and down, licks his lips, and leans back. "Talk then."

My mouth parts, and I hesitate. He's staring right at me, right down my throat. I'm sitting just within arms range of a man who once had an entire city at his beck and call; who had police officers so frightened that they would do what he asked without question, who would free whoever he requested, and stay away from run-down neighborhoods that he practically owned.

I lean back a little bit. "How are you doing?"

Vince doesn't bite. "You didn't come here to ask me that, Faith. You couldn't give two shits about how I was doing, considering you hardly visit me."

"Because I'm angry at you," I answer him truthfully and honestly. "I'm angry at you because you had no business sending Rico to Russia knowing damn well he wasn't feeling right! He might've shot himself in the head, but that doesn't stop me from saying that the Russian's murdered him. He was murdered, and it's your fault too."

As I place the blame on him, Vince looks away.

"I know." His voice is calm, in a scary way. "So, when you get your revenge on the Russians, be sure to bring your 9 mill back here and take that anger out on me."

I let out a breath, sighing deeply. Feeling a tad more confident, I scoot forward and redirect the conversation. "Michael Luciano."

A rare smile begins to creep on the corner of Vince's face as looks at me. "What about him?"

"He left a video when he died."

"That's sweet, hopefully it wasn't a porno."

"He mentioned you."

"I'm honored."

"You tried to take his kingdom from him once, so what's to say that you won't do the same to Liam?"

Vincenzo seems caught off guard at my question; either he wasn't expecting it, or he didn't have a pre-planned sarcastic response at the ready. His lips press together in a fine line as his head shakes from side to side. He doesn't respond.

"Not very talkative now, are you?" I cock my head to the side, watching him closely. "People are beginning to talk, Vince, and I can't help but entertain their ideas that all of this – everything with the Russians is just a meaningless distraction to a threat far larger than any of us are prepared for."

A "Hah!" erupts from Vincenzo's throat. "You think I'm the threat?"

I rise to my feet. "I think the man who pinned me up against a wall and looked me dead in the eye, threatening to switch his help mission to a takeover is! I think the man who took that innocent little boy and transformed him into someone he didn't even recognize is! I think the man whose ended lives and tortured innocent people is! I think the man who tried to overthrow Michael Luciano and take his empire right out from under him is a threat!"

Vincenzo blinks. "Michael Luciano was a murderer, a liar, a thief, a con and you're going to just, what, believe him based on a video he made?"

I lower myself into the seat, setting my voice to a tone and volume that matches his. "Are you saying it isn't true?"

He looks away and I have my answer.

"That's what I thought." I settle myself into my seat with a forced smile. "Michael said you would come after the Luciano empire again. He said you'd find your way inside, that we wouldn't know you had control of it until it all came crumbling down." I motion towards the bed he lies in. "You've found your way inside, so what's stopping you from trying again?"

"Can I ask a question now?" I nod as Vince runs a hand down the side of his face. "In that video, did Michael tell you why I came for him?"

"No."

"Do you know the three commandments, per say, of the Italian mafia?"

I think about it. "Power? Honor?"

"And loyalty," He confirms, "Which is what Michael broke when he ordered the hit on the woman who bore his child. If Michael Luciano was so ill-tempered that he could murder the mother of his son and be okay with it, then what else would he do to those that he was supposedly loyal to?"

I let Vince's words sink in as he talks.

"The Council, all the Dons of the most powerfully ranked families got together – without him, of course, and we discussed what we thought should be his punishment. Taking Michael off his throne was what we discussed, and because of our close natured relationship, I was voted to be the one to do it."

"You didn't succeed," I mutter the obvious.

"And our relationship was never quite the same after that."

"I wonder why."

"I'm a horrible person, but I don't want to take anything from Liam, especially not his crown. The longer I sit here, the more I convince myself that I never want to wear one again." Vince glances down, his eyes skimming the ink etched into his knuckles. "I'm sick, demented, far past the need for psychological help, but I would never purposely put myself in the position I found myself in the night the Russians came. The night the walls shook. The night the diamonds fell from my crown. The night I lost complete and utter control—"

I wait for the tears that I can hear coming, but none fall.

"Liam has been nothing but a good business partner and a reasonable young man from the moment I met him, he has never given me a reason to turn my back on him." Vince looks up, "And even if he did I wouldn't, because I already crossed Federico once when I took Carmen from him. How dare I take a man he considered a brother away from him too?"

"You still think this was my genius, master plan?" Vincenzo continues, "To pair up with a man who murdered the woman I loved and my child, to take down Liam? Do you think I staged the night of the attack? Do you think I slipped Valentin's men a twenty and told them to do me a favor and break both legs? We both know that Rico would've never gone alone with this plan, so, you think I had my own son's blood spilt?"

"I..."

"Can I see the gun that you're trying so desperately to hide?"

I can feel my cheeks turn red and I don't even try to deny it. I stand, shifting as close to the bed as I can while I retrieve my weapon. I keep my grasp firm, not wanting him to snatch it. He reaches up, grabs it, and draws the barrel to his temple. His eyes close and for just a second, he looks calmer than I've ever seen him. Almost, dare I say, at peace.

"If you don't believe me," His voice is low, his words barely making it past his lips. "Pull the trigger. It'll ease your conscious, and it'll make me happy. You can walk out this room never having to worry about my motives again." Chills run down my spine as the tips of his fingers brush against my hand. They're cold. "And for the first time since I was a little boy, I'll be able to lay head in my mother's lap, where I hope I can stay for the rest of eternity."

I try to pull the gun away, but he's holding on to it like one would hold on to a dream they never want to forget.

"You're assuming that you and your mother both end up in the same place."

Vince lets out a breath, a laugh. He knows they won't. "A man can only dream."

"Too bad for you then," I yank the weapon away, watching as Vince's hands fall. "I believe you."

He rests his head back on his pillows, grunts, and shuts his eyes.

I head for the door, my head still spinning. Something Vince said repeats itself in my head and I look to him, eyebrows touching. "Did you mean that?" He doesn't open his eyes, but I know he's listening. "You don't want to wear a crown again? Is that...is that really how you want your legacy to end?"

Vince's eyes open and my stomach drops. I want nothing more than to see the fight, determination, and need for control in his eyes, but again, I'm disappointed. It's gone. It's all gone. Valentin didn't just strip everything from Vincenzo, but so did the doctors who cut his hair. Like Sampson in the Bible, it took away all his strength.

Vince takes his time preparing what he has to say next and what he says breaks my heart.

"I'm sorry, Faith, but I don't have the strength to fight for a different ending."

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Liam is pacing in our room by the time I return, and with his back facing the door, he doesn't see me waltz in. He has a hand on his hip, the other pinning his phone to his ear. I tiptoe over to the nightstand and slide my gun inside before he can turn around and give me that questioning look of his; where one eyebrow lifts higher than the other, causing one side of his mouth to rise as well.

"—I understand, Camilla." Curiosity got the better of me at the sound of another woman's name. I step away from my nightstand and listen intently. "—Yes, yes, I'm well aware that Rosalie may have to repeat fourth grade if she doesn't—I know her attendance hasn't been...Mrs. Wilson—you don't understand, I don't have the time for a parent-teacher conferen—yes, yes I am, technically, her legal guard—today? Fine, yes, 4 is great. I'll be there."

Even from here, I can see how tense Liam's shoulder get by the time he ends the call. He drops his head in his hand, using his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. I round the bed and reach his side before he looks up. I throw my arms around his waist and feel him tense at my touch.

"Look at you," I tease, "Being a father figure and shit."

He tries to suppress a smile. "Shut up."

"It's hot."

Despite the stress, his smile shines through as he says my name in a warning manner. "Faith..."

"I just wanted to make you smile." I pat his stomach, "You okay?"

"I was," Liam slowly walks backward as I lead him towards the bed. His hands find my waist as he drops to the corner of the bed and spreads his legs, letting me settle between them. He nuzzles his face into my stomach, mumbling against the fabric of my shirt, "Now I have a headache."

Liam lets me go as I head to the master bathroom. I shut the door just enough to be able to access the medicine cabinet behind it. I grab a bottle of Advil and head out the bathroom, but before I reach Liam, I manage to snag my plastic water bottle from my nightstand. By the time I reach him, the cap of the water bottle is unscrewed and a pill rests in my palm.

Liam throws his head back, swallowing the pill and chugging the water all in one go. He twists the cap on, tosses the bottle to the bed, and reaches for me again. "I would be better if I could just have one day with you. One day with no distractions, no emergencies, no...nothing."

"That would be—" I squeal as Liam spins out of our embrace. I turn around to face him as he positions himself behind me, bending down just long enough to hoist me up. "Let me go!" I hit his chest and to my surprise, he obeys; but instead of resting me down gently, he tosses me to the bed.

I'm laughing as I hit the mattress, but Liam pressing his body to mine keeps me from bouncing back up. He gives me a short, sweet kiss before rolling over and pulling me with him. I sling my arm over his abdomen and rest my head in the crook of his shoulder. I close my eyes at the scent of his aftershave.

The room is quiet, even peaceful as I focus on the beating of his heart and the rising and falling of his chest. I absentmindedly play with the buttons on his dress-shirt as my hand roams over his chest. He tangles one hand in my hair as he uses the other to trap my hand against his chest, right over his heart.

"How did you know about Dominic?" I lean my head back as far as I can to look at him. I'm just met with a freshly shaved chin.

"He wasn't eating. He's lost weight. He's always fidgeting, always moody, along with a few other obvious signs."

"You know," I reach up, running my fingertips along the jewelry he has latched around his neck. I trail the cross-shaped necklace with my index finger as I think about what I'm going to say. "You forgot to take Rosie to school this morning..."

"Yeah, I realized that when she stomped past me on her way upstairs." Liam shifts and turns on his angle, appearing to hover over me. I let my hand fall to the mattress between us. "I was going to apologize, but I heard you talking to her and decided to wait."

"I'm worried about her."

"Me too."

"No, Liam," He frowns, obviously concerned at my slight hesitation. "I'm worried." His expression changes for the worst at the sound of my tone. "She uncharacteristically dropped the f-word in my face because she's tired of everyone treating her like a baby."

"Yeah, because she is a baby. She's my baby sister; whether she's nine or twenty-one," He defends.

"I know, I know," I lift my hands to his cheeks, smiling as he leans into my palm. "But she's tired of people treating her like she is one. She's tired of being...sheltered, I guess?"

Liam leans away and rests his head on a pillow. "She doesn't deserve this life, so I try to keep her as far from it as I can and if she doesn't like that, then too bad."

"I understand that, but how long do you think you can keep her from this life you live?" Liam rolls on to his back and stares up at the ceiling in thought at my question. "She's lost a father figure because of it. She's lost her mother, her uncle, and there's always that possibility that you...may not come home."

Liam exhales.

"I'm not saying you need to keep her up to date on every murder you cause, but I do believe it's time you sit down and talk to her and tell her everything she deserves to know. She's nine now; she's been asking questions since I first arrived here and you either ignore them or promise to answer them later, and by later, you mean never."

Liam rolls back on his side, convinced. "I'll talk to her sometime today or tomorrow."

With a hand on the side of his face, I lean forward and gently kiss him. "We can talk to her, if that would make you feel any better."

"I'm always my best when you're at my side."

My heart swells. "Do I have to come to the parent-teacher conference too?"

I'm just teasing, and Liam knows that, but at the sight of him poking his bottom lip out in a pout makes me laugh extremely loud. His chuckles mix with mine. I groan, playfully, "I guess I'll be there—" He cuts me off with a kiss, and it's only when I pull away can I finish, "—too."

His hand brushes along my cheek, drawing me back to him. He falls to his back as I position myself over him and lean down, brushing my lips against his. His breathing is uneven and jagged while he anticipates my next move. His hand moves to my thigh, which he grabs with a vice-like grip.

"Kiss me," he demands.

With a teasing smile on my lips, I lean back and wiggle my hips. "And what if I don—"

Liam leans up and grabs at my face, guiding his lips to mine in a desperate kiss. His hands rest on my jaw as he pulls away, staring at my lips. "That was an order."

The kiss only intensifies as Liam pulls me back down with him. His lips attach to my neck as I rest my head beside his. I shiver as his cold hands sneak up the back of my shirt; a contrast to the warmth that radiates from my skin. His hands roam up my back, over the strap of my bra, and down again.

I feel myself tense at the thought of where this is heading. I want to lay here and enjoy it, enjoy him but my thoughts aren't allowing it. Just weeks ago, I accused him of doing this – exactly this and more with other women because he wasn't coming home at reasonable times. I can't even count on one hand how many times I cried myself to sleep believing he was cheating on me, sharing a moment of intimacy with a woman when he'd barely looked my way in weeks.

"What's wrong?" Liam's tone switches on a dime as he draws my attention back to him.

I force a smile and shake my head. "Nothing, I'm fine."

I go to kiss him, but he angles his head away, rejecting it. "No, don't...lie, and don't kiss me if you feel like have to."

As I lean back, Liam takes his hand off me and rests them on the mattress. "I'm just...I'm just thinking."

Liam and I make eye contact as he sends me an encouraging smile. "I want you, but not if your heart isn't in it. I don't want you to think that you need to do this to...keep me." I move off Liam and sit beside him. He uses his elbows to keep himself propped up.

I yank my shirt back down and look over to him. "I'm sorry, I just..."

"You don't have to explain, only if you want too."

"It's not a big deal."

"If it's bothering you, my love, then yes it—"

"Oh my god." Carmen bursts through the bedroom doors, her hands hiding most of her face. Her breathing is heavy, her shoulders are shaking, and tears cascade down her cheeks. Liam pulls himself to his feet as I slide off the mattress to comfort her. "Oh my God, oh my God."

"Carmen, breathe, what's wrong?" I rest a hand on her arm and lean forward, listening for anything that might explain her behavior. All I get are more sobs.

Liam shoots me a confused look, and all I can do is shrug.

Veleno rushes through the doors next, his hands covered in blood. There's a stain on the sleeve of his shirt and collar, along with a smear streak across his cheek. Liam doesn't look nearly as shocked as I do.

"It's not mine!" He seems to be reassuring me more than Liam as he raises his hand in defense. "It's—forget the blood, okay? Did you get Austin's phone call?"

Liam shakes his head no.

Carmen sputters out two words that send a wave of nausea over me. "Rico's body—"

"What about Rico's body?" Liam gets the question out before I can. I'm glad he asks, because I'm not sure that I can speak. Liam's face pales when nobody answers. He takes a weary step back and drags himself to the edge of the bed. When he asks again, he sounds weak. "What about his body, Veleno?"

"According to Austin, three bodies appeared on the doorstep of the home this morning."

Carmen draws her face out of her hands to finish the sentence. "And they believe one is Rico."

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

a/n: wassup folks.

do you think Rosie may need professional help since it looks like all these deaths are starting to pile up on her?

do you believe or not believe Vincenzo?

is Liam hiding something?

anyways, shits about to pop off in the story (and in school so hah hah thanks for being so patient ily) but with thanksgiving break coming up, I'm hoping I can at least get another chapter out this month. If not, just know my semester is ending shortly and I'll make all of this waiting up to you I promise

oh hey don't forget to follow me here on wattpad, insta, and twitter (ya girl really wants to hit 1k before the year is out)

p.s. anybody share a november birthday with me?!