Sometimes all a person wants is an empathetic ear; all he or she needs is to talk it out. Just offering a listening ear and an understanding heart for his or her suffering can be a big comfort.
~Roy T. Bennett~

𝐋𝐮𝐜

The sun woke me up. It peeked through the curtains, caressing my face. Slowly opening my eyes, I turned to look at Lia sleeping beside me, her face beneath her hand propped on the pillow covered in a silky gold pillowcase.

I found myself replaying our conversation yesterday before we both fell asleep. I couldn't help but smile at how she'd declared her love for me. However, as soon as the smile appeared, it disappeared. I remembered too, that she had invited Max for Christmas.

Leaning my head down, I kissed her forehead, watching closely as her eyes fluttered open. "Hi," She mumbled, her sleepy voice making my heart race.

"Wake up. I need to tell you something before we go down for breakfast."

"Oh. Is something wrong?" she asked in a soft voice, shifting to sit up. I lean in to press my lips to her left cheek, bringing her attention right to me which is what I wanted.

"You said you invited Max for Christmas." Her gaze widened a little, struggling to keep it on my face while sleep still floated around her eyes.

"They will never agree to that," I told her, touching the corner of her mouth with my fingers.

"But they know all about him," she argued, finally alert, her brain now awake and functioning.

"Doesn't matter. Lia, try to remember how much they have always, consistently told us not everyone should have access to this house. Anyone you've seen here is either family or thoroughly vetted. Max doesn't qualify."

"So, he can't come?" her disappointed sad face got to me. I watched her slide down into the bed with her eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"Why do you even care about this fucker?" I asked almost in anger. The guy drugged, kidnapped and would have done much worse if she hadn't been rescued on time.

"I don't know. Maybe I felt the sadness in his voice, his sobs, the hiccups between sentences. I just pity him, Luc."

This was the difference between Lia and me. She had empathy, I didn't. I was only capable of feeling sympathy for the people I loved. Anyone else can go cry to God for all I cared.

"Fine. Get up, we need to talk to them before they leave."

She jerked up, her stare filled with curiosity, a tiny grin flirting on her lips.

"You think you can convince them?"

I rolled my eyes at her, "No."

The shine in her gaze dimmed. "Then what?"

"We take Max to father Josè," I mumbled jumping off the bed and dragging her into my arms, the feel of her in my arms a reminder of what my body wanted and craved.

"We take him to Italy?"

I nodded.

"Which means we need to tell them why, and we also need their permission to leave."

It's not exactly the permission we required, but to inform them. One of the rules was that we must, at all times tell them our movements especially if we were travelling in or out of countries.

"Okay. She mumbled, sliding off my body, and then planting a kiss on my lips before running towards the door.

"I will shower in my room," she said, but before she could open the door, I called her name.

"I will pick up Max from his house without you."

She frowned. Her expression puzzled, she asked, "Why?"

I shrugged. "I don't want you to be there when I meet him for the first time.

"Again, why?"

"Because I don't want you defending him every minute of every second within the first few moments we meet each other."

"I wouldn't do that."

I raised an eyebrow, and she huffed.

"Will you be alone with Matteo?" I could tell she knew the answer to that.

"So the three of you will be there to harass him? Can't you go alone?"

I smirked, "a man needs his brothers."

"You know Nicolo will have a field day tormenting him, don't you?"

I cackled, watching her from across the room.

"He is sixteen, how harmful can he be?"

"He is a menace and you know that. He is going to mess with his brain. I swear that boy can be a sycophant. And don't get me started on Zion with his brooding aura staring him down with menacing vicious eyes."

"At least you know we can't hurt him," I say it like a consolation because it is. We couldn't hurt him, he had received his punishment and a promise that nobody from our family would hurt him again for the wrong he had done against Lia.

"Luc," her soft, gentle, quivering voice wipes the grin from my face. I look at her, and she scans my face with her eyes slowly, attentively like she wants to leave some marks.

"I know how much you want to dismember him. I understand why you want Zion and Nic with you, and I want you to know that I appreciate your restraint."

I nodded, and she ambled towards me until she stood within touching distance.

"You know what Uncle Rom told me after the incident?"

I shook my head, staring at her upturned face.

"Your love for me, or my love for you should never be a reason to doubt your leadership. You are my boss as much as you are for the others. So I agree with your decision."

I smiled.

"That doesn't mean I will follow you blindly, he did mention that I'm smart enough to tell you when I think your decision might be wrong. "

"This one isn't wrong, right?"

Her lips stretched in a small smile.

"I don't like it. But it's not wrong."

"Kiss me before you go." She did, standing on her tiptoe, her hands holding onto my arms.

"See you at breakfast. " then she left.

I exhaled slowly as I walked to the bathroom, my heart thudding with anticipation, curiosity and a little fear that I might lose it when I come face to face with Maxwell.

That's why I wanted Nic and Zion with me. I knew they would keep me from exploding and beating the fuck out of Max, or shoot both his legs, maim him so he would be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

After I took a shower, I wore black jeans, a white T-shirt, and a brown moto jacket with brown Chelsea ankle boots.

When I went down for breakfast, our dads were there seated together taking black coffee, and our moms huddled together, giggling probably talking about one of us. I stood beside my dad, cutting a small piece of his bread which I realized, was still fresh from the oven, warm and delicious.

"Good morning, Luc." Aunt Mia greeted. She was the first one to raise her head since she was seated, her feet taking two seats while my mom and Aunt Sophie stood directly opposite her.

"Did you sleep well?" my mom asked in a concerned tone. They knew Lia and I were fighting, though they didn't know why.

"Yeah. Lia and I talked. "

She nodded, then added, "Why were you fighting?"

"Miscommunication," I replied, shifting a little to sit beside my father. The men didn't speak, they continued to eat their breakfast as if they had no idea what we were talking about.

"That's great. Communication is important in a relationship." Aunt Sophie said, throwing a glare at her husband who did his best not to look in her direction.

These were dangerous men afraid to face their wives' questioning glares.

"Lia and I would like to speak to you before you leave," I told the men in a whisper, but of course, the women heard. It was like they were attuned to our voices.

"What about us?" my mom asked, sounding almost sad, like we were deliberately leaving them out of our conversation, which in a way, we were.

There is a huge part of our lives that our mothers will never be part of.

"It's not about our relationship or anything like that, it's business."

"How come we are always excluded in these business meetings?"

I didn't answer, and neither did the men. They took it as a rhetorical question. The women have never been part of the business, a part of me thinks they like it that way. They married into a dark world, we were born into it. That was a huge difference.

The others poured into the kitchen after a few minutes, bringing the conversation to a halt. Once we were done, Lia and I followed the patriarchs to their home office, our separating distance giving Lia and me a few minutes to speak under our breath.

"Okay. Talk."

Was it possible they knew what we were about to say? Their faces gave nothing away. "Are you not curious about what we want to tell you?" Lia asked, sitting on the couch nearest to the door.

"We assume it's about Maxwell."

Lia's eyes shot up, jerking her head up to look at Uncle Rom, surprise covering her dark orbs.

"You're forgetting rules, sweetheart. Don't ever show your feeling so blatantly. I can read your thoughts right now." He added with a fond smile.

"What about Maxwell?" her father asked, sitting down behind a huge mahogany desk, a beautifully carved cheetah made of solid onyx baring its fangs placed on his right.

A deadly animal, perhaps symbolic of what the men were.

"He called me," Lia stated silently, nervously waggling in her seat.

"Why?"

"He wanted someone to talk to. Someone who understands what he is going through."

"But you don't." her father muttered, with no empathy whatsoever. Just a factual statement.

"I know. That's why I suggested father José. He can help him deal with the loss."

"Why do you care? The man would have violated you if you didn't have a tracking device on you."

More like tracking devices. Small micro trackers inside necklaces, watches and dress rings.

"I know Dad. I know. But I can't stand by and watch him fall to his death if I can help him. Please."

"Luc, what do you think?"

"I honestly don't care if he throws himself off a balcony somewhere out of grief, but Lia does."

"He was crying when he called me."

My father chortled, throwing his head on the top rail.

"How is he going to meet Father Josè?" Uncle Rom asked, all of them daring us to say this house.

"Not here, of course."

"Damn straight not here."

"We can take him to Italy."

"Maxwell can't leave the country. Have you forgotten he is still under  investigation,?"

"How do you know he can't leave?" I asked, leaning forward, my eyes on my father's face. Sometimes I wonder whether we would ever be ready to take their places.

"We like to keep our eyes on everyone that touches our lives. Unfortunately for Max, he is on our radar until we are convinced he is not a threat to the family."

"How can he be when he can't speak coherently without breaking down?"

"Scared people can be dangerous too. Don't ever forget that." My father earnestly said, moving his eyes between Lia and me.

"Help us." Lia pleaded, and I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Help me," she corrected, grinning.

They looked at her, stared at her. Three sets of eyes, judging, and evaluating her until she started to fidget.

"Okay. We will get him seventy-two hours. You better make sure he is back within that timeline. Do you understand that?"

"Perfectly," Lia replied with a smile.

"We leave For Italy today at 6 pm. " I said.

"I saw Uncle Rom pick a pen and write something on a piece of paper. "This is where he is hiding from the media."

"The jet should be ready. We assume you'll all be leaving?"

I nodded, then added, "But only Zion, Nic and I will pick him up."

The three of them threw me conspiratorial grins, and I could tell they liked the plan. They knew why I did not want Lia with me. 

They were so good at this, the network they managed to amass over the years was about to be used to buy Maxwell time out of the country.

***********************************
Max is about to meet the younger versions of the patriarchs. Wish him luck.

1) don't forget to vote
2) comment
3) Share if you can.

Thank You for reading. ❤️
************************************