𝖦𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖿 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽. 𝖤𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾; 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗒.
~𝖠𝗇𝗇𝖾 𝖬𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝖫𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖻𝖾𝗋𝗀𝗁~

𝐋𝐢𝐚

The day after my first episode of Children of blood and oil aired, my father called me. I was to go home; all of us were needed. He said it was an emergency.

"Is everything okay?" I asked in a frightened voice. I couldn't bear it if any of the people I loved were anything but okay.

"Don't worry; everyone is alright." I exhaled softly with relief. I knew my father wouldn't lie to me, he might not tell me the entire truth, but he wouldn't tell me everyone was okay if any of them wasn't.

"I'm glad," I told him.

"We saw you on tv yesterday," I smiled, running my fingers through my hair, "you were spectacular," I flushed under his compliment even though he couldn't see me.

Luc had called to congratulate me earlier this morning, and so had my mom and everyone; Sienna was so excited she was designing my website. I was so proud that I had not stopped feeling giddy until this phone call.

"Congratulations, sweetheart. See you later today." He said before disconnecting.

Putting my phone on the bedside table, I hurriedly left, running downstairs to talk to Dev about the phone call. I found him in the kitchen eating a streak and roasted potatoes. He lifted his head when he heard me, setting the fork and knife down.

"Dad called," I told him without preamble. He nodded.

"Do you know what it's about?"

He shook his head.

"Would you tell me if you knew?"

He shook his head again.

"Why not?"

He shook his shoulders nonchalantly, which irritated me.

"Because the boss didn't tell you. That means he saw it fit not to. Why, then, should I tell you?"

"But I wouldn't tell him?"

He shot me an annoyed look, but he didn't say anything else. I guess he thought he didn't have to waste his words with a reply.

"Fine! " I said, sitting beside him. "Don't you ever feel too full when you eat a full meal in the morning?" I asked to change the subject and pacify him because I had somehow offended him with that last question.

"It's healthy to eat a full meal at breakfast," he stated, returning to eating.

"But a steak?"

He shrugged, and we sat side by side without much talk, only the sound of his cutlery.

"When do we leave?"

"Around 4 pm. You won't return here after your appointment.

I nodded. I had a shoot in an hour and a doctor's appointment. It had been a month since I got my contraceptive shot, and I needed to see the gyna again, but that was at 2:30 pm.

I got up from my seat and headed back to the bedroom. I packed a few of my skincare products, a book I was reading, and magnesium supplements I had been taking.

Even though my father had said everyone was okay, I had detected sadness in his voice. Whatever it was, it had made him sad.

Picking up my small bag, I pulled out a pair of sunglasses from the dresser and a watch and left, closing the door behind me.

I couldn't stop thinking about that phone call; something terrible must have happened to have my father sounding sorrowful as he had. I needed to call him back if I was to be productive in my job; I couldn't keep my head straight with this hanging over me.

Dialling up his number, I stood by the stairway, my hand on the rail, waiting for him to pick up.

"Sweetheart, is everything okay?" he asked his tone this time alert and concerned.

"I am, dad," I told him, pausing a little, "is it father Josè?"

"No. He is more than alright; he wants to meet you to ask whether this acting thing is a path to hell.

I chortled, and so did my father.

"I doubt that," I mumbled, starting to walk down the stairs.

"That is exactly what I told him. It's Charlie." Dad said softly.

"Dr Charlie, you mean Dr Orsini's father?" I asked, shocked. He was old, but still, death is so final, so cruel to those left to mourn a loved one.

"Yes," He confirmed. I felt sad for her because I couldn't imagine my father dead. I don't think I could be able to cope.

"Is it okay if I call her? You know, just to send her my condolences?" I knew nothing could make her feel any better, but perhaps a few comforting words would be okay.

"You have her number?" my father sounded suspicious. What exactly did he think my having her number entails?

"Yes. I do. I called her last month because I needed a recommendation for a good gynaecologist. "

He went silent for a bit.

"Why? Were you sick?

If I answered yes to that question, Dev's head would probably be on a platter in less than an hour for not reporting that I had been sick, which reminded me that I had not been honest with him when I booked that appointment.

"No, dad. I wasn't. I needed a slight check-up."

"For what?" he persisted.

I couldn't just come out and say I wanted birth control prescription.

"Evey girl requires an occasional visit to a gyna, dad."

"Oh, that's good. Keep yourself healthy."

"I have to go now; I have another one today and a shoot."

"Okay, sweetheart. See you tonight."

"Bye," I said, hearing the disconnecting tone.

"Dad told me it's Dr Charlie," I told Dev the minute I spotted him by the door, his face upward, his eyes closed. He nodded but didn't move.

"What are you doing?"

"I am letting the sun caress my face. "

"It's dangerous. You're going to look like a burnt Liver.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. But not today. Come on; we have a lot to do today."

I stood by the driveway, waiting for him to bring out the car. Once he did, I threw my small bag at the back and slid in front of him.

He gave me a side-eye. "I don't want to sit at the back. People think you're my driver." I complained, making myself comfortable.

"I am your driver," he affirmed, his upper body leaning forward, "I know, but you're more than that," I added softly.

"I'm your bodyguard too."

"Yes, but you're also my uncle. We have the same genes somewhat."

He gave me a soft, tiny smile. "Thank you for remembering, but you're still sitting at the back."

"Come on, Dev, please." I implored, giving him the best desperate look that I could manage.

"No. You're safe at the back."

"Please..." I pleaded, still seated with no intention of budging.

"Lia, there is a reason you're supposed to sit at the back. Security reasons. You can't just wake up one morning and decide to change anything regarding your security."

"But...I mean. It's just fo.." he cut me off.

"Do you know why your dad wants you for a funeral of a man you're not even emotionally connected to?"

I shook my head.

"Because every don will know where your father, Rom, and Bruno will be in the next few days. It's the perfect time to try and kidnap one of you because some of your security will be withdrawn to protect the three in such a public space. And by the time they get the chance, they won't have much bargaining power.

"I shrank in my seat, a little embarrassed that I was ready to jeopardise my security for a petty reason.

"You're about to be a big star now. Everyone expects you to have security and a driver. "

I nodded, opening the door so I could sit at the back. Once I was belted up, Dev looked at me through the rear mirror, "Lia," I moved my head so I could look at him too; our eyes met on the mirror, "you owe no one an explanation as to why you constantly have me. Don't explain me; you don't have to. You come from a strong man and equally, though different, stronger woman. This is a new world for you, for me too, but you don't have to follow most rules; make yours."

"Okay," I said, and Dev started the car. We drove through the traffic in silence, but I could feel his eyes on me through the rearview mirror.

"I'm alright, Dev," I told him.

While we were in traffic, I got a call from the doctor's office asking whether I was in a position to come earlier, now if possible because the doctor had an emergency meeting this afternoon.

My first reaction was panic. I would be going home tonight, I would have no time for another shot before I met with Luc again. But we could use condoms, I thought, checking the time on my watch. I sighed when I confirmed I still had time before the shoot.

"Now is good. I'm on the way."

The assistance thanked me and then disconnected the call.

I told Dev about the change of plans, he nodded, and then changed the lane. We did not speak again until we arrived at the hospital parking space, "I won't be long, just a few minutes." I mumbled, waiting for him to open my door. His lecture reminded me to stick to the rules, one of which was to never get out of the car before he opened the door.

"I will walk with you. "

He did. I stopped at the doctor's administration office so they could check and pull out my information. Once this was done, the doctor's assistant smiled at me and told me to sit for a few minutes so she could alert the doctor.

I didn't have to wait for long, nor did administering the birth control. I was done so quickly that we were early for the shoot.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
                            𝐋𝐮𝐜
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I didn't know Dr Charlie that much; I've met him twice since he returned to Italy when he retired too old to continue practising medicine. I knew his daughter recommended a gynaecologist for Lia, but nothing much to tell about a man who was about to pull out one of the most powerful families to his funeral. 

They loved him. I could tell that much when my father called to inform me of the funeral arrangement and the importance of my attendance.

When my training ended that evening, I didn't shower; I waved to Matteo to bring the car to the front; I was eager to see my family, though if I was honest, I missed Lia the most.

"What's the hurry?" Matteo smirked, pausing to glance at me. He knew, damn him.

"I want to see my mother. What is wrong with that?"

"Nothing. Neither is it wrong to miss your girlfriend."

"Shut up!"

He laughed as he drove out of the training centre.

When our helicopter landed, another one was on the helipad; I knew they were home. I almost ran to the house like a small boy running for promised treats. But I stopped myself.

I saw my dad first. He was leaning on the wall, a cigarette at the corner of his mouth, his eyes half closed. My heart shrank because the image of him like that told me more than I needed to know—he was mourning.

"You're home," my uncle Rom said, even though he wasn't looking at me when he said it. I saw him turn, a slight smile touching his lips, a glass of whiskey in one hand.

"Yes," I said gently. He walked to me, looked straight into my eyes, and touched the side of my neck, "good", he added, then kissed my cheek.

I have never seen them this sad. I'm sure they've experienced sorrowful events, like when aunt Mia was kidnapped, which must have been frustrating and depressing, especially for uncle Rom, but I have not seen them this destroyed in my lifetime.

"Luc," uncle Raph called, I had not seen him yet. I followed his voice, and there he was, seated on the ground with one leg up, tousled hair, and a bottle of whiskey beside him. "You look good. Doesn't he look good, B?" he asked, looking at my father who'd walked halfway to where I stood.

"He sure does." My father said, pulling me into his arms. "It's good to see you son. " he whispered. I exhaled softly, comfortably laying my head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I told him. He didn't ask for what. He knew.

I was sorry they had lost someone so dear to them. He must have been an exceptional man because these three could never mourn just anybody.