𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐫.                                      ~𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐚~

𝐋𝐢𝐚

"Everybody get in the car. Now." The voices were filled with panic, and dread as we all scrambled to get into our respective cars, the sound of cocking guns felt as loud as the beating of my heart.

"Oh, my God! You're bleeding!" I whispered. You're bleeding!" I said again, this time yelling, forgetting my gun and looking at Luc's forearm. But even while he was shot, his right hand was at the steering wheel reversing our car.

"No time to worry about that right now, sit down, and belt up!" it was the first time I ever heard Luc sound like that —a mixture of terror, anger, vindictiveness—his usually handsome face marred with a look as vicious as what I imagined the devil might wear on every occasion.

There is something to be said about abrupt change in someone, not just normal change, but that which comes with a shift change of personality. It makes you uncertain. That is how I felt about Luc. He was different, the hard set of his jaw was evidence enough that he will never be the same again and I was afraid of not knowing how to handle it.

But then again, I was Lia Boselli. I wasn't brought up to sit in a corner and let a man protect me. I could protect myself, and so I did what I thought was right instead of doing what Luc had commanded. I was still belted up, but my mind was on a marathon as we sped off towards Tripple B offices.

"Max, I need you to tear up your shirt so I can tie up Luc's arm. Matteo, change seats with me." I said quickly, looking at Max who was staring at me like a deer in headlights. Scared to even speak. His were eyes filled with utter panic, if I wasn't scared for Luc, I would have felt at least sorry for him. I didn't have the time for such sentiments so I repeated the request, this time it was more of a command, but it was lost in Luc and Matteo's decisive tone

"No. You seat where you are." They said at the same time.

"Max, do it or I will do it for you." Max did not blink, but a solitary tear slipped down his left eye. He did not move either, I watched him sitting still, unmoving, frightened with shaky hands as he tried to reach his shirt but his hands dropped like he had no strength.

"It's fine Lia. We are almost there." Matteo told me. I swiftly turned my head to take a look at Luc's arm, his blood dripping down the armrest, his shirt crimson red and my heart ached.

Luckily, we arrived at the company's gate and the security flagged the procession of our cars, all of us driving into the underground parking.

Luc let out a sigh of relief, leaning his head on the headrest. I didn't waste any time, I jumped out of the car, running to the driver's side, and impatiently knocking on the window to prompt him to open the door.

He slid it down the window instead of opening the door, our eyes locking. I could see the pain he couldn't hide from me. I reached my hand inside to open the door myself, took his unhurt hand and pulled him out of the car.

"Are you okay?" Everybody asked as they surrounded us.

"He is not," I mumbled, pulling him towards the stairs that would lead us to the rooftop.

"He must be in pain," I said, throwing a glance at the bleeding hand. We need to tie it up." Matteo nodded, taking the lead for us to follow. We flew home. It was imperative that we get out of open areas, of rather easily accessible location and our home in Italy was as secure as our main.

"When we arrived, Matteo took a first aid kit, but first I handed Luc a glass of brandy.

"Give me the damn bottle," His voice sounds rasp, and I move my eyes to his, gazing at those green eyes that now looked lifeless. He is in pain, I could tell, but he did not want to show it to the others. He was their leader, a don in waiting. This was what was expected, play off the pain as if being a fucking Don meant he ceased to be human.

Assiduously, Matteo tried to successfully pull out the bullet, clean out the wound, and finally wrap it up carefully, gently which I'm sure Luc appreciated.

When he was done, I leaned against Luc, kissing his temple. I couldn't help it, my heart was still galloping at a fast rate at how easy it could have been to lose him.

"I love you," I whisper to his ear so only he heard me, I feel him go still and then relax. It was as if my words caught him by surprise even though I couldn't understand why. I have told him these words more than once.

"I will be fine." He announced as he stood, and I move aside to allow him to proceed me. We were all worried about him but of all of us, Maxwell was the only one who was still in fear, like he expected the shooters to appear brandishing their guns at any moment.

"They are waiting," Dev said from the top of the stairs. Luc prodded ahead of us, with me following closely behind him. When we entered the huge home office, Luc hesitated at the door, I'm not sure why, then proceeded to walk inside choosing to sit next to my father's seat. Even in his absence, as long as he was alive, nobody would seat on it.

In silence, other than tension and weak sigh, nobody spoke until all of us were seated.

In a deep rumbly voice, my father asked, "Other than Luc, was anyone else hurt?"

We watched them in the conference call, their faces inscrutable, even our mothers sat still in fear and helplessness.

"No," Luc mumbled.

"Oh, my God, Rom, I can't see Nic." Aunt Mia's trembling voice cut through the room, her near-tearful tone broke my already aching heart.

"I can see his hair behind Zion. Nicolo, sit in a damn chair." Uncle Rom demanded. Nic suddenly stood, "Yes sir. Sorry, Mom."

"Before we start this meeting, someone escorts Maxwell out of the room. Make sure he gets back into the country before his deadline. Is that clear?" I could tell by our mom's gasp that none of them had noticed him. They were all so scared for us that they had not noticed him.

"Why is Max with you?" my mother asked.

"It's a long story, Cara." my father answered, shifting his eyes to rest on her face for a second or so.

"We have time," she whispered, staring as Donato, Russo, Zion and Serena's bodyguards escorted Maxwell out just as we heard the deafening sound of a helicopter landing.

"That's the doctor," uncle Bruno said when we all started springing up at the sound. "The pilot will fly Maxwell out and Jesús people will take care of the rest.

"What happened?" Luc's mother asked before the men started to interrogate us. Her eyes are fixed on Luc's arm, luckily, Matteo had done quite a good job cleaning him up, and the hoodie he had on now covered more of what would have probably tipped his mother to tears.

"We were attacked outside Father Josè's church," Luc answered. His voice sounded normal, not like someone with a fresh gunshot wound.

"On your way in or out?" Uncle Rom asked.

"Out," Luc answered, his mouth curling in a wry grimace.

"Who knew of your plans other than those you told us?"

We found ourselves shaking our heads

"So it's either Maxwell, Eli, or Jackson?" The last one was the other of Dino's friends.

"Did any of you see any of the shooters or cars' descriptions?" my father asked glancing at the side. It took me a moment to realize they were in the room Luc and I were taken before we attended our first official meeting with the patriarchs.

"Whoever shot me was hanging out in a black SUV. He had an undercut, a streak of blue hair on his right side and a gold cross earring.

One of the men who had been present at the monitors during that meeting sat across from our parents. I did not know why our mothers were there. What led to them being in that particular room, all I knew was that the men must have been terrified when they received the call that we had been shot at and Luc had a bullet in his arm.

This was a nightmare for them even though they must have known something like this might happen to us someday.

"This is Carlo," My dad explained, " he is going to dig up our database to find whether we have someone with that description though we only know of a temporary description. Hairstyles change frequently but the earring may be a permanent fixture, perhaps a symbol." he added in a low tone.

"Luc, are you in pain?" his mother asked when she got the opportunity from our chipping into the men's questioning.

"No, Mama. I'm okay. Matteo did a great job, plus Lia shoved a bottle of brandy to my hand."

"I gave you a glass, you demanded the whole bottle," I muttered archly. He chuckled, giving me a playful look. His mother's forehead lost the creases, but her eyes remained troubled.

"I suspect Romigi," I said, and my father gave me an amused look. "You're allowed to hate someone, but you cannot, under any circumstances suspect someone for such a huge incident without proof." I knew he was right. I understood the fundamentals of how this works, however, I could never forget him talking about young boys and girls like they existed to be traded, sold to satisfy the pleasures of old, despicable, revolting men with money, wealth and connections. I wanted him dead, my father knew of this bloodthirsty need to finally do the world a favour and take him out of it.

The doctor entered with Donato and Russo, his medical bag in his right hand.

Luc stood to move away from the camera so the doctor can have a look at his wound, but his mother, in a decisive tone told him to stay where he was.

"I need to see it too."

"It's just a scratch, mama. No need to give everyone a bad day by looking at a fresh wound."

"We have already had our day. I guarantee none of us here haven't seen a fresh would. " I felt as if his mother was about to snap.

"Mom," Luc's soft, gentle voice prompted his mother, holding his hurt arm to keep the doctor from unwrapping it in front of his mother's eyes.

"Do I look stupid to you, Luc?" she asked. "Do you think I need to be placated like I'm a child?" His mom's voice deepened in an angry tone, the noticeable frown on her face turning into a full scowl.

"No, ma'am."

Nobody spoke on either side, even the men said nothing.

Once the doctor unwrapped his wound, the women gasped, their hands automatically covering their mouths perhaps to keep from crying out. I know I wanted to curse out loud.

"Can he heal well enough to race again?" his father asked, and I felt Luc's body stiffen.

"Is that important right now?" his mother accused, glaring at Uncle Bruno. "Don't bite my head off, Tesoro. It's what he wants to know himself even though he is a little afraid to ask right now."

"I don't see why he couldn't, " the doctor replied, looking deep into the hideous wound, my hand, which I had not noticed, rested comfortably on Luc's thigh.

"We will be there by morning, in the meantime, none of you should get out of that house. And while Lia wants to kill Romigi, I don't think he is involved. But we need to confirm that before we can conclude anything. Everyone is a suspect, including all your grandfathers except one of them."

"I think I got a similar match from Luc's description," Carlo exclaimed, interrupting what my father was about to say next, an image of a young man with a tattoo on the left side of his neck and a gold earring popping up on the screen.

"That's him. No undercut or blue in his hair, but that's definitely him." Luc confirmed.

"Well," Uncle Rom said. "That fucking son of a bitch."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Lia. It's not Romigi." my dad sighed, almost sounding melancholic.

"Stay safe. We'll be there when you wake up." And they disconnected, pretty quickly, which was so timely that I figured it was to keep our mothers from starting their own litany of questioning about how we feel, whether we are afraid, do we need anything. I felt a little sad for them because every part of this life will require our fathers and not them. I know that they must feel a bit helpless and a little useless that nothing they could do for us in situations like this could ever equal what their husbands could. I couldn't wait to hug my mother, affirm and reaffirm to her that I will always need her no matter what.

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Sorry I've been MIA
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