xxvi | take my hand

a/n: honestly, it's all downhill from here.

u toxic rico stans concern tf out of me.  stop hating on women that have done absolutely nothing. seek institutionalization and stop killing the vibe. i'll kill the mf off fr and laugh. this is a game to me.

••━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

I have seen everyone I love die.

Liam's arm found it's way around my neck as we slipped out into the warm night.  Our massive driveway was not only illuminated by the blindingly bright flood lights attached to our home, but by the lights of the three SUV's that followed us home from the party.

Liam and Tatum shared a few words before the well-dressed soldier turned to me.  He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a delicate jewelry box.  "This is from us—the family—to you."  It's rare to see a soldier nervous.  Tatum would never admit it, but one of my most developed skills would be the ability to read people.  I took the box, and he immediately slipped his hand inside the pocket of his dress pants, probably to stop them from shaking.  "Happy birthday, again," He turned, paused, then turned back to us.  "Oh, and, we all picked it out.  We think it would look good on you.  Especially, you know, when this idiot here finally decides to get on one knee—"

"Okay, that's enough—" Liam shoved Tatum into the vehicle, nearly shutting the door on the soldier's hand.  Liam leaned into the glass and mouthed something I couldn't predict, but whatever it was had Tatum and the driver bent over in tears.

"Do you know what it is?"  I tilted my head to look up at Liam.  I was met by a white smile and a perfectly trimmed beard. 

"No idea," He answered truthfully.  His fingers brushed against mine as he took the velvet box from my hands.  He eyed it carefully, before handing it back to me.  "A couple of the guys' came to me asking me what you liked.  I tried to help, but they sounded like they wanted to give you something personal.  Something to show how much they respect you, and how much you mean to them.  I let them choose whatever they felt was right."

"I wish I could spend more time with them, I feel like I barely know any of them."

Liam didn't acknowledge my comment, and I can only assume it's because he feels the same.  "They're good people."  He paused, stopped walking, then turned to me with a faint smile.  "You know, considering."

I lowered my voice to match his.  My faux Italian accent wasn't as smooth as his natural one.  "Considering."

His laugh warmed my soul, and his kiss touched my heart.  His hand found my waist and he did that thing I love.  He tightened his grip and tugged my hips to meet his.  My smile broke the kiss and his delayed it. 

I have seen everyone I love die, more than once.

"Liam!"  My laugh to his excessive groan was inappropriate, but the soft, yet demanding voice clearly had something that needed to be said.  Rosalie stood beside us, her hand tightly holding Crixus's, as if the boy was a toddler and would run if given the chance.  They both looked as though they ran from the party to the house, rather than given a ride in an overly luxurious SUV.  "Can Crixus spend the night? Please? I promise we won't scream.  He doesn't even know what the Wii is and he's never played Mario Kart! He said he's cool with sleeping on the floor in my room, so you don't have to worry about—"

"Yes," Liam said quickly.  Her smile made his wider, but Liam's attention didn't stay on Rosalie long.  His eyes drifted over her shoulder, to Rico helping Carmen out the car.   "Crixus and Rico will be staying with us from now on."  His eyes fell back to her, then to Crixus.  "There's plenty of beds, you don't have to sleep on the floor."

His shrug was nearly missed.  "You don't have to do that.  I'm used to sleeping on the flo—"

Crixus is tugged in the direction of the house before he can finish his sentence.  His laugh is light and genuine and as they fade, closing in on the front door, you can hear him telling Rosie to slow down. 

"Mario is waiting for us!" Is all she said.  "I'm Princess Peach!"

Crixus's response is timely.  "Who the fuck is Princess Peach?"

"Language!" Federico and Veleno shout at the same time.

Rosalie loses her grip on Crixus's hand as he spun around, doing his best to face his brother and fellow assassin.  The little girl grabs at the collar of his suit jacket, focused on tugging the boy behind her.  She didn't see him throw up double middle fingers—one for Rico, the other for Veleno.  "Sorry, Moms—"

I've seen Crixus die, impaled by the one thing he trusted the most.  His own katana.

They disappeared into the house and laughter followed them.  Dominic is the only one who didn't laugh.  The only one who didn't crack a smile.  The laughter turned to conversation, at least the one I overheard Carmen and Rico having.  He had one hand in the other and leaned toward Carmen as they walked and talked, hardly looking up as he escorted her towards the house.

"I mean, we could talk about it now if you want."

Her words came out softer than his.  "I'm tired."

The look that crossed Federico's face suggested that he knew her I'm tired wasn't a genuine I'm tired.  It was more of a I don't want to talk about it right now.  He nodded slowly and came to a stop, then turned to face her.  He paused so long, trying to figure out the right words that she broke into a smile—and he followed.  A nervous chuckle spilled from Rico's lips as he stood before the woman he called his queen.  "Listen, I—I don't expect you to understand or forgive me, honestly, for doing what I did because it was selfish as shit and I just..."  He glanced quickly around the driveway, noting all those standing around, awkwardly trying to avoid the obviousness of their eavesdropping.  "We can talk another time.  Just, sometime soon, please."

Carmen nodded.  She looked away, trying harder than Rico—if it was possible—to avoid lengthy eye contact.  "If I can't sleep tonight, I'll come find you."

"Sounds good." 

There was a pause.

"Goodnight," Carmen initiated.

Rico's response came far too quickly.  "Goodnight."

The two stand before each other, Federico swaying gently on his heels in nervousness while Carmen stares at everything other than his eyes.  You wouldn't believe that the two had locked lips not even three hours ago, and are now behaving as they probably should now that reality has set in.  Their story is a good one.  A murderous assassin who's never learned to love himself and a woman who dedicates so much of her time helping others that she's never stopped to help herself form a tight friendship as kids, leading to best-friends, leading to lovers, then to a break-up neither of them wanted.  He was trying to save her, while she was trying to save him and they both drowned.  An uncomplicated classic for the history books.

I've seen Federico kill himself.

Carmen made a beeline in my direction, unaware of the eye contact Veleno and Federico make as soon as her back was turned.  Yikes, is the word the two men share to summarize Rico's conversation with Carmen.  She engulfed me in a hug, nearly knocking me over, and held me close. 

"Happy birthday, again, Faith.  I really hope you had a great night."

"I did," I wrapped my arms around her, making sure to squeeze her close when I felt her hug go slack.   "Thank you, and by the way," I tilted my lips toward her ear while my eyes catch Federico near the cars, talking to Veleno.  "Give him a chance.  I think he really wants to explain his situation to you."

"I will."  Were her words to me.  "But you have to play hard to get, sis."

Liam made a face out the corner of my eye.

"You didn't hear that," She told him.

Liam fought a smile and because he was in the process of stifling a laugh, his words came out deeper than intended.  "I have no idea what you're talking about, Ms. Vega."

But Carmen's confidence was gone as fast as Rosalie and Crixus appeared and left.  She tugged on my arm, dragging me a step or two away from Liam's side.  "I'm kidding.  I'm absolutely kidding about playing hard to get, I'm fucking terrified Faith, I—" Shooting a glance in Federico's direction didn't help her nerves. "Every question I had about him leaving, and every question in regards to us, I can ask now and I'm absolutely terrified—"

My hands found a place on either of her shoulder.  "Calm down.  Get some sleep.  He looks about as nervous as you.  It'll work out."

She took a deep breath.  "You're good at that."

"Thank you."

She tossed an arm around my shoulder, escorting me back to Liam's side.  Carmen gave me the gentlest side hug and raises a partial hand.  Liam's eyebrow rose in confusion.  "Yes?" He questioned.

"I hope you two enjoy the rest of your night."  I fought an eye roll as Carmen's shoulder nudged against mine.  What she says next, she makes sure to address to Liam specifically.  "I know kings don't really take advice from us commoners, but I would highly suggest that you two don't use a condom tonight because I want babies—"

I've seen Carmen die.  I'm always too late to save her. 

She timed her escape perfectly, because if she was by my side for a second more my shot to her shoulder would've connected.  All I could hear was her laughter, paired with her telling me happy birthday, one last time before disappearing into the house.

I settled against Liam's side as his arm found a way around my waist.  There was no rush to get inside the house.  Everyone is here.  Everyone I thought I lost and everyone I didn't know I needed. All of them, here.  Despite a few awkward encounters and suspicious conversations that were overheard, the night was about as close to perfect as perfect can get.  Because everyone was here. 

"You alright?"  Liam pressed a kiss against my head.  All I could do was nod.

"Thank you."  I wrapped an arm around his waist and pressed my face against his fitted attire.  I doubted he would mind his shirt getting a little damp.  "Just, thank you."

The second kiss to my head was his your welcome.

"You look good."  Veleno and Federico had waited long enough for Dominic to catch up with them before they began their journey towards the house.  Dominic didn't appear surprised by Veleno's comment.

"Everyone has been saying that." Dominic replied.  A quick glance towards his brother, Veleno, then to Liam proved his next point.  "I don't look anything like everyone else."

"No, you don't."  Rico took over, answering honestly.  "But you look good for you and that's all that matters, you hear me?"

Dominic replied reluctantly.  You could hear the exhaustion in his voice.  "I hear you."  He laughs when Rico playfully slapped him in the back of the head. "Stop touching me—"

Federico jumped ahead of him, a teasing smile graced the assassin's face.  "You're going to be saying that all night, because I already told Liam that I'm not sleeping in the other guestroom.  I'm sleeping with you."  Dom stopped walking once Federico turned to face him.  "And apparently, I'm a cuddler."

"You're not sleeping with me."

"Yes, I am."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

Dominic sighed.  "Rico, why are you on your knees?"

Liam busted out into laughter beside me at the sight of Rico on his knees, hands clenching either side of Dominic's hips.

"Honestly," Federico did his best to fight the chuckle he knew was coming.  His smile was hard to miss.  "I don't know, I just thought if I had to convince you—"

Dom moved past his brother and stormed toward the house.  He casted the slightest, most fleeting glance in our direction, but didn't say a word.

I've seen Dominic die, taking a bullet for somebody he had no business taking one for.  He took the bullet for me.

Rico pulled himself to his feet and cupped a hand around mouth, speaking before Dominic could disappear completely.  "I'll be there soon, honey."

"Stop fucking with him," Veleno slapped Rico on the arm and the two share a quick laugh.  It didn't last long.  "He's not in a good place."

"Neither are you," Federico added.  It was the first I'd heard him casually mention the death of Veleno and Savaughna's daughter, Analía, confirming that Rico did indeed know about the little girl prior. 

Veleno looked away from him, and somehow his attention had found mine.

Neither a confirmation nor a denial of Federico's statement comes from Veleno's mouth.  A look uncharacteristic for the one-eyed assassin masked his face for only but a second.  Vulnerability.  But as quickly as it came, it was gone.  He offered me another happy birthday and nodded in respect to Liam.  He started to make his way towards the house when Liam spoke up.

"Not to be cliché, but it's okay to not be okay."

Veleno answered quickly.  "No, it's not."  He turned just enough to address Liam.  The look on Veleno's face suggested that he believed everything he was saying, and there was no changing his mind.  "I don't expect you to understand.  You weren't trained like us.  But it's not.  It's never okay to not be okay."

I've never seen Veleno die.  He's already dead.

Federico doesn't give Liam a chance to respond.  "Thanks for letting us crash here."

Liam's attention remained on Veleno until the front door shut behind him.  He shifted his stance and offered Rico a warm smile.  "No reason to hide anymore.  Everyone knows your alive."

"Right."  He avoided my eyes by looking over his shoulder, catching Zara and Vincenzo in low conversation.  The two laughed privately as they made their way toward the home.  "Thank you, anyway," is all Rico added before following Veleno's trail inside. 

But it was the brief millisecond of time where my eyes had met his that I knew.  Federico had quietly slipped back inside the party, his disappearance unnoticed to all those enjoying the music and the drinks.  I reappeared moments later with Veleno by my side, we had shared a look, before going on our separate ways.  I was certain that we had gone unnoticed, until I caught Rico's attention just above the rim of his glass.  I thought I was being overly dramatic, but this look told me everything I needed to know.  He knew I heard.  He knew I was there.  He knew, I knew.

"Is this jealously I'm hearing, Mr. De Santis?"  The shock in Zara's voice was easy to spot.  Her arm is looped through Vincenzo's as they slowly, unsurely, made their way towards us.  Vincenzo's smile was as bright as I'd ever seen it.

"No, just...who didn't you dance with tonight?"

Zara laughed loudly and managed to re-affirm Vincenzo my gently squeezing his arm.  "You could've danced with me."

His response was predicted.  "You know I can't."

I've seen Vincenzo die, ambushed and overwhelmed.  They take him off his throne, where he is at his weakest, and they kill him before he can get back on it.

Zara released Vincenzo's arm just long enough to pull me into a hug.  She whispers a peaceful goodnight, and a thank you, for tonight.  She mentioned that it was the most fun she had in a while, before moving on to her son.  Liam and Zara shared an embrace, both uttering a I love you.

She pulled back, either hand finding their way to Liam's face.  She smiled up at him.  She never had to tell him how proud she was of him.  You could see it.  You could always see it. 

I've seen Zara die.  She always shows the least amount of fear, even in the face of death.  She dies smiling, knowing where she's headed.

Her arm found its way around Vincenzo's once more.  The former king offered us a gentle nod of his head, before heading inside with Zara on his arm.

"You ready to go inside?" Liam questioned.

"I'm ready."

A simple two-fingered salute from Liam and the three idling SUVs peeled off.  I remember beginning to say something, only to let out an inhuman screech as Liam scooped me off my feet.  I had let out a laugh as he carried me inside and up the stairs.  I asked him how he knew my feet had started to hurt.  He just smiled.

"Did you have fun tonight?"

He poised his question the moment my feet hit the floor of our bedroom.  He turned back to lock our bedroom door, and by the time he faced me once more, he was slipping the black suit jacket from off his shoulders.  To not acknowledge the way his slim-fit black dress shirt clung to his shoulders would've been an absolute crime.  The intensity in his eyes and the look he was giving as he approached was enough for me to forget the question he asked.  The shimmering diamonds in his ear and the growing smile that pulled his lips apart, exposing his white teeth didn't help matters at all.

I finally found my voice.  "Depends."  He quirked an eyebrow in anticipation.  My smile matched his.  "I'll answer your question when we're done."

My hands found their way around his neck.  His traveled a soothing path down my back and over my ass.  His hands tighten around my thighs as he bends, picking me up and tugging me against him.  My head falls back in a laugh as his lips find their way to my neck, to my collarbone—

My feet hit the floor once more that night, giving Liam just enough time to tug the expensive dress over my head.

"If I could stop smiling, maybe I could kiss you." 

"Don't worry about that."  He lifted me with ease, holding tight to the back of my thighs as he lowered me to the bed.  My head was tucked into the crook of his shoulder, but I could hear the smile.  "You can kiss me for the rest of your life."

His lips found mine in a silent promise.  He managed to work the sleeves of his dress shirt off his arms and down his shoulders without leaning away.  His skin was warm to touch, his stomach clenched as I drew an invisible line to the waistband of his pants.  He broke the kiss with a laugh as I fumbled with his belt. 

He reached over to grab something.

It didn't click until a second later.  I reached out and grabbed his bicep.  He stopped to look at me.  A look of recognition passed over his face.  He dropped the condom back in the drawer and shut it with a laugh on the tip of his tongue.  "You're insane," He lowered his face to mine, hovering a few inches above my lips.

I smiled back.  "What's a life without risks?

I've seen Liam die.  I've seen him die more than anybody else.  He fights harder than anybody else, because of all the people he knows depending on him.  His death is always the hardest, not because he's the man I love, but because of how much he cares.

But tonight, it's Rosalie's tortured screams that wake me up in a cold sweat.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

I have seen everyone I love die more than once in my dreams and to say it's exhausting would be an understatement.  My heart is racing.  I'm sweaty, and the cool breeze that blows across my bare chest through the partially opened window doesn't help.  I clutch our comforter to my chest and call out, "Liam," in the dark.

It doesn't take long for me to realize that he's no longer beside me.  His phone continues to charge on the nightstand, suggesting that he didn't wander far.  I reach around blindly in the dark, trying to find any article of clothing to cover myself with.  I stumble towards the dressers, my feet dragging through a litany of clothes that litter the floor.  It's clear Liam had the same idea as me when he woke up.

I slip on a pair of Liam's most comfortable shorts and grab one of his oversized shirts.  A quick glance at the clock says it's nearly three in the morning, but that doesn't stop me from quickly leaving the room in hopes of finding something that will take my mind off my dream and keep me from hearing Rosalie's tortured screams again. 

I find something that makes me smile before I can reach downstairs.  Low conversation floats out the small crack in the door leading to Vincenzo's room, leading me to gravitate towards it.  I smile as soon as I reach the door.  Vincenzo sits on the edge of his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts that resemble the one's I threw on.  Zara stands before him, a hand extended.  There will never be confusion as to how she managed to capture the hearts of Michael and Vince.  Even in a simple robe with her hair up, she looks as though she's ready to walk the runway. 

"It's all about confidence." She smiles, shaking her hand in hopes Vincenzo takes it.  "Always be confident."

"Funny," Vincenzo reluctantly takes her small hand in his.  His thumb runs along the back of her hand.  "That was never hard for me until Valentin took it."

Zara leans forward to grab Vincenzo's other hand and using as much strength as she can, pulls him into a standing position.  He's still unsteady on his feet and the expression that flashes across his face suggests he isn't confident in his own ability to stand.  But he trusts the woman standing before him, and because of that, he doesn't sit back down.  "I'm not going to let you fall," she says quietly.

"I know, but," Vince winces in nervousness as Zara slowly leads him away from his safe place, away from the bed.  "I appreciate you doing this, but I was just messing with you earlier.  It didn't bother me that you were dancing with every man in the room, I just wished I could dance with you."

"You can."

"I can barely—"

"Hey."  Zara rests a hand on the side of Vincenzo's face.  If you were watching carefully, you would see him lean ever-so-slightly into her touch.  You can hear the concern in her voice.  "What else did they take from you?"

"Everything."

"They took your throne," Zara corrects sternly.  "They didn't take your life.  The Vincenzo I know would make them regret that decision for the rest of his goddamn life.  You're more than just that throne.  That seat didn't make you the ruler of Detroit.  You did that."  She draws a hand down the side of his face, and adds, "The throne doesn't make the king."

Vincenzo doesn't have a response.

She continues to draw him further away from his comfort zone.  His nerves start to rise and it's clear he believes the only thing keeping him standing is her hands in his.  "A wise man once said that power was the ability to command without having to speak."

His smile is weak.  "And who was this overly wise and ridiculously handsome man?"

Zara fights the rolling of her eyes, but her smile betrays her.  "And although I agree with his definition, I would like to add my own.  It's one thing to let someone rip you off your throne.  And it's another to let them crush your confidence and strip you of your trust, but standing up again and taking it back?  That's potere."

Vincenzo's anxiety visibly skyrockets as Zara releases his hands and backs away.  His shoulders tense and he freezes, hands out, focusing solely on his unstable balance.  "Why would you—"

"I can't take your throne back for you," Zara explains softly, "That's something you have to do for yourself.  But what I can do is help you get back to that point, back where you were confident.  Back when you trusted every decision, every step you made.  And if the doubt in your head is telling you that I'm doing this because you're my exes best friend, its wrong." She extends a graceful hand, baiting Vincenzo to take the steps needed to reach her.  "You'll always be my favorite assassin, Vincent."

"Jai—" She waves her hand before him, a knowing smile resting across her gorgeous features.  Vincenzo takes an unconfident step in her direction and although he feels as though he's going to fall, it's clear to me that he's standing steady.  It's proof to me and anybody else watching that the only thing holding Vincenzo back is his mind.  "If I fall on my face, I swear to God—"

"I'll catch you."

Vincenzo lets a moment pass.  "Good luck with that.  I might've lost a little weight, but I'm just under two-fifty, so unless your pretty little self can bench—"

"Vince."  Zara's laugh is light and welcoming.  "You're not going to fall, and if you do, well..." She shrugs playfully, "I can think of a few places worse than being under you."

"You tease."

"Please."  Her hand still reaches out towards him.  "Take my hand."

Vincenzo takes another step, albeit an uncomfortable one, and he stumbles. His knee hits the floor, and he curses, whether in pain or embarrassment, I'll never know.  A compassionate look shapes Zara's expression, but there isn't an ounce of disappointment or shame.  He tried, and that's all that matters to her.  She stands before him in a matter of seconds, her lips taking shape to ask if he's okay.

Vince wraps his arms around Zara's legs and rises to his feet quickly, his stumble nothing but a lure to draw Zara closer to him.  A trap.  He laughs, tossing the woman over his shoulder with ease.  His steps are still calculated and slow, but the weight of the woman above grounds him, his steps growing in confidence with each one.  She hits him on the back with a laugh as he lowers her to the bed and tosses a leg over her, trapping the woman beneath him.

She throws a weak punch and Vincenzo dodges with ease, and laughter.  "You're sick," She resigns to her position underneath him with a sigh.  "I wanted to dance with you tonight, but I knew you would be too nervous to do that in front of other people."

Vince smiles weakly.  "I want to dance with you too."

Zara catches the innuendo quickly and purses her lips.  "I'm talking about ballroom dancing."

"Oh, I was talking about bedroom dancing."

Their laughter fills the room and echoes out of it.  Their smiles don't fade, even as the laughter does.  Neither move.  Once upon a time in a generation that isn't my own, Vincenzo De Santis was the assassin hired by Michael Luciano to murder Jaiyana Zara.  He refused.  The chemistry they show now, tucked privately in the confines of Vincenzo's guestroom is proof that it's always been there—but Jaiyana was married to Michael, albeit toxic, and Vincenzo had just lost his fiancé and his son.  The timing was never right, and I think the two have come to understand that it never will be.

Zara leans up and captures Vincenzo's lips in hers.

He doesn't kiss her back.

"I am so—" She pushes him off and scrambles to her feet in preparation of making a beeline for the front door.  "—I know we've always joked and teased each other, I never meant to—" I'm mentally preparing to make my grand exit when Vincenzo snakes a hand out, tightly grabbing Zara by the wrist, forcing her to a stop. 

"No." Is all he says.  Vincenzo's other hand finds a home around Zara's throat, drawing her flush against his chest.  His grip on her tightens as he tilts her head back.  He narrows the gap and whispers harshly against her lips.  "Don't fucking apologize."

I make a mental note to ask Zara what took her breath more: Vincenzo's throat grab or his kiss.

I shut the door for their privacy and continue my journey downstairs.  The house is quiet, but alive all at the same time.  And I know Zara, Vincenzo, and I aren't the only ones avoiding sleep.  I make my way down the steps and through the kitchen, making a pitstop just long enough to down a glass of water.  I continue my journey through the kitchen and stop at the faint light that seeps through the crack underneath the door leading to Liam's office. 

I make the mistake of speaking before I reach the door.  "I missed—" And then I realize Liam isn't alone.  He heard me coming, his attention drifting over to the door as soon as I hit the brakes, stopping short of entering his office.  Dominic is seated on the sofa off to my left, head bowed.  Liam waves me back, but undoubtedly mouths, "Listen."

And it's clear that I nearly stormed in at the perfect time.  Dominic hasn't even begun to speak yet.

A quick look in his direction and the happiness that Zara and Vincenzo unknowingly filled my heart with is drained at the sight of Dominic.  I'll never be able to get over the weight he lost or the way his head of beautiful, thick hair has thinned.  His tattered clothes hang on him no better than they did weeks ago, but even the slightest victory is a victory.  And him sitting before Liam today, alive, is a small one.

"I know we haven't really spoken since the hospital."  Dominic's voice is soft and on the verge of shaking.  He doesn't make eye contact, probably nervous by the intense glare of Liam behind his desk.  He wrings the hem of his torn hoodie to ease the anxiety.  "I mean, we haven't really spoken...I don't know.  Time is sort of jumbled in my head."

I can tell even Liam is nervous as he offers Dominic assistance.  "We haven't really spoken since I told you—"

"That I would never work by your side again." Dominic looks up, nodding.  "I know."  There's a pause.  "You know what's crazy is, I think I've accepted Rose's death.  I miss her every day, but what fucked me up—what pushed me over the edge was Rico.  We were in the car once and he told me, he said, don't leave me—and he went ahead and left me.  And that was enough for me to down a whole bottle of pills but makes me want to end my life is you.  I hate you.  I fucking hate you. I hate you because I let you down."

"Dom..."

"I took an oath." Dominic sits forward, tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes as he cuts Liam off.  "I stood in front of you, in front of the whole family, and I swore on my life that I would protect this family, these soldiers, and if I had to, lay my life down for you and everyone under my care and I let you and everyone down because I couldn't handle my own stupid shit."  Dominic's knee bounces, unable to sit still.  "I hate y—" His eyes shut tight as he groans, clawing angrily at the hair that remains.  "—I don't hate you, I hate myself.  I hate myself. I hate myself."

Liam pushes himself away from his desk and crosses the room in seconds.  He plops down beside Dominic, angling his body towards him.  He leans in.  "Stop that. You didn't let me down. You could never let me down."  A hand on Dominic's back causes him to look up and over at the man seated beside him.  Dom's eyes are red with tears, unable to accept the truth: he hates himself.  "I didn't take your position from you because I was mad at you or disappointed in you.  I took it from you to save you.  I took it from you because you weren't in the mindset to help and maybe a part of me thought it would make you want to work harder to be better.  A part of me thought it might motivate you, you were always easily motivated."

"Well that's where your fucking wrong," Dom snaps.  "I'm not that Dominic anymore—"

"Then who are you?"

Dominic's response is right on time.  "A drug addict." And although we all know it, there's something about it being spoken that causes Liam to hold his breath.   Dom drops his gaze.  "A drug addict that wants help and that wants his friend back."

"You never lost me, pretty boy," Dom cracks a smile at Liam's playful shove.  "You just lost yourself, and that's okay.  But just because you don't recognize yourself doesn't mean you're not you.  The Dominic I know always asked for help, even when he was a little stubborn.  If you weren't you, you wouldn't be sitting on my couch right now."

"I'm just..." He bows his head. It's clear Dominic still has a lot to get off his chest, but he's struggling.  "I'm so sorry. You say you recognize me but if you knew what I knew.  If I told you some of the things I've done since I've fallen, you wouldn't look at me the same.  You'd lose all respect for me."

Liam doesn't seem moved.  "Is that a bad thing? When it's obvious you've already lost respect for yourself?"

Dominic doesn't have an answer.

"I just want to be better than I was," Dom finally says.  "I mean, I have to be, for Crixus right?"

"I think Crixus would want you to be better for yourself."

Dom nods, the ghost of a smile teasing his lips.  "You're kind of good at this."  It was the lightest his voice has sounded this whole conversation.  "You ever think about being a therapist?"

Liam lets out a loud laugh.  "Dom, buddy, I have my problems killed.  I need the therapist." 

Laughter of somebody who recently cried is a sound I'll always cherish, and I know it's one Liam will as well—his smile grows.  When the laughter lulls, a weight of seriousness falls upon the conversation once more.  "Do you want help?  Just say it.  Confirm it again, for me, and I promise Dominic, I'll have you in the best facility the states have to offer.  All you have to do is say—"

"Yes."  A tear falls from the corner of Dominic's eye.  "I want help."

Liam doesn't appear excited.  "You're about to add something that will probably piss me off."

Dom cracks a faint smile.  "You know me so well."  He hesitates, mouth falling open and closing as he decides where to start.  "I want help," He confirms again, "But I don't want to go away right now.  I can't go away right now."  I anticipate Liam to jump in, to contradict, but he remains silent.  "I've fought every war by your side.  I can't do anything inside a fucking rehab and before you say anything, if anything happened to anybody while I was in there, I would feel absolutely sick because I couldn't do a damn thing to stop it and I'm fucking tired of feeling helpless, Liam, because everything that has happened to me I couldn't stop—"

Dominic's body shakes with tears and the only option Liam is left with is to pull him into a hug. 

And in silence, Liam holds him. 

"You don't have to go anywhere right now.

Just stay alive for me, Dom, but most importantly—for yourself."

I didn't think my emotions could take another turn.  From happiness to sadness, back to happy, and back to sad.  I feel tears of my own welling up in the corner of my eyes, forcing me to turn and speed-walk back down the hallway.  I catch a glimpse of Kathryn Mitchell in the kitchen, and I dip into the nearest room.

I lean back towards the door, talking to myself, "Is anybody asleep?"

Someone answers me.  "I don't think so."

The unexpected presence behind me is startling.  I lose balance as I spin around, my back forcing the door closed and taking the slither of light with it.  Darkness welcomes the room for but a second, before the individual reaches beside my head, flipping the light on.

Federico smiles at me.

I rest a hand on my chest.  "You scared the shit out of me."  Something registers.  "Why are you in a dark room by yourself?"

He tilts his head a bit.  "I was talking to my demons."

"I can't tell if you're being serious."

He points over his shoulder and steps aside, allowing the beautiful piano that sits in the middle of the room to come to view.  "Maybe talking to was the wrong phrase."  He gives me a sly smile and turns back to the piano, moving towards it and speaking over his shoulder, "More like silencing.  I was just trying to silence my demons."

I nod in understanding, but don't speak on it.  I make sure the door is closed before folding my arms across my chest and taking a cautious step towards the piano.  Federico is sitting down on the piano bench by the time I speak.  "We need to talk."

He smiles.  "And if you were my girl I would say, Yes we do, so we'd both be fucking stressed—"

"Rico."

He purses his lips quickly and glances away.  When he turns back, eyes on me, the jokes are a thing of a past.  His expression is serious, and his tone backs it up.  A part of me expects him to deny what I heard, maybe try and throw a curveball in my direction.  I don't anticipate, "How much did you hear?"

I return his question with one of my own.  "What was in the folder?"

He sees my game and raises me one.  "You think I'm a traitor?"  The laugh that slips past his lips is an unbelieving one.  "You think I'm a liar?"

"I'm not calling you a truther."

Federico loses it the moment the words hit his ears.  His laugh is contagious, no matter how irritated I am.  Rico's laugh fades to a chuckle as I narrow the space between us.  "I can't take you seriously at all," He finally says with a smile.  "Drake and Josh was the shit back in the day."

I nudge Federico to scoot over, and I slide onto the small bench beside him.  He spins to face the piano and I copy him.  I don't let another second pass or give him the time to start playing.  "Rico, please.  What was in the folder?"

He hesitates, but reluctantly admits, "Information on my dad—" He winces and adds, "—on Vince," for clarification.  Federico glances down at his lap and closes his eyes long enough to take a calming breath.  He looks to me.  "It wasn't anything that would put dad at risk.  He saved my life and in return, I gave him something he wanted."

"Why did he save you?"

Federico's shrug comes quickly.  "I don't know."

"Don't bullshit me."

"Because he could relate," He finally answers truthfully.  "We—we all have demons.  Some of us fight with pills, smoking, excessive alcohol.  Some of us struggle with anxiety and depression.  Demons. And they're powerful, but somebody recently taught me that if you can learn to control them, you're the most powerful of them all."  Rico looks away, his attention falling on the ivory keys that have always managed to silence the voices in his head.  "I struggled controlling them.  I couldn't.  I would let the voices in my head talk so much shit and because I wanted them to stop, I wanted it all to end—I found myself there, standing in the middle of Valentin's goddamn army."

I nod in understanding as a wave of comfort washes over me.  Federico answered the main question and for that I was happy and content. 

"I'm glad you found a friend," I smile up at the assassin, before spinning around and rising to my feet.  "Too bad he's a dead man."

Federico hits a litany of keys on the piano, a horrible sound echoing loudly and harshly around the room.  It stops me in my tracks, but what draws the goosebumps to my skin is the words that crawl out of his mouth next.  I hardly recognize my friend's voice.  "You can't kill him."

I stop, clench my jaw, and spin back around.  "Rico—"

"You have to trust me."

The tightness in my chest appears out of nowhere and the next thing I know my knees are brushing against the piano bench and I'm staring down at Federico.  "He killed my motherfucking mother and almost took Liam from me.  You weren't there! You didn't see it! He's exactly what they make him out to be.  A sick fucking—"

He stands up quickly, accidently shoving me backwards and knocking the bench over.  And just like that he's standing over me, face red. "Valentin is the sick motherfucker you should be mad at."

I don't back down. "They both are."

Rico shakes his head, "You're wrong."

"I don't give a fuck what I am," is all I can declare. "If given the chance, the soldiers have already been ordered to put Diavolo's fucking ass down and I'd highly suggest you don't get in their fucking way.  It would be a damn shame to mourn you twice."

There's a level of bewilderment that rests on Federico's face as we stand toe-to-toe.  He's rendered speechless, his lips parted slightly at my declaration.  Shook would probably be the best term to describe him in the moment.

I turn away the moment a tear of exhaustion finds it way out the corner of my eye.  One of frustration follows.

"Faith Ann Mitchell Crawford Luciano, turn your ass around right now."

My voice shakes as I try to speak.  "Rico, I'm not a Luciano ye—"

He's smiling.  "Whatever that was, I want more of it.  The growth? Un-fucking-matched.  Your five-foot-whatever ass really stood up to me and didn't fucking blink even though you know I could've snapped your fucking neck before you would ever know what happened and I fucking respect that."  He extends his arms in concern, "Now come to mama."

I laugh through the tears and press my face against his chest.  "My mother would've never cussed like that."

His chuckle makes his chest vibrate.

I steady my breathing.  "I just don't want to lose anybody else.  I can't lose anybody else."

He pulls away and takes a step back to look down on me.  "I know.  Listen, we're not going to agree on what we were talking about.  He killed your mom and put Liam's life in jeopardy, and I respect how you feel about it.  You have every right to aim a gun at his head and pull the trigger, but nothing in my life has ever been simple and this isn't either.  I just want you to know I understand how you feel and there are absolutely no hard feelings for you practically telling me that Luciano soldiers will rip one through my head to get to Diavolo—"

I crack a smile at his tone.

"—but," He adds softly.  "Minus a lot of things, he saved my life.  And unless you've been through what I've been through, you wouldn't understand, but...I was so convinced, all my life, that I couldn't be saved—when in reality, me saying that, was just a cry for help.  I wanted to be saved, I just didn't think it was possible.  But it is possible and when I see Diavolo, I see myself.  And a part of me wants to save him."

I nod.   "We aren't going to agree, but I respect that as well."

"Okay," He smiles softly and turns around, positioning the bench correctly before lowering himself to it.  By the time his attention falls back on me, I'm on my way out the room.  "Whoa, whoa, whoa—" He reaches me in all of four large steps.  "I just came back from the dead, and if you think I'm going to let you walk out of here and see Liam with your nose all red and face stained with tears, you're crazy.  He's scary sometimes.  Don't tell him I said that. Besides," He draws me back into the room and scoots over enough to allow me to sit beside him.  "Life's too short, and I don't want you walking out of here mad at me."

My sniffle breaks my silence.  "I'm not mad."

"You hesitated."

My smile breaks through and I can do nothing but roll my eyes.  He spins around with a smile of his own and I copy him, facing the piano.  He doesn't appear eager to play.  Federico glances at me out the corner of his eye. 

"This feels awfully familiar."

A simple statement with more meaning than he'll ever know.  A part of me misses the old days.  Everything is always seems easier when it's in the past.  We thought nothing could be worse than Peter Corinelli and here we stand today, doing everything we can to eradicate the Rostov empire, and if I'm blessed to live beyond this war there will be another.

But the other part of me doesn't miss the older days.  I don't miss the person I used to be.

I smile, nudging Rico's bicep with my shoulder.  "We were in a very different place back then."

"Right," Federico chuckles, "You, especially.  I mean, don't get me wrong, you've always been cool but you've definitely..." He hesitates, trying to find the right word as a smile grows.  "Let's just say you've been properly seasoned."

"Like meat?"

Rico pauses, then speaks slowly.  "I mean...white meat is good when properly seasoned—"

"You're so fucking annoying." I pair my laugh with a playful shove to his side, and I watch his overly dramatic ass topple over and onto the floor, laughing the entire way down.  He brushes the longer strands of hair back, out of his eyes and rests his chin against the bench.  He looks up at me.  His smile is as bright as can be.  "I'm so happy you're happy.  Happier.  You're in a really different place than the last time we sat at a piano together and I'm really proud of you."

"I am happier."  He stands and settles back down beside me.  "I'm still not where I want to be."  His sentence cuts off far too soon and I wait, patiently, until he decides to continue.  Federico takes a deep breath.  "I'm starting to learn that we all have a purpose..."  We catch each other's eyes at the same time.  "And being an assassin was never mine."

I wait for him to elaborate more, but he doesn't.  "What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm done." His tone is brutal, but straightforward.  "I don't want to do this anymore.  I know I'm in too deep.  There is no possible way I will ever be able to have a semi-normal life.  I'll always help dad with the family and I'll fight alongside you and Liam's soldiers to take Valentin down, but I don't want to be an assassin anymore."  The pain in his eyes is evident.  "I don't want to be Fantasma anymore."

I scoot closer to him, angling my face to get a better look at his.  "Hey..."

"Do you know how many people I'll be letting down?'

"Zero," I say confidently.  "Absolutely nobody.  All anybody in this house wants is for you to be happy and if retiring will bring you that happiness, then do it."

Federico just nods.

I nudge him again, guessing what I already know.  "You told me you were in here silencing your demons, meaning they started talking to you, meaning you were struggling to fall asleep.  So, what else is on your mind?"

I hit the jackpot as Rico chuckles, shaking his head in bewilderment.  "Dad," He says softly.  "Liam told me that right before Michael died that the fire that kept him going was gone.  He said it was like Michael knew." Federico shakes his head, "I see it in Vince.  Way before I even planned to take myself out, I saw it.  He was changing.  And that played a factor too, because dad—he's all I know—and I was scared that I would lose him, so I'd rather he lose me then me lose him and—fuck." Rico leans forward on the keys, trying to control his rapid heartrate.  When he speaks again, his words are hardly above a whisper. "I'm losing my dad. I thought me coming back might light something in his eyes, might motivate him to take his kingdom back, but nothing.  I feel like I've lost him."

Federico knows more about Vincenzo than I do, but I will say that the man upstairs is nothing like the one that put utter fear in Peter Corinelli's soul with a mere bandana and a flick of the head.  The man upstairs is nothing like the one who appeared on our television screen, declaring that if we thought Federico De Santis was crazy, we hadn't met him.  The man upstairs is nothing like the one who descended the stairwell with the definition of power on the tip of his tongue.

"I don't want to talk about anything sad anymore," Rico suddenly says.  He clears his throat and motions to the piano.  "I'm waiting for Carmen.  Private piano lessons."  The wiggling of his eyebrows is completely unnecessary.

"At almost three in the morning?"

"I'm a flexible teacher?"

I laugh at his response.  "I like her."

"I like her too."

"I think you love her."

"And I think you need to shut the fuck up."  We share another laugh, but his smile fades faster than mine can.  "I don't fully love myself, how could I properly love her? I mean, I'm working on it, I just...she's everything. She's perfect.  I mean nobody is perfect, but she's probably about as close a human can possibly get to perfection, let's be real—" I blink, my smile widening as Federico doesn't catch himself pathetically rambling.  This isn't a conversation between him and I, but him and him alone.  "She always wants to help people and I love that about her, but she deserves so much better than me and I know it.  She knows it, the whole freaking world knows it. Okay, maybe I do love her. I mean I know I love her, we've always told each other that we love each other but to be in love? That's wild.  All I know is I'd follow that woman anywhere."

He takes in a deep breath and exhales. 

"Anywhere?" I bait with a teasing tone.

"Anywhere," He confirms.  "I'd follow her all the way to the gates of heaven even though I know they'd never let me in." Rico runs a hand down the side of his face with a sigh.  "I don't deserve to stand in the presence of an angel, let alone a god."

I throw a lazy arm around his shoulder, pulling him to me in a hug.  "You deserve a lot more then you give yourself credit for, Rico."  His smile widens when I kiss his cheek—but it disappears, and fast.

He shoves me off him, rapidly wiping at the area my lips once were.  He drags the palm of each hand over his cheek once, twice, then a third time.  Unconvinced that he's wiped away the evidence of my friendly kiss, he grabs at the hem of his shirt and repeats the process again.  I rest a hand on my chest, faking a look of hurt.

"My saliva isn't acid."

"No offense to you or anything," Federico continues to scrub the side of his face, "But I'm not going to let anybody ruin my chance with Carmen and if she even sees the slightest amount of lipstick or whatever on my face my chances are squashed and last time I checked, you have a man, so I'm not going to let you fuck this up for me."

I blink, watching as Rico finally decides to let his shirt fall back into place. 

"So you get a girl and change up on me?" I tease.

He lets out a breath.  "I don't have a girl, technically."

A faint curse startles Federico and I, forcing both of us to spin towards the door.  Crixus hops around on one foot, while a hand massages the toes he just jammed against the door.  "I don't have a girl," He mimics his brother in a high-pitched, ridiculously inaccurate voice.  "Denial isn't just a river in Europe, dumbass."

Federico fights to hold back a laugh as I cover a hand over my mouth, concealing a smile I can't hide.  "Okay, dumbass," Crixus nearly topples over multiple times as he caresses his aching toes.  Our eyes follow the boy around the room as he hobbles.  "The Nile is a river in Egypt."

Crixus stumbles back over towards the door.  His balance is impressive. "Whatever. I kill people. I don't study ge—go—geo—"

"Geography," I assist him.

Rico doesn't fight to hide his smile anymore.  "What're you even doing here? I thought you'd be sleep."

"Crixus felt the need to escort me," Carmen pushes the door open.  The boy stops hobbling, but winces as he sets his foot back on the ground.  He yanks up his sleeve, motioning towards him and Carmen's matching bracelets.  "I don't know why," She smiles softly.

"I told you," Crixus feigns exhaustion as he turns to the woman.  "I just wanted to make sure you got down here safely.  You could've tripped on the steps or something."

I cross the room and rest a hand on Crixus's shoulder.  We bid the two goodbye and exit the room, closing the door just enough for Carmen and Rico to feel as though they have their privacy. But one look in Crixus's direction and I know he has the same idea as me.  He presses himself against one side of the wall, and I on the other.  We left the door open just enough to engage in another session of eavesdropping.

Federico stands quickly, so quickly in fact that he practically trips over the bench.  Carmen's back is towards us, but you can hear her let out a faint laugh.  "Why are you nervous?"

"You," Rico answers before he can think about what he's about to say.  "You're standing..." He motions toward her.  There's something particularly cute knowing that an assassin can remain cool, calm, and collected even in the worst of situations, but put a pretty girl in his presence and he loses all of that.  "I just didn't think you'd answer my text."

"I couldn't sleep."

"Lucky me."

Federico finds his way around the piano bench, meeting Carmen halfway.  She turns to face him, the softest of smiles pulling her lips apart.  Rico's matches hers.  It isn't until he realizes this does he look away.  His eyes close for just a second, but it's long enough to calm his nerves and speak from his heart.

His eyes open again.  "Did you ever notice how bad I got once we started dating?"

There's hesitation in Carmen's eyes as her attention darts to him.  She responds a second later.  "Yeah, I did.  You would lie to me, tell me that you were doing okay, but I knew.  I always know, Rico.  You started taking pills again.  You were smoking more."  She catches herself, not wanting to elaborate on the bad memories anymore.  But she manages to add softly, "I felt like it was my fault."

Federico doesn't let her thought simmer for even a second.  "It was not your fault.  It was mine. All mine.  I went into our relationship thinking it would save me.  I thought you would save me.  I thought I would be happy. I thought the suicidal thoughts would stop.  I thought the urge to overdose or shoot myself in the head would stop, especially if I was lying beside you.  But they didn't and I hit rock bottom."

Rico takes a step back, distancing himself from Carmen as he takes a breath. 

"Is there anything I could've done?" She asks.

He shakes his head.  "No.  You did everything you needed to do.  You made me happy. I just wasn't happy with myself.  You showed me love, maybe you even loved me—"

"I did love you." Carmen doesn't falter in her declaration.  "I do love you."

"That's the problem," His voice rises as he moves closer to her, trying his best to explain in a way she could understand.  "I wanted to love you but I couldn't because I didn't love myself.  And what I admire about you, arguably my favorite thing about you is how you always, always, always want to help people.  You've helped me my entire life and I've seen you help others, but Carmen, you're always so busy putting other people before you that you neglect yourself."

Carmen nods slowly, "It's...definitely a problem," she admits.

"I didn't want you to put me before you.  I don't deserve that.  I'm not worth—"

"No."  I've never heard a single word come out as stern as that one.  "No.  You don't decide what you mean to me.  You don't decide your worth.  You are worth everything."  Carmen reaches Federico and grabs at his shirt, tugging him close.  She repeats herself again.  You are worth everything.  "And I know why you broke up with me.  That might've been one reason, but I know the true one.  Your stupid ass really thought your death wouldn't hurt as much if you weren't my quote-on-quote boyfriend?"

Rico pokes his lower lip out, pretending to be in deep thought.  "To be fair, a couple pills can throw off all logic—"

Carmen takes a step back, wiping at the tear that's skating down her cheek.  "You were my best friend before you were my boyfriend.  You may never be my boyfriend again, but you will always be my best friend."

Federico blinks.  "All I got from that was that I'll never be your boyfriend again."

"That is absolutely not what I said."

"Just out of curiosity, is that boyfriend position still open?"

Laughter is a common sound between the two.  She dries her eyes once more but can only smile up at the assassin.  "Why?" She regrettably asks.

"I'm working on shit.  Shit I probably should've been working on, but it's better late than never, right?"  He takes a step towards her.  "And although I wasn't your boyfriend for long, it was quite arguably the best time of my life—minus my internal struggles." Carmen just stares up at him, forcing him to plainly add, "Jesus, woman, I'm thinking about re-doing my resume and applying for that position again when I get myself right."  He takes another step towards her, and their smiles grow.  "How are my chances, management?"

She opens her arms for him, and Federico bends just enough to keep Carmen from leaping on him.  She holds him tight, but he holds her tighter.  Carmen's crying, but her laughter negates the tears. 

"You'll always be my favorite candidate, Rico."

"Who are we sneaking up on?"

It isn't the first time in this early hour of the morning that someone's managed to sneak up behind me. I'm startled enough that I slam the door closed, ruining Carmen and Rico's moment.  My back is pressed against the door and the laughter that comes from behind it is enough to convince me that maybe I didn't ruin their moment at all. 

But the woman standing before me ruined mine. 

"Kathryn," My monotone isn't the greeting she was expecting.  I glance to where Crixus last stood, ready to non-verbally portray my disappointment in him not warning me that somebody was coming.  But the boy is gone, like he was never there.  I look back to my Ms. Mitchell.  "I would say that I missed you at the party, but I didn't."

I stride down the hallway, doing anything I can to get away from her, but she's right on my tail.  "Faith," Her hand finds my shoulder and I stop to shrug it off.  "Happy birthday."

"Belated."

"By two hours—"

"Belated," I state again.

She sighs.  "Happy belated birthday.  I was going to go to your party, but a part of me knew you wouldn't want me there, so I—"

I force a smile.  "Good to know you can read a room—"

"Faith, I'm leaving."  That stops me in my tracks, and I turn back to face her, doing nothing to stop the smile spreading across my face.  "Don't be devastated." My smile inches wider.  "Liam spoke with me earlier.  He said he would talk to you about it, but I guess he hasn't.  He's moving me to another location—anywhere in the world.  I didn't find it funny when he said to pick the place furthest from him."  She cracks a slight smile, understanding why he would say that.  "He says he doesn't trust me in his home."

"I agree."

"And why is that?"

"The timing of your entrance."

"I get that," She agrees with a nod.  "I get why you're worried, but I just want what's best for you."

"Then you will stop trying to convince me to leave Liam."

It's clear my mother is trying her best not to sound like a broken record, but the only statement that her mouth seems to be able to form repeats itself: "This family is the reason why your sister is—" She recognizes the look on my face and stops with a sigh. "I'm going back to Maryland.  We have family there.  I'm leaving tomorrow evening.  Will you at least ride to the airport with me?"

I turn to leave.  "Let me check my schedule and I'll get back to you."

"I'm surprised he's letting me go easily," She calls out after me.  The desperation of wanting a conversation is obvious and I stop, turning one final time in hopes I can give her what she wants and be left alone.

"Liam isn't terrible."

"He trusts that I won't go to the police?"

I laugh.  "You won't."

"And if I do?"

"I'll be the one to kill you."

That shuts her up and keeps her standing right where I leave her. 

I make my way into the kitchen, moving quickly in hopes my mother doesn't try to follow me once more.  And if she was, I know she would try and follow me up the stairs, so I hook a sharp turn and move into the spacious living room. 

I stop when my eyes fall on Crixus.  He sits on the floor, his back supported by the edge of the sofa.  His legs are sprawled out before him.  He has the hem of his shirt tucked into his mouth, his jaw working anxiously.  He's deep in thought and I speak out loud, not wanting to scare him.

"I was wondering where you went." I approach cautiously.  He doesn't acknowledge my presence or respond to my comment, but the slight jump in his shoulders at the sound of my voice suggests he knows I'm here.  I lower myself slowly to a position beside him.  I tuck my knees to my chest before wrapping my arms around them.  "You alright?" I let a beat pass before continuing, "You left kind of quickly.  You didn't like seeing your brother all up on your girl?"

That earns a smile.  Air escapes from the corners of Crixus's mouth as he smiles, his teeth still clutching tight to the fabric resting between them.  He grinds his jaw once more before allowing the shirt to fall from his mouth.  Crixus lifts a hand, indicating his bracelet.  "It isn't like that.  That's his girl.  I hope you don't think I like her more than I like you.  You're both really nice and pretty.  I just say it to her more because I know she's insecure."

I nod, finding his bold proclamations of Carmen's beauty solely for her benefit, as ridiculously sweet. "Rico told you about her insecurities?"

He shakes his head, eyes still trained on the furniture ahead of us.  "He didn't have to tell me anything.  You can tell by her body language."

I'm about to comment on just how sweet of a gesture that truly is, when he beats me to it, poising a question that leaves me in hesitation.

"Is this all for us?"  It's the first time his eyes meet mine and my heart clenches for the young boy.  "Am I going to end up like Rico? And I don't mean the best assassin ever Rico, I mean the one that wanted to kill himself.  Am I going to end up like Dom, Ms. Faith? Like Veleno?"

My chest tightens because I don't have an answer for him.  He isn't a child, per-say.  I can't tell him the answer I know he'll want to hear and be able to walk away, content.  I'm stuck because I can't be honest either—I don't know what the future holds.  But neither responses feel appropriate, so I result to not saying anything at all. 

"Rosie said the Wii has been out since 2006 and I'm just learning about it," He says quietly.  "And that ice-cream Rico wanted me to get from the store? The two white dudes named Ben and Jerry, yeah, well apparently they're super popular and I never heard of them." Crixus lowers his gaze.  He picks at the hem of his shirt.

"If I was normal and went to school, I'd want to do gymnastics," He begins softly.  You can hear the innocence.  All it does is pull at my heart even more.  "I like being in the air.  It's peaceful up there.  Nothing can hurt me up there.  There's no problems up there." Crixus smiles a little and glances over at me, "There's no sadness up there.  I feel free.  You would feel free too if you ever tried it."

I lower my voice to match his.  "Why do you feel free?"

"You're so focused on landing that you don't think about anything else." His smile is gone.  "But I'll never be able to do gymnastics."

I frown, "And why do you think you'll never be able to do gymnastics?  You're fifteen.  You have your whole life ahead of you—"

Crixus shakes his head in clear disagreement.  "No, I don't.  I don't have my whole life ahead of me. The only thing ahead of me is tomorrow because the day after that isn't promised. It'll never be promised, especially for not-normal people like me."

He stands quickly, muttering something about going outside for a second.  I grab hold of his small wrist.  "You can be normal."

He shakes his head once more.  "I think it's too late for me."

"But wh—"

"Because I hear them every night before bed." He answers, refusing to wait for me to finish.

"Who?"

"The screams of everybody I've ever killed."

The boy pulls away from me, pacing quickly towards the exit.  He pauses just long enough to catch my gaze and the look in his eyes tell me everything.  Everything.  He believes his next words with all his heart, with all his soul, and with everything he has.

"It's too late for me, Ms. Faith.  I think it's too late."'

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There is something about Jaiyana that is utterly captivating.  There is something about her that draws your eye to her the moment she enters the room, holds your attention, and leaves you wondering who the hell was that once she leaves.  Watching her assume her role as CEO in an important meeting does just that for me.  I lean against the wall of the largest conference room I've ever seen, one tightly fit pant leg crossed over the other in awe. 

I'm in awe of how she takes questions, answering them and dismissing them without missing a beat.  I'm in awe of how she manages to keep and hold the attention of everyone at the table until their time is up.  I'm in awe of her confidence.  I'm in awe of her ability to lead.  I'm in awe of her.

I can only dream to resemble her enough in my own right that she will one day utter the words, I'm proud of you, Faith.

I'm clapping as soon as the last attendee exits the massive glass doors of the conference room.  It's the first time I've see Zara's smile since she started a half hour ago.  She shakes her head with a sweet laugh, focused on scooping her scattered papers together and inserting them back inside her folder.

The day is going to be a long one.  The clock hung high above Zara's head strikes ten in the morning.  It wouldn't be terrible if I didn't stay up most of the night, engaging in conversation to keep me from another nightmare.  I remember Liam mentioning something about Zara going to the company and getting out the house and I jumped at it.  I thought anything would be better than thinking about a war I'm not sure we'll win.

I put one heel in front the other and approach the table, a smile on my face.  "You have to teach me your ways, ma'am."

Her lazy smile is welcome as I swing a chair out and plop down.  "I can't teach you my ways when I'm not the one who taught them to me."

I lean back in the comfortable chair, a thought crossing my mind.  "You always had to be a little badass, right? There's no way you just woke up one day exerting bad bitch energy.  I refuse to believe it."

She slides the neatly piled papers into her folder and tucks it underneath her arm.  She gives me a look.  "To answer you honestly, I don't remember much about myself before Michael."  A shadow crosses her face as she walks toward me and pulls out my feet.  She nods toward the door.  "Probably the trauma."  I'm not given a second to question her about her statement before she asks, "Where are the others?"

I scoot out my seat, falling in line with her stride as we breeze out the office and into the massive hallway.  Zara nods politely at the receptionist outside.  The woman presses a button near her chair and the elevator doors open briskly, welcoming us as we turn around and hit our desired floor: ground level.

"Liam texted me during your meeting, said they'd be waiting for us in the lobby." I re-read his text again just to confirm.  Vincenzo decided to accompany Liam today.  I know Liam enjoyed the company by the way he smiled when Vincenzo suggested that he wanted to get out the house.  I wasn't sure if Vincenzo really didn't want to stay home, or if he just wanted to be near Zara.

Speaking of, the woman beside me shoots her hand out and jams three fingers into an elevator button—and the machine comes to a terrifying halt midway through our descent.

I don't have time to ask what's wrong.

Her face tells me everything.  "I slept with Vince." She doesn't even give me time to breathe.  "Like I slept with Vince." Her attention darts to me, and the panic is visible.  "I think I'm in love with him."

I say the first thing that comes to mind.  "Damn, was the dick really that—"

She shuts her eyes tight, her sharp jaw clenched.  "Faith Ann," She grounds out.

"Jaiyana Zara, I am so sorry and please excuse my reaction because I'm still a young, recently turned twenty-three-year-old and I promise I will mature with time but for now—" My excited squeal is too much for her ears.  "I love it. I love this so much."

"This isn't okay." It isn't until I hear the panic that I realize how scared she is.  Her eyes search mine for the answer I wish I could give her.  She finds nothing.  "I can't be in love with him—"

I remove her hand from the button stalling the elevator.  We jolt in continuation to the ground floor as I poise a question for her.  "You can't be in love with him because you've spent years convincing yourself that you can't be, or because you truly can't be?"

Her attention lifts to the floor count as we near our destination.  "I think I've convinced myself that I can't."

"And do you think Vince will react badly if you told him how you feel?"

We hit the ground floor and Zara stalls, pressing the button to keep the elevator doors from opening.  She glances at me from over her shoulder.  "No.  He wouldn't react badly.  That's what scares me."

I grab hold of her forearm, easing her hand off the button.  The doors open.  "Talk to him about it.  That's all you can do.  Just talk to him about it.  Tell him how you feel."  We exit the doors, striding towards the two best-dressed men in the room.  I lean towards her one last time, "But personally, I think you've always loved him but because of your situations, you never acted on it.  Maybe the time is finally right."

Liam is the first one to address us.  "I missed you two."

He gives me a hug while Zara dodges his attempt to throw an arm around her shoulder.  "I can hear your stomach growling from here, child.  You just want food and no, we aren't asking the soldiers to stop at a drive-through."

Our laughter sounds like it echoes as we march toward the vast entrance of their company.  Heads turn and conversations lull as we make our way through the foyer.  I'm sure it was a sight for social media, but the other three are so busy wrapped up in their own conversation that they don't focus on the attention we're drawing. 

Liam doesn't see the crowd of people he accidentally glanced towards nearly faint. 

Vincenzo doesn't see a woman to his distant left mouth a word and pull out her phone, capturing the fallen king and his murderous can in what I can only assume is portrait mode.

I catch up to the group as the November sunlight hits our skin.  Our transport is ahead of us, idling in a no parking zone.  The rules don't apply to them.  Tatum stands at the door with Giovanni by his side.  Uniformed soldiers stand on either side of the large steps, making sure our journey from the steps of the company to the car is a safe and successful one.

"Take my hand, mom," Liam says gently.

Zara slips her hand in her sons with a smile as he escorts her down the tall flight.  She lets out a warming laugh.  "I guess Michael did manage to raise a gentle—"

A bullet tears through Zara's forehead.

The only reason her body doesn't hit the ground is because her son was there to catch her.

And just like that, her reign was over.

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