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NOTE:
Hi guys! Welcome to chapter eight of How Far We Go! Here is some clarification, it's mainly for me though so I don't forget. lol. So Vulia's father (Falandre) was French hence her last name so she can speak and understand French. Calix is Italian but occasionally he will use French phrases because of Vulia. His full name is Calix Accettola but he goes by Calix Ace. Vulia is the only one who calls him Ace occasionally and she's probably the only one who he'd allow to do so. Anywho I hope you enjoy this chapter and if so don't forget to vote, comment, and share. Also, my sincerest apologies for the delayed update life happened.

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0 8 | How Far We Go

C A L I X  A C E

Calix had lost his footing in the strategy he once clung to. There was a lack of analytical analysis when he called his men to emerge a massacre on 18th street. There was no longer gradual patience when it came to Delano. He had to act and he did. When River reported that it had been a complete demolition, an eccentric inspiration cracked at Calix's mind. His men delivered and all of Delano's men on that street had fallen like flies. One by one. An eye for an eye. Bloodshed and complete absence of mercy. Amusement sparked his irises, but his face remained stone. It was supposed to feel like a victory, but this had only been the beginning of an inescapable war and one of the men would eventually fall. It was a matter of who'd blink first.

The clock ticked alongside the fury which boiled in him. Tick. Tick. Tick. The rage severed a piece of his soul, making him writhe with insanity. Tick. Tick. Tick. Shrouds of disassociation clamored into the room, tearing a man from the shell of his body. Tick. Tick. Tick. Nothing but a shell. Nothing but a body. Nothing but an essence that exuded bitterness, bellowing out of him like familiarity. Like easy comfort. His eyes traveled toward the dark sky outside his window to find it suffocated by nature; clouds filled the space, the navy, the desolation. He harkened to the night, a million secrets trapped behind those clouds. Because those saints and devils haunted the night with eerie whispers. Far too gentle, far too benign, but just as horrific.

The silence dipped all while he envisioned their screams and pleas. Those which belonged to the unearthed. He saw it so clearly; the blanket of darkness infiltrated their sights before they seeped into nothingness. A cold, jarring nothingness that'd meet Delano Amour too. Calix was sure of it. So sure that it had possessed his dreams and nightmares.

And finally, he escaped to his bedroom and allowed sleep to overtake him for as long as it'd be allowed. And in a matter of hours, he was up and so was the sun. It was like he hadn't truly rested at all, the nightmares ebbing at his consciousness as usual. Not only did it pirouette the metaphysical, but it manifested into the physical, too.  And it was so easy for the dead and unseen to fuck with his mind and shred his reverie. A knock sounded at his bedroom door. Calix assumed the knock either belonged to Eryn, River, or Maverick in which case he responded with a low and gruff, "What?"

"You have a meeting with the Don of Russia, Isaak."

The voice belonged to Lachlan, someone who acted as Calix's consigliere, an adviser. He only stepped in if Maverick and River hadn't relayed any news or if neither of them had been present. Lachlan was more aware than most of Calix's men, but never more knowledgeable than his brothers because trust wasn't a sweetness granted to everyone.

The meeting was scheduled months ago since Maverick proposed it. An ally, a strong one at that. The plan had been to meet Isaak in a "public" place and the perfect place was Nightcap. Nightcap was an exclusive bar owned by Eryn. Most of the time Calix's soldiers and associates loitered around there. Occasionally friends of friends would meddle in the space but it was never someone Calix hadn't been aware of or had at least two conversations with.

Everything had been in place. Calix would meet him there tonight. Isaak couldn't try anything because he hadn't known that he'd be in the midst of danger, an inevitable death waiting for him if he fucked Calix over. He had learned from his mistake when Snake slithered into the picture only to have worked for Delano. How did Calix miss that? And because he did many of his men died. There was no one to blame but Calix's lack of awareness. He should have known. He should have fucking sensed it. And now he had to make Delano pay.

He forced himself out of bed and made his way to his bathroom. Threads of gold tamed his tan skin, a canopy of sun swallowing the shadows. He was sheered with light as if a daunting phosphorus sensation had ignited his skin. Only for a moment, the beams scorched and reminded him of the cold reality he existed in. Flakes of heat gnawed and twisted like limbs among calloused flesh. Then it disappeared as he escaped into the bathroom, void of windows. At that moment, the shower would be his serenity.

The water cascaded like rounding ash, sticking to his body as a palette of oceanic spews. His body succumbed to the warmth and the melting steam. His breathing synchronized with the way the steam distorted into clouds around him. Droplets of water danced wildly down his body as if transcending him. All of it swallowed his thoughts and in that intensity, time was a speckled illusion and he fled from it. Not because he needed to, but because he had to.

His fingers gripped the lever of the shower, turning the water off. A towel lingered on a rack near the wall and he wrapped it around his torso before stepping into his room once more. The cold stormed his body like a sickness, staining his skin and instilling shivers as he searched for clothes. Finally, after a couple of minutes, he was ready. Ready in every meaning of the word.

Calix wasn't usually a morning drinker, however, circumstances had shifted and he found himself clambering swimmingly toward his office where strategy awaited him. The whiskey burned like stars on his tongue, a supernova imploding his throat and blazing his notions. He collected a seat on top of his desk, drink in hand, and his mind concentrated on several things. First, the alliance he had planned to forge with Isaak. Then, how he would retaliate when Delano struck again, assuming he would. The probability of Calix's assumption was always more than likely, so there was no doubt that he would strike.

This time, though, taking Snake out would be in his best interest. Maybe then Delano would listen, right before that final bullet penetrated his skull and left him lifeless. He'd have every reason to surrender and merely the thought satisfied Calix. A knock was heard at his door before he allowed the person to enter. It was Lachlan once again.

"He's going to be there at ten tonight, sir," Lachlan confirmed. "Maverick also wanted me to let you know that Vulia Amour may make an appearance. Eryn has befriended her best friend, Thisbe."

This piece of information made Calix meet Lachlan's brown gaze as if it were a fib that slipped from his mouth. She wasn't supposed to be there and why the hell was Eryn still plotting behind his back in regards to Vulia?

"Where is Eryn?"

"Temptation, but she will be there at Nightcap."

"No," was Calix's domineering reply. "No, she won't."

"Yes sir."

And that exchange was enough for both parties to untangle the circumstances that were meant to occur.

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Calix resided on the sofa in the distant corner with some of his men. All of them appeared with watchful eyes, surveying the area every chance they got. A few feet before them was the piano that no one had played since Calix's arrival. He was sure the relation of that absence had been because of his presence. It was difficult to please a man like Calix so it made sense why no one wanted to step forward.

And then a familiar face struck silence among his lips. An indescribable yearning took control of his body language. As if lighting cracked between his fists, his gaze slid to Vulia Amour's dark eyes in Nightcap. In his own trenchant eyes, he saw the way interludes fumbled into the air by the grace of her movements. Then he saw the tenderness which infiltrated her essence, then her eyes before they shot and claimed the piano after a moment. She hadn't noticed him, nor had she been aware of the danger of the situation. If he hadn't been there he was sure something could have happened.

He had moved, though, before he could think. His body called to hers before his mind could catch up. When he separated from her, leaving that bathroom, he was breathless and drunk off her delicious presence. A presence that gripped his neck and choked the sanity from his body. A lethal drug consumed him and her name was Vulia Amour. He was completely dizzy, stars blazing at his fingertips and fire burning against his skin. An intoxicating heat buzzed loudly within him and envy boiled.

At that moment he was jealous of every man who had touched her or grazed her presence. He was jealous of the sun that beamed down and clung to her skin. He was jealous of the air she breathed and the way it filled her lungs. Fuck, Calix wanted to be the only thing she breathed. He wanted to be the only name she knew, the only soul she recognized. The thought of being anything else made him fume like a grenade. He tightened his fists at the thought. Then a different reality colored his consciousness as one of his men called to him.

Calix's gaze cut to the entrance where an overweight, white guy with a scar on his chin and a poorly shaved buzz cut was mean-mugging anyone who had the misfortune of being in his presence. Calix knew without a doubt it was Isaak. In the fucking flesh and he wasn't alone. Smart man. He was still undoubtedly outnumbered despite the posse of men who accompanied him, but it was clear that Isaak was no fool.

He approached Calix and his men. A certain aura of confidence lingered around him and something in Calix wanted to crush any premature notions Isaak had conceived of the scenario. Calix rose to his feet, towering over Isaak like a tree. It was merely a power move,

"You didn't come alone," Calix stated. "Smart man."

Isaak nodded and collected a seat.

"Let's talk business," he said with a thick accent. Calix responded with a sly smile and collected a seat at an angle from Isaak. The mere thing separating Isaak and Calix was Calix's men who loitered the sofa and surrounded the space with keen eyes. Isaak's men were on high alert too. Though their presence was much further, they clung to Isaak like he was the air they breathed.

"Cut to the chase then," Calix urged, keeping his gaze on Isaak and his movements.

"Protection," Isaak stated. "Protection for whenever my men are in the States and you'll get the same."

Calix liked to think he was a fair man, but when it came to negotiating with Mafia men he always wanted to give them a run for their money. How far could he push them? How far would he push Isaak? Were his intentions aligned with Calix? Every mafia man wants power there was no doubt about that. They want to drown in it and that is the danger of forming alleyships. So the challenge was uncovering what Isaak wanted. To do that he needed to see if Isaak's loyalty aligned with the Italian mafia.

"I could offer you more than protection," Calix offered, leaning forward and dangling his hands between his legs. His face remained serious. "How about territory in exchange for your men's security?"

"I don't want your territory. I have enough of that here and back in Russia," Isaak announced to him. "What I want to know is how can I trust that you won't screw my men and me over?"

"You can't," Calix admitted and Isaak narrowed his eyes for a moment.

After a while, his face softened and he said, "An honest man is a great one."

Isaak extended his hand toward Calix.

"I don't shake hands," Calix shared and Isaak released a hearty laugh. The rest of his men joined in laughing, but Calix's face remained stoic.

"Don't fuck me over and you have my loyalty."

"Likewise," Calix agreed. His jaw was clenched and he broke his gaze with Isaak to scout out the bar again. His eyes landed on Vulia. She was sitting at the bar laughing with the bartender and her friend. He should have stayed where he was. He should have let her be because otherwise, she could have a target on her back. He should have kept his distance, but something divine lured him toward her without word or reasoning. She was at the back of his mind since their exchange in the bathroom. It was so fucking treacherous.

Her words were like sirens, ringing in his ears over and over and over again. It was treacherous, an ode to a chilling heart. It made it drum harder, nevertheless, and soothe his notions like milk to spice. His lips ached to bewitch and challenge it because there was such a thin line between love and hate. He wanted to fuck the hate out of her. He wanted her to be so full of him that those two words were interchangeable in their meaning. That hate was merely a disguise for love. That hate could mitigate violence, too, just as love sprouted tenderness.

"We should celebrate with drinks," Isaak insisted. Calix rose without thought and Isaak followed alongside him. It wasn't Isaak's words that redirected Calix, no, it was his mind. Maybe it was his soul. Calix was a few seats down from Vulia. Isaak resided right next to him. Silence ebbed between them until Isaak ordered drinks. Calix's attention was steered elsewhere the entire time. He tried with everything in him to keep eye contact to a minimum.

Still, he cast sly glances in Vulia's direction. She had been so oblivious and that made it all the more fascinating. There was something so enticing about her being. Sweet cruelty soaked Calix's eyes as nothing else cursed his attention. She hadn't noticed him. It was either that or she was choosing to ignore his presence entirely and all he could think of was being near her.

"She yours?" Isaak intervened, garbling down his shot like water. Something dark shifted in his bright eyes when he looked at Isaak. It was like Isaak had screamed bloody murder. His words were like a light switch because he had made it clear that Calix was staring too hard or too frequently. It didn't take rocket science to assume that Calix's men must have picked up on the sighting either. Although Calix was a discrete man, he wasn't precisely discrete with that.

"No," he shared and downed his shot. "Come with me. I think we should discuss the terms more privately. Don to Don."

Calix left his drink and led Isaak to a door on the other side of the bar. He opened it and walked into a small, tight-knit office—Eryn's office to be exact. Issak closed the door behind him and waited for Calix to sit in the chair but that never came. He remained standing, towering over Isaak and as intimidating as ever.

"Do you think I'm fucking stupid?" Calix questioned. After a moment of no response, Calix spoke again. "You have ties with the French mafia."

Isaak remained silent.

"Answer me," he demanded calmly. The room was placid, quiet enough to hear a pen drop. Everything besides those two men had been so loud. Then Isaak let out one of his hearty laughs.

"We are working for the same side. We just have different objectives," he said and a loud ear-shattering scream bolted outside of those four walls they resided in. Calix grabbed Isaak by the collar and slammed him into the back of the door.

"You are stupid," Isaak admitted. "You have the Amour girl in your grasp and choose to do nothing. I made the decision for you. We make a good team, no?"

Calix proceeded to slam Isaak into the door again, rage tingling at his fingertips. His mind immediately envisioned the most vile and gruesome things he'd do to Isaak if the circumstances were different. Who gave him the idea that he could toss out orders? Like the maniac Isaak was, he smiled, baring his smile to mock Calix.

"Go ahead, kill me," Isaak encouraged, knowing the leverage he held in this situation.

"Do not test me, Isacco. I won't hesitate to decorate this entire room with your insides when you are no longer any use to me."

Calix released Isaak and punched him. Isaak let out a painful grunt, gripping his jaw and regaining his posture. He left Isaak in the office and returned to the bar. Calix's men had cleared out and most of Isaak's men had been nowhere in sight. Above all else, Vulia was gone too.

"Where is she?" Calix asked and the entire room stilled. "Bring Vulia Amour to me unharmed."

"They're on it," Maverick responded.

"How the hell did this happen?" Calix wondered and Maverick redirected his gaze to an object in the room instead of his brother's maddening gaze.

"She was leaving with a friend. No one saw Isaak's men follow them," Maverick confirmed "What if we could use this situation to our advantage? If Delano knows we have her this will buy us time."

Calix considered the idea. Of course, he considered it before. Now he was forced to consider it again. If Calix chose to let Vulia go there would be no doubt that questions would raise and actions would be made based on that mere observation. If Calix kept her in his grasp, he'd have time to think and possibly use the situation to his advantage. He'd also be ensured that no further harm would be done to her. Either way, Vulia was no longer an innocent bystander in the eyes of the mafia. Whatever decision Calix ended up choosing she could end up hurt.

"I know," was Calix's firm reply. "Take her to the mansion and lock her in my office."

There was a look in Maverick's eye, but he didn't say anything else. He simply nodded because Vulia Amour would be trapped in the belly of the beast and there was no telling what Calix would unleash.

A door swung open and Isaak stepped out of the office. His eyes slid to Calix's darkened ones. A smile cracked at his lips as if he was holding valuable information in his hands. It was as if he knew what could bring the most powerful Don down to his knees. In light of that Calix knew that he'd have to alter a narrative and convince Isaak otherwise. It was the only way and all Calix wanted to do was wipe that filthy smirk off his fucking face.

Isaak approached Calix, placing a hand on his shoulder. Finally, he spoke, "I will enjoy working alongside you, Calix."

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TO BE CONTINUED

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