So we may get hit with 2+ feet of snow. Do you know what this means? Well, let me help you all.

1. I have to bond with my family. Ew.

2. Power outages – which means, possibly no wifi.

3. No wifi means my death.

Anyways...

P.S. – Comment, comment, comment, and vote please?! With a Liam and Rico on top? Maybe a Dom on the side? No? Okay...

- - - -

"Believe nothing you hear, only half of what you see, and everything you feel." – Unknown.

- - - -

[5:30 A.M.]

| Liam Luciano |

The water that pelted my bare back was soothing and relaxing as I stood beneath the showerhead early the next morning. It wasn't near scolding hot, nor cold; but a perfect lukewarm. I dipped my head and stepped back, allowing the water to hit the back of my head directly. Droplets of water rolled off my cheeks and down my chin; they rolled over my shoulders and ran down my chest and past my stomach.

"Liam," I could still hear the woman purring in my ear, even though it had happened two nights ago. I could feel my shoulders tensing, even under the calming feeling of water layering my skin. My heart rate quickened as my mind replayed her throwing her long, bony fingers around my neck, squeezing gently. "You're tense," Her Hispanic accent was evident, but the way she said my name, made me cringe.

My jaw locked as I threw my head back and closed my eyes, allowing the pressure of the water to roll down my face. My lips parted, but my teeth grated together as water ran down my head, soaking my hair. I could feel it rolling down my back, past my shoulders, and in between my core back muscles. The thought of the cat lady kept crossing my mind; I called her the cat lady, but she was formally known as Camilla.

Her touch and her lips had one thing in common for me; they were unwanted. Remind myself of the feeling of her fingertips around my neck, sent chills down my spine, even as I stood under warm water, and the feeling of her lips pressed against my neck sent a painful feeling deep into the pit of my stomach. Nobody that I know wore a shirt in the shower, but I still felt my hand reaching up to where my collar would be; my fingertips were cold as I touched the base of my neck, remembering right where Camilla had left a lipstick stain.

My fists clenched as my eyes remained closed. I was angry at myself, Dominic, and Fede-fucking-rico, and every disrespectful cunt in this house. I let out a deep, shaky breath as the gears in my mind churned.

My time spent lathering up and standing underneath the shower was well spent as I turned off the faucet, grabbed a towel, and stepped out. My eyes locked on my frame as I stared at the full-length mirror that was built in the bathroom door. I took a couple deep breaths as I ran the towel over my head, quickly drying my hair. It stood up in every direction as I wrapped my towel around my waist, tied it, and stepped out.

Faith was still very much asleep; her hand clutching the duvet as she pulled it up to her neck, snuggling deep into the comfortable covers. I approached the bed slowly, cautiously, as not to make much noise. I knelt down beside the bed, watching her closely. I found it cute how innocent and safe she looked; like nothing in the world could get her at this very moment. A strand of her hair rested across her forehead, clearly out of place. I brushed it aside softly, the tip of my finger only grazing her forehead.

She moved at my touch and slowly, her eyes opened. It was clear she was still sleepy, not even close to being fully away. "L-Liam?" Her arm reached out to me gently, but I grabbed it, resting it down on the mattress.

"Yeah, it's me."

"Where are you...are you..." Her eyes fluttered back closed as her lips fell apart. I laughed softly as she managed to roll on her back and fall back asleep. Her hands fell at her sides and that's when my eyes lowered to the large shirt I had somehow managed to snake over her head late last night when she started shivering. I stood back up, pulled the duvet back up to her neck, and began to get ready for my day.

I stood in front a full length mirror not even three minutes later, pulling a pair of black slacks up my thighs and buttoning them. I slid my arms into the long sleeves of the black dress shirt; I rolled them up my arm, grabbed a belt, ran a hand through my hair, slid a gold watch on my left wrist, and with one longing glance behind me, I exited the room.

My gaze locked on Dominic's closed bedroom door. He was the only one I wanted to speak to. I cringed as another very clear image of Camilla ran through my head; her skin was pale, her arms overly hairy, and now that I think about it, I don't know how I didn't throw up.

My attention floated over to Rico's door and I leaned to my right, listening closely for any sign of movement. I had to pay close attention to Federico, whether I liked it or not. Despite his professionalism, if any of my men uttered a disrespectful saying in his direction, it would be highly likely that I would wake up the next morning with 100 of my men dead on the floor; the results would be similar to a fox or a raccoon that had entered a chicken coop.

But like Dom had read my mind, his door swung open seconds later, distracting me from my thoughts. The underboss stood at the doorway looking oddly...tired. A towel hung low on his hips and the fact that his naturally curly hair was plastered on his head, falling forward on his forehead, immediately told me he had taken a shower. I made my move and stepped towards him, clutching the front of his towel and dragging him back into his room. He squealed as I kicked the door closed behind me and let him go; he stumbled into the room, nearly falling over his bed.

When he whirled around, his eyes were wide, his lips parted, and his hand was clasping at his towel. I simply folded my hands over my chest and waited for his reaction.

"Liam, I don't know what you've heard," He stands back up, slapping his palm to his bare chest. "But I'm the Dom and whoever sleeps with me is the Sub." My eyebrows furrowed and raised as he continued, "Upon saying that, I don't like being thrown around."

It took me a minute to reply; and in that silent moment, I stared at Dominic, hard. He was in pretty good shape and his upper body reminded me much of my own. But the only difference I did notice, was the tattoo that was etched in a beautiful cursive handwriting on his left pectoral muscle. It looked like a lengthy saying, but I shook my head, mentally telling myself that that wasn't the reason I was here right now.

"We need to talk."

Dominic sighs, as if he already knows why I'm here. He steps away from the bed and nods as he walks towards me, heading to his closet. "Sure, but—" He stops as our shoulders brush together, shooting me a playful smile. "What's up with the all black? All you'd need is a—" He holds up a hand near his face, curling his index finger to his palm. I keep my face neutral as he scrunches up his nose and harshly whispers, "—scythe and you're the perfect resemblance of the Grim Reaper."

"Dom," I push him away, annoyance piercing my words as he chuckles. He swiftly disappears in the walk-in closet, momentarily leaving me alone in his room.

My eyes linger on his closet, before I tear them away, eyeing the rest the room. My attention locks in on a few photographs that rest beside his bed and like a magnet, I'm drawn to them out of curiosity. I pick them up gingerly, my thumb running along the glass that protects the original photo. My eyebrows crease together as I stare at a younger looking Dominic, his late wife, and a small baby. I let out a soft laugh at Dom, especially considering he looked like the typical fuckboy with really nice, curly, thick hair. His wife, Rose, looked more mature; with earrings and a tight, black dress. Her hair was long and pulled up in a ponytail. I could definitely see what attracted Dom and if she had the personality Dominic had told me about, then she was definitely a keeper.

Lastly, the baby. Dominic and the baby were clearly interacting when the photo was taken. His smile was wide and whatever he had been saying towards the baby, had made them laugh. Rose looked happy, happy but annoyed. I put that photo down and glanced at the second one, picking it up also.

The second picture was just the two of them: Dominic and Rose. The day seemed beautiful; with bright blue skies, not a cloud in sight. The cobblestone driveway they stood on and the beautiful, luscious green palm trees lining the driveway gave away their location: Miami, Florida. The two of them were leaning against the hood of a black Lamborghini, heads bowed. They both wore all black, while Rose supported an Adidas cap on her head. Their heads were bowed as they stood side-by-side. I could tell Dom was smiling, as he had tilted his head a bit to his right, glancing at his wife.

And just like that, I felt my anger for him subside. It didn't go away completely, but it did subside. As my thoughts had ran in the shower, I was upset that Dominic hadn't taken it upon himself to seduce Camilla. Instead, he had thrusted the idea into my hands and stupidly enough, I had initially gone along with it.

I kept my cool as Dominic walked out the closet, partially dressed. With his dress pants unbuttoned and not zipped, his boxers were visible. He had a towel slung over his head but as he marched further into the room, I watched him yank it off and sling it to the ground. A burgundy red, long-sleeved shirt was hanging off his shoulders, just waiting to be buttoned, and a matching black tie was thrown around his neck in a messy manner. He looked like he was about to speak, but as he lifted his eyes to my hands, he stopped.

I put the second picture down and only pointed at the first one, with the baby. "Who's the baby?" I could tell it hit him for a second and for just a moment, he was having flashbacks. He was still looking at me, but the light in his eyes had faded and if I waved a hand in front of his face, he wouldn't have responded. His hands even stopped messing with his shirt and I suddenly started regretting asking.

Dom blinked back and cleared his throat. "Her name was Maggie; short for Margaret. Rose wanted to adopt and I was okay with that," He points to the picture, "We fell in love with her the first three visits and we were ready to sign the paperwork and everything..." My heart fell as Dominic cleared his throat once again, shooting me a painful smile. He turns away, glancing out the window instead of at me.

It was clear he was done speaking on this topic. I took a step towards him, speaking up loudly. "That wasn't why I wanted to speak with you," Dom angles his body back to me, "We have to talk about Camilla."

"Camilla?"

"—Rodriguez; with the drug lord father?"

Dominic nods, appreciating the refresher. "Right. How'd that go?"

I let out a cold laugh, shaking my head. My eye twitched as my mind continued to replay the events from the other night. Whenever I felt her fingers on my skin; whether that was my hand on my neck, I cringed. I cringed as if someone had dragged their nails along a chalkboard. I shook off the peculiar feeling and stared at Dominic, who had a curious expression on his face.

I stumbled over the first few words, unsure of how to start my spiel. I place both of my hands on my chest and look up at the sky, choosing my words carefully. "Dominic, you know me. I'm one of those men that believe every woman is beautiful in her own way, I also understand that nobody makes themselves, so making them feel bad for their looks, is low." Dom raises a curious eyebrow. "But... Have you seen the cartoon version of 101 Dalmatians?"

He nods swiftly.

"She looked like Cruella De Vil."

Dominic lets a second pass, before breaking out in a hearty laugh. I sigh and head to a seat in the corner of the room, dropping down without a care in the world. Dom's deep chuckles die down after a good minute or two or laughter. When I lift my gaze back up from the floor, he was wiping a tear from his eye. With his lips pursed, he clears his throat and grows serious after eyeing the expression I have on my face.

"You look...like you're about to throw up."

My hands clench themselves into a fist as I stare at Dominic. I can feel the heat rushing to my face, I can feel the temperature of the room skyrocketing as I try to control my breathing. I had to take slow, deep, and even breaths. My eyebrows connected as dots appeared around Dominic's head; then they started scattering themselves, appearing on the floor, on the walls, over the bed. I blinked hard, but they continued to appear. Quickly, I shut my eyes and squeezed them tight. It took another moment of even breathing and silence before I risked opening my eyes again.

Dominic was standing much farther away this time, a worried expression on his face. Silently, I watch him head into the bathroom and come out a minute later, holding a glass of water. I stand up instantly, shaking my head and speaking before he could even reach me.

"I am done with Camilla Rodriguez."

He nearly spills the water at my statement. "What?" Dominic looks pleasantly surprised – note the sarcasm. "No!" He takes a step towards me, "You can't do that, Liam. We have to get you back on her father's good side—"

"Then you do it!" I hold out my hands towards him, as if I'm invisibly handing Camilla's ass to him. "But I'm done, I'm not going to try and kiss all up on her, I'm just not." Dominic clearly looked annoyed as he frowned and gave me a disapproving look. "Do you understand what I went through?" He blinks, "You don't," I answer my own question. "Me, I, Liam Elijah Luciano, had to go out to my car and watch porn on Tumblr—" I take a step back and let out a breath, sighing deeply. "You didn't hear me," I laugh harshly, "I had to watch porn on Tumblr for 45 minutes before I even had a slight erection. I lied to her and told her I had to go buy condoms or something," I throw up my hands and turn around, shaking my head.

Dominic falls silent.

I whirl back around, all while I run a hand through my hair, grasping at the tips. "I felt sick. I felt like I was cheating on Faith, I felt...just sick." He bows his head, "So respect my decision, just like I respected yours." I point an accusing finger in his face. "I respected you when you said you couldn't sleep with another woman, not yet. I respected that, so you better damn sure respect mine." It was clear Dominic didn't have much of a reply for me, he just nodded, glanced down at his hand, and shoved the cup in my face.

"You want water?"

I push it away with the back of my hand, "I don't drink tap."

He takes an annoying sip, purposely slurping the water down with gusto. I can feel myself starting to glare as he pulls the cup away from his lips. His tongue runs along his upper-lip as he looks to the ceiling in deep thought. "It taste pretty good for tap water." I groan and turn around, my sights already set towards the door; but Dom stops me. His hand grips my shoulder as he squeezes down, causing me to turn back around. "In all seriousness," He sighs, "I understand. Hell, maybe we can have Rico seduce her."

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?" Dom questions, "Rico doesn't have feelings for Faith like you do, and it isn't like he had a wife that just recently passed away." I ponder his words, "If Rico pulled up in a suit to a L.A. club and tossed the key to a Ferrari to the valet, he would be mobbed before he even entered the door."

Dominic did make sense. Federico didn't have someone he was already interested in, nor did he recently lose a girlfriend or significant other. There weren't many opportunities for me to see Rico in flirting action. He complimented a few women in my presence before to get what he wanted; but that was much different than what we were asking him to do. This, would be big; we would be asking him to sleep with someone, gain their trust, and not only woo the woman, but woo her father too – in the end, giving me a good name.

But something told me the answer and immediately, I let it go. "No."

"What?"

"No," I state again. My voice didn't waver, it didn't shake – there shouldn't have been a question about it. "Rico cannot do this, no." I could see Dominic's face fell as the reality came through; there was just no way we would be able to get Mr. Rodriguez on our side again.

"And why not?"

"If she accidently bit Rico's dick, he would gorge her eyes out."

"No he—" I give Dom a look and he second guesses himself, "—Okay, maybe."

I let out a soft laugh as Dominic takes another sip of his water. "So, Camilla Rodriguez is done?" I make a negating hand motion with my arms, hoping to instill what I meant. Dom nods.

"Done."

I give him a curt nod, before turning and heading towards the door. But before I could even take a couple steps, he speaks up again.

"Wait, Liam," Dom's tone of voice had changed drastically. His voice deepened and I could've sworn I had heard a hint of worry in it. Every person that I worked with closely, I knew; I knew Dominic like the back of my hand. I turn back around, only to see him standing there with his head bowed as he finished buttoning up his shirt. His hands fiddled with the tie around his neck, as he began to loop it.

I raised an eyebrow, a non-verbal hint to keep on talking.

He lifted his eyes from his tie and stared at me. "Sometimes, you get mad at the wrong people."

"Pardon?"

"I heard about you and Faith's...chatting yesterday," He starts out softly. "And from what I heard, you were yelling at her, but she didn't do anything bad." My mouth dropped in an attempt to defend myself, but Dominic held out a palm, stopping me. "You've done that ever since I've known you; you get mad, but you take it out on the wrong people. You should be yelling at Federico for drinking and attempting to rape Faith; because that's what he tried to do."

I much as I hated to admit it, Dominic had a point. I had yet to watch the video footage of the previous night, but that didn't mean I wasn't itching to. Despite having seen it, I believed what Faith had told me before: Rico was drunk and tried to make multiple advances on her.

Dominic snaps in front my face, drawing my attention back to him. "So," He continues, "I think you should apologize to her."

"I will." Once again, I turn my back to him and head towards the door. My thoughts were racing; from Faith to Camilla to Rico to work.

"By the way, you shouldn't be doing this." Just like before, Dominic's words stopped me dead in my tracks, but I didn't turn around. He continued, "She lives on the east coast—" It was clear he was talking about Faith, "—you live on the west. She's a 21 year old trying to get her life together and you're an established 28 year old businessman. And without you, she probably never would've even known the mafia still existed." Dom sighs, deeply. "You two just lead completely different lives and I don't want you to get hurt, Liam. 90 percent of the time, love ends in heartbreak; whether you break up with your 20, divorce when you're 40, or one of you dies when you're 80. You shouldn't fall for her."

"Well then," I let out a cold laugh as I pull his door open and turn back around. I rest a hand on the doorframe beside me, "I'm fucked."

"Why's that?"

I lean forward, "Because I've already fallen."

Dominic doesn't have an answer for me as I slap the doorframe. "Also," I add, "Get your ass downstairs in three minutes; whoever is awake, have them meet in the living room – I want to hold an informal meeting. We have to discuss—" I pull my lip into my mouth, thoughtfully thinking. "—disrespect."

I pulled his door close as a dramatic exit and sighed. It was only about six in the morning, but I felt like I had just run three marathons and taken six trigonometry tests. I stood at Dom's door for a second longer, already planning my next move. I had ordered Dominic to gather a few of the men together for an informal discussion, simply because I needed time to make a quick pit stop at the security offices. They had a couple video feeds I wanted to pull.

Like a man on a mission, I stormed over towards the steps and began to head down; but without realizing it, Federico had been coming up – and just like that, we ran into each other.

Let me just say, Rico isn't someone you can just push around. I stumbled, but caught myself; Rico on the other hand, didn't. I wasn't sure if he tripped on his feet or the last step, but he fell forward and all the papers he was carrying, fluttered to the carpeted floor beneath us. Federico managed to catch himself; similar to how cats always tend to land on their feet after a fall. His hands shot out and braced himself from the fall.

"Sorry about that," I muttered in his direction, unsure of whether he needed my help or not. I bent down and grabbed a couple loose papers, scanning them briefly. A few of the sheets of paper I glanced at had pictures, beneath the small photo of a person, was an address, a phone number, and a multitude of random looking numbers. It seemed foreign to me, like another language I had yet to pick up.

But as quickly as I scanned the pieces of paper, they were taken from me. The look in Rico's eyes immediately caused me to lean back as he snatched them from my grasp. In a rushed manner, he grabbed all the papers, stacked them together, and simultaneously, we stood up. What worried me wasn't the angry expression on his face, nor was it the dangerous look in his hazel eyes, but it was the simple fact that Federico hadn't uttered a word.

I wanted to call after him, to say something, but I didn't know what. He didn't walk very quickly to his room, but his steps were large and covered a larger amount of space than normal. "Wait, Rico," I hadn't expected him to stop, but with a hand on his door, preparing to push it open, he turned to me and waited. "I have a meeting in a couple minutes; downstairs, living room. Be there." I left after that, heading towards the steps and descending them. He didn't give a verbal reply, but I heard his door slam a second later.

"Hey, Liam!"

"Goodmorning, Liam!"

Those were the two main greetings I heard as I hit the first floor, refusing to break my stride. A couple of the guys tilted their heads back in an upward nod, while a few approached and gave fist bumps. It was usual for good number of them to be up this early; each and every day was a new adventure, another job, and more money. I passed through the foyer fairly quickly, politely rejecting a cup of tea from a working maid.

The sound of soft chatter and the low volume of the television dimmed and eventually disappeared the further I walked away from the crowd of people. I stopped on the last door of this specific hallway and looked to my right; Security was written in bold letters on the door. I lifted my hand to the door and with an open palm, I smacked the door a couple times.

It opened within seconds and Timothy answered the door. He had reminded me of the typical California surfer boy; tanned skin, scruffy blonde hair, and he had a love for those oddly patterned and colored shirts that it seemed every surfer loved to wear. Yet, despite his love for surfing and good weather, he had a knack for computers; similar to William. His smile was bright, unusual for such an early hour.

"Oh, Liam, come in." He threw himself to the side, allowing me to enter the office.

Television screens hung from the corners and walls of the dim room, displaying live video footage from around the estate. Each television displayed six small boxes, each portraying a different section of the house. One screen gave me multiple angles of the garage; in between my cars and the back entrance. Another shown the front of the house; I saw the decorative fountain in my driveway, I noticed a gardener pulling weeds up against the house, and a man cutting grass whizzed by fairly quickly.

I walked by each screen briefly, my eyes floating to others displays of my home. I took in note the amount of coffee cups that were scattered around the room; a few other men were slumped on chairs, eyeing screens just like I was. They all mumbled a tired greeting as I sidled up to their chair and stopped, one small box gaining my attention more than the others.

"What can I do for you today?" I heard Tim speaking from his corner of the room. "It isn't often the boss just walks into the security o—" I hold up a hand, momentarily silencing him. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched Dominic head out his room, fully dressed. He disappeared from the camera after heading towards the steps and walking down.

But what caught my attention was the small box to the left, the box that was displaying my wing's guest bedroom. I leaned forward, arms crossed at my chest, as I stared at Rico's figure. Sure, I might've felt a tad weird just watching him, but oh well. He was standing at the bathroom door, just yanking it back towards him with a violent force. From what I could tell, it wasn't closing.

"Hey," I signal to Tim, pointing at the screen, "Turn the volume up." He grabs something, probably a remote, and heads over. My attention stays solely on Rico's figure as he continuously tries to pull the door closed – failing each and every time.

Banging came through the speakers as finally, Federico gave up. With a loud curse word, he shoved the door away from him, nearly ripping it off its hinges. I cringed, knowing if the door was broken, that was money coming out of my pocket – but at the time, that wasn't the only thing I was concerned about.

Unlike me, who takes their anger out on the wrong people, Rico doesn't. Instead, he lets his anger simmer till it boils over and eventually, he explodes. In all my life, I had only seen Federico erupt like that once; like this morning, he had hardly spoken that day and if I could've had a re-do on that day, I would've jumped on it – but little did I know, the consequences of that. The person that caused him to reach his breaking point is no longer with us; It was brutal, what Rico did to that man – it was brutal. I had nightmares about it for days. The man died a horrible, painful, unforgettable death. He was stabbed a multitude of times; he was dead by the fifth impalement of the knife to his neck, but Rico wasn't done. I had to step away as Rico continued to plunge the knife into the man's throat, then his heart, his everywhere. By the time Federico pulled away, his face and hands were covered in the man's blood.

I refused to let that happen to anyone else – at least to an innocent.

"Um," I blink the remaining thoughts away, pushing Rico's troubles to the back of my mind. I turn to Timothy. "I need you to pull a couple feeds from a couple nights ago." The man nods.

"Which ones?" He leans down in front a computer, his fingers resting delicately over the keyboard, waiting for my word.

"Hm," I glance back at the television that shows my wing. "Pull the feed from the guest room, my bedroom, and the hall." He nods again, beginning to type something on the computer. He glances back up at me after a moment of silence.

"What time?"

"2:45 to 3:15 in the morning."

"It'll take a moment," Timothy adds, continuing to do his thing on the computer. "But, you'll get a notification. The video feeds should get to your phone in about...ten or so minutes." He smiles at me.

"Thank you." I glance around the room at the other men and nod appropriately. "Gentlemen," I bid then a respectful goodbye and head towards the door. I stop my momentum once I'm halfway out the door; my hand clasps the top of the doorframe, and in a fluent motion, I pull myself back into the room, frowning.

Timothy raises a curious eyebrow.

I point at him, "My room," I begin, "I had the cameras turned off yesterday evening, correct?"

Tim plops down in a seat and types something into the computer, scrolling quickly. He knew the security system like the back of his hand. He was already nodding before he whirled the chair in my direction. "Correct, we got a request from you yesterday at about 5:30 to turn the camera in your room off. So anything that's happened since 5:30 p.m. yesterday and this morning has not been taped."

I smile, "Great."

"Do you want them on now?"

I shake my head, "No, I'll call you when to turn them on. Thank you, Gentlemen." They mutter their goodbyes as I head down, heading straight towards the loud chatter coming from the foyer.

The laughter that echoed down the hall was deep and full of happiness. By the time I slowed my walk to a stop, just at the entrance of the foyer, the noise was almost deafening. The volume of the television in the connecting living room was blaring and because of the noise, the people in the foyer were talking louder – and the louder they talked, the higher the volume of the television got. Men were standing against walls, eating their breakfast off of fancy dinner plates. A few sipped on glasses of orange juice and others chuckled in corners, showing their buddy a picture, a quote, or a tweet off of their phone. It was always great seeing them getting along, especially considering we're family – but as of recently, they treated the man beside them better than they treated their own boss; better than they treated me.

Dominic was standing by my side within seconds. We both face the crowd of people, who attempt to fully wake themselves up with breakfast and multiple cups of coffee. My eyes scan the crowd; they float over men chuckling, maids handing out drinks, and finally, rest of Rico – who stands in a corner, all alone. He was clearly underdressed in a room full of men wearing tailored suits and shoes, including watches that clung to their wrist, easily worth a couple grand.

"Go ahead," was all I needed to utter to Dom. With his thumb and index finger, he rests them between his lips and lets out an ear piercing, show stopping, whistle. It ripples across the foyer like a wave; the people closest stopped first, followed by those in the back. Everyone froze mid-step, food halfway to their mouths as they all whipped their heads in the direction of the whistle. I keep my lips pursed as I stare at the men, watching their surprised expressions. Dominic speaks up for me, allowing me to save my voice.

"Everyone needs to cram into the living room. Luciano has called an informal meeting." Everyone moves swiftly into the next room, quickly clearing out the foyer. I turn slightly to my left as Dominic pulls out a gun, handing it to me. I check the rounds it has left, before stuffing it in its usual spot: on the lower part of my back, lodged between my back and my belt.

Dom mouths a, "Good luck," before disappearing into the room after everyone. I stood by myself for a while, just waiting; for what? I don't know. It was rare that I got nervous, but I was more trying to calm my anger than anything. The disrespect that the others had been showing me was intolerable, at least in my book. With one last deep breath, I strode into the room.

The chatting died down instantly. Heads turned in my direction; I stayed cool, calm, and collected as all the attention swayed to me. You could've heard a pin drop as I casted my glare around the room, noting the position of each man. A few were scattered on sofas, some sat on the ground, others leaned along the back of the couch. Some leaned their backs against the walls and many of them seemed crushed by the amount of people in the room; but politely enough, they had left a good sized circle in the middle of the room. Dominic stood to my left, arms crossed. To my right were three security guards, their faces as serious as could be.

I spoke as I turned my head away from the strapped guards, casting longing glances at the men. "You know what I find funny?" I heard a lot of shuffling and a few, 'uh oh's'.

"It probably isn't funny," I heard someone mutter under their breath. My mouth spread into a wide, fake smile as I pointed to a section of the room, where the voice originated from.

"You're right." My smile disappears. "Three months ago, if someone disrespected me in my home, I would've beat the shit out of you," I lock my gaze on a few men, watching them visibly shake. Neither of them could hold my glare for a long period of time, before tearing their attention onto something else. My gaze scared them. "I started getting complaints about how I wasn't nice, that people were scared of me, and even a few of you said that if I treated you all better, we would get more work done. So guess what my stupid ass did?" The question was clearly rhetorical. Nobody answered. "I became nice."

There was more shuffling; they were becoming uncomfortable.

"Let me tell you all something and I will not repeat myself," I spoke the words through gritted teeth. "I do not need any of you. Do you understand me? That company I took over; the one I made successful, yeah, I didn't need any of you for that. And just like that company, I can do it to this family. So get that through your head: I don't need you. If you die tonight, you'll have a replacement tomorrow. There are hundreds of men coming from Italy into America today that would die for a job." I glance around the room.

"And it pisses me off," I continue, "When one of you have the nerve to talk shit to me in my home." My eyes land on Charlie, who slumps further into his seat. Baby face from yesterday's meeting sits beside him; his face turns a beat red. "And quite personally, I feel as though you all walk all over me because my punishment is like a slap on the wrist; it means nothing. So, starting today, it ends." My gaze falls on Rico, who sits quietly on the edge of a sofa, his eyes down casted to his lap. I keep my mouth quiet about that. "Baby face," I curl a finger towards my chest as I greet him. He stands, nervously, as I point to the ground in front of me – expecting him to stand there.

Reluctantly, he does. He excuses his way through a few people, he steps over someone lying on the ground, and eventually, stands in front of me. I could see him shaking in his Italian shoes; he was a thinner man but unlike yesterday, his confidence was wavering. His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes searching mine for any clue as to what I was up to. I felt the anger beginning to surge through my veins; the feeling of adrenaline.

"You," I shake my head, taking a daring step towards him. "You flat out disrespected me in my meeting yesterday. You have no idea what goes on in my life and with Faith present, you decided to bring up a topic you know nothing about?"

"It's Ryan," He blinks, ignoring everything I said. "My name is Ryan, not Baby face."

That gets a deep laugh from me. "I'm sorry," the sarcasm dripped from every letter as I glanced around the room, eyeing the wide and curious eyes that zoned in on our talk. "Somewhere along the way, you must've assumed I cared."

That got chuckles. Eyes got wider and a few men had to bring their shirts up to their mouths, stifling the inevitable laughter that came up from their throats. Even Ryan cracked an unfazed smile.

"I disrespected you," He laughs, acknowledging what he did. "I did. And guess what you did? Nothing." He jerks his knee upwards, causing me to flinch. It was a natural reaction for every man. Ryan let out a cold laugh, "You're as soft as your dick."

I didn't even let my thoughts process. Out of anger, self-defense, and pure hatred, I pulled out my gun, clicked off the safety, and pulled the trigger. Ryan's head snapped backwards as the bullet pierced the middle of his forehead. He fell backwards, his back slamming against the glass coffee table that decorated the room. His blood speckled my cheeks and chin, falling and blending in to the darkness of my shirt. I lowered the gun, eyeing Ryan's lifeless body.

"Remove him," I didn't need to raise my voice as I stepped out the way, allowing two of the security guards to step forward. They kept themselves together, seemingly unnerved. One grabbed Ryan by the arms, the other by the legs, and they escorted his decaying body out. It was only after he was gone, did I lift my gaze and meet the bewildered expressions that met me.

My hands still shook; not out of nervousness, but out of anger. A few of the men looked hesitant, some afraid, but many of them still kept that unfazed look. We lived in a world where death was normal; it wasn't something that was usually mourned. In this life, if you haven't seen someone brutally murdered, then you're too young.

My lips split as I began to speak again, but Dominic brushed against my side and leaned towards my ear, mumbling something only we could hear. I glanced behind me quickly, just as Timothy – from security – scattered out the room, just barely missing my gaze. Dom looked at me worriedly, before stepping away and returning to his position to my left. The words he muttered in my ear were chilling and were definitely a cause for concern. I holstered my gun, right where it belonged.

"Jeremiah," I didn't have to speak loudly to gather everyone's attention once again. Everyone, even Rico, shot glances over their shoulders, looking for the wiry man I had called for. I spotted him in the back of the room, attempting to make a quiet exit in the back. He stopped, just inches from the exit and turned around, a sly smile on his face. I wasn't sure how I wanted to approach this; but in the end, I ended up calling him over.

I had a growing hatred for the same man that called me out on multiple occasions in front of Faith yesterday. He knew nothing of the situation, similar to Ryan, yet he felt as though he needed to speak up. Our eyes locked as men stepped back and away from Jeremiah, parting like the red-sea so that he could walk up to me. An unexplainable desire shimmered in his eyes as he came to a stop, just an arm's length away from me.

We stood like that for the longest time, silently holding our own stare-down game. "What are you going to do?" He offered up first, "Shoot me in cold blood like you shot Ryan?"

I eyed the broken glass on the ground, but I still refused to answer his question. There was a technique to control, one I had been taught at a young age by Michael Luciano. My eyes partially closed as I analyzed Jeremiah; he was too confident for his own good, didn't seem to listen to orders very well, and always seemed as though he was right. From the corner of my eye, I could see Federico doing the same – eyeing the back of Jeremiah's head.

"You're working for Corinelli?" In the end, I answered his question for him. Surprisingly, he actually seemed surprised. He recovered quickly, picking his jaw up off the floor and clamping his mouth closed; but it was too late, I had already received the answer I wanted. "According to security, you've been calling the same number, every night, since Faith and I have got here. What were you doing?" I take a step towards him, "Telling him Faith and I's every move?" He takes a step back, but I don't back down. "And when you found out I went to see another woman the other night, you must've felt like you had hit the jackpot, huh? You probably thought that if you mentioned it to Faith, she would get upset – do something stupid, possibly leave me. Leaving her vulnerable and unprotected, yes?"

My eyes floated to the stillness of the room, behind Jeremiah's shoulders. Everyone had tense, their hands on their guns, preparing to pull just in case. I tilted my head to the left, to see Dominic with a hand on his gun; and to my right, I saw the same with security. The moment was tense as I turned back to Jeremiah, who mustered up a smug look to put on his face.

"Well," He glances around the room also, "you aren't as dumb as you look."

The next sound that filled my ears, sent shivers running up and down my spine. My insides grew cold as the sickening clicking sound echoed through my mind, putting my entire body on high alert. I risked a glance away from Jeremiah, down to my stomach; even through my clothing, I felt the coolness of the barrel of the gun, pressing into my stomach. And as quickly as Jeremiah had pulled his gun out on me, the others had pulled it on him.

I had one gun aimed at me, while Jeremiah had about thirty. I could feel Dominic inching closer, his gun raised. The security guards did the same, unmoving. The men in the room, the ones I considered family, had also pulled their personal weapons on a man that just seconds ago, we had considered a friend, a family member.

Even with all the guns aimed at Jeremiah, I didn't feel safe. It was a threatening move and they hoped they could get in Jeremiah's head, but we all knew, nobody would shoot. With Jeremiah and I standing so close, one missed shot could kill me. Jeremiah dragged the barrel of the gun up my stomach, pass my throat, before pressing it firmly against my forehead. I didn't budge, nor did I visibly tense.

My mind was racing. There was only one person in this room that I trusted to take the shot and that was Federico. It was clear, everyone was tensing; nervous as to what the outcome would be. It was also simple; the only reason nobody had attempted to shoot Jeremiah, was because I had yet to say the word. Around the house, my word was law.

"You're insane," Dominic was the first to speak up, daring to step any closer. Jeremiah tense and dug the gun deeper into my skin, shouting at Dom.

"Do not step any closer, curly!"

"—Jeremiah," Dom continues, "Shooting and killing Liam right now would be suicide. Look!"

Jeremiah keeps the gun pressed against my skin, quickly eyeing the scene around him. There was no doubt in my mind that if Jeremiah pulled the trigger and killed me, his death would shortly follow. My eyes zone in on the gun, surely crossing as I stare at it. There was no way in this world I could grab my own gun and shoot him, without Jeremiah pulling the trigger quickly. I could disarm him easily right now, but he kept looking between the room and I, clearly not distracted enough.

Federico and I lock eyes.

"I know what this would be, rag doll," Jeremiah glances back to Dom, "I'm already dead now, correct? Might as well take this fucker with me, right?"

And that's when, for the first time today, Rico spoke up. His tone of voice was boring and completely stale, as if my life being on the line was the last thing in the world he was thinking about. He was the only one still sitting, his gun still holstered.

"Liam, his gun isn't even loaded."

Both Jeremiah and I whip our heads in his direction.

Rico glances between us, clearly not in the mood to repeat what he just said. I felt myself beginning to tense as Jeremiah's anger rose; he yelled at Federico, his gun still aimed at me, and I was afraid that he would pull the trigger by accident.

"Shut up, mistake!"

I felt that one. It hit me right in the heart, almost like a kick to the stomach.

Rico didn't stand, he didn't lunge, he didn't even reach for his gun. His eyes just flickered upwards, searching Jeremiah's soul – the same soul he probably wanted to reach down Jer's throat and rip out with his own bare hands. My own mind couldn't even imagine wasn't running through Rico's head at the moment; I couldn't tell whether he was hurt, angry, sad.

"I'm not a mistake," it came out of Rico's mouth as a hoarse whisper. Yet, his voice didn't waver or shake with sadness, anger, or any other notable emotion.

"You're something," Jeremiah yelled back, his attention still on Rico and not on me. He laughs coldly. "Did your mother drop you on your head when you were a baby? Maybe throw you down a few flight of stairs in hopes to kill you?" My jaw clenched at that. Jeremiah wasn't done, "Did it hurt?"

Rico stands, "When I crawled up from hell, yes. Burned like a bitch."

Two of the men closest to Rico had to grab his biceps, keeping him from lunging at Jeremiah. In any other situation, I'm sure Rico could've gone hog-wild, but with me currently standing in front of the man's trigger, it wouldn't have been pretty.

I took the opportunity to strike. Like I was taught, I lifted my hands, neatly pushing Jeremiah's arm away. I dodged the barrel just in case he pulled the trigger and grabbed the gun. He was stunned at the swiftness of the move and before he, or anyone knew what was happening, I had his back pinned against my chest and his gun pressed the underside of his jaw, digging into his skin. I casted one long, fleeting glance to the surprised family members, before pulling the trigger.

The gunshot was muffled as Jeremiah fell to my floor, dead. His head was twisted at an odd angle as blood streamed from his gunshot wound to my carpet. And for the first time in what felt like hours, I exhaled. I could see and feel the tension leaving the room as men silently holstered their weapons. A few put hands up to their hands in shock, while others stared at me like I had just teleported back from mars. I didn't have much to say to anyone; my pulse was still racing and Ryan's blood was drying on my face.

I ended the silence quickly as I dropped Jeremiah's gun to the floor, completely uninterested it in. I ran a hand across my sweaty forehead; everyone's attention was once again, all on me. "Starting today," I whisper, "No more disrespect. In this house, my word is law. I am king and starting today, that woman upstairs, is queen. You listen to what I say—" I point to my chest. I point to Dom, "—you listen to what he says—" I point towards the ceiling, "—and you listen to what Faith Crawford says. And if I hear that you've disrespected either of these three people, your fates will be similar to Ryan and Jeremiah's."

The "yes sir's" that I received were weak, covered by a thin layer of fright. Everyone seemed visibly shaken as I dropped my gaze to the dead man on the floor.

"Today's shot," I spoke up a little louder, "You all can take the day off. Go be with family, friends, waste your money on strip clubs and alcohol. If you get in trouble, that isn't my problem. Everyone be back by midnight." I backpedaled out the room as the chatter started up again, everyone thrilled about their recently discussed off day. I hooked a thumb behind me as I passed the security guards, "Dispose of the bodies." They nod in confirmation. I shoot a look over my right shoulder, locking eyes with Rico. "Rico, my office please." And as I turn to lock my sights on the door, Dom stops me.

"I'll be with you in a second," He said, before patting me on the back and disappearing in the crowded room.

On most occasions, I didn't have to look over my shoulder to make sure someone was following me; but Rico walked like a cat, I swear. He had me by an easy ten pounds, but he walked like a three year old. His steps were light and it appeared that he was in stealth mode 95 percent of his life. I hooked a right down a hallway and quickly glanced behind me; sure enough, Rico was there, walking peacefully just a few steps behind my own.

My office was nothing out of this world. It was a good sized room, enough for a seating area, a miniature fridge, a couple bookcases, a television, an adjoining bathroom, and a large wooden desk and chair. Two windows managed to show gorgeous rays of early morning light as I walked around the desk and found my seat. Rico was a little bit more hesitant; he stayed quiet as he stood at the entrance, looking around the room suspiciously.

I plopped down in my seat, pushed a few piles of papers away, and glanced back up. "Sit down," I point to the chair sitting opposite my desk as Federico waltzed in, oddly quiet. The quietness unnerved me, it really did. Federico had times when he grew serious, especially around work; and then there were times when he acted his age – possibly even younger – and joked around, but neither Rico seemed to show up today.

He stood by the chair, but he didn't sit down. With his arms shoved deep into the pockets of his sweatpants, he looked up at me. A thin ray of light shimmered off the necklace that hung around his neck.

"Disarm." I lean back in my chair.

He gave me a bewildered look; but I knew he understood what I said. I had a reason for ordering what I did. Like I stated earlier, I knew the men I worked with. An angry Rico would pull a gun on you, no questions asked; and it isn't that I was planning to upset Federico at the moment, but it was possible that a few of his buttons might be pressed.

Federico's expression changed from bewildered to boredom. Slowly, almost teasingly, he began to roll the sleeve up of his burgundy nightshirt. I wasn't sure where he kept it, nor was I about to ask, but amusingly, I watch him pull a pocket knife from his sleeve. It clatters to the desk and he's on to the next one. Without regard to my fancy wood, he throws his shoes on my desk, pulls up his leg sleeve, and grabs another knife from his sock. I raise a curious brow, but keep quiet. Next, he pulls two guns from behind him and rest them on my desk.

I wave a finger at him, "Ah-ah."

With a roll of his eyes, he quickly removes the bullets from both guns, pushing the cases closer to me. I snag them and slide them into my desk. He fixes his sock, rolls his sleeve back down and readjusts his shirt, before finally dropping into the seat, un-armed.

I lean forward, hoping to get to the point immediately. "Rico, I'm not here to scold you," His gaze lifts from the floor and he actually looks relieved. "But—" His face falls, "—I am here to ask you why you did what you did—"

His voice sounds raspy, as if he failed to clear it correctly this morning. "I was drunk," was his short, curt, and to the point answer. His palms slap the side of the chair as he stands, assuming the meeting is adjourned.

"Sit your ass down."

He drops back to the seat, visibly annoyed.

I watch him carefully; the way he rests his head in his hand, keeping his eyes away from mine. He slouches in his seat and he looks completely disinterested in the entire thing. I nod and lean back.

"When was the last time you had sex?"

"I don't see why that's important."

I lean forward once again, gaining Rico's attention. "You attempted to rape Faith last night; so I'm just trying to get into your head. Answer the damn question."

"I don't remember," He mumbles.

"Bullshit."

Rico looks at me, eyes wide. "Ho—How? How are you going to tell me I'm lying?"

"A man always knows the last time he had sex."

He leans back in his seat and shakes his head, "Two months," He finally answers honestly.

"Do you like Faith?"

"Not like that."

"Do you crave sex?"

"Nope."

I groan, frustrated. I shot the questions out quickly, but Rico answered them equally as fast. It was like he gave no thought to it. We locked eyes for the longest time, before I lowered my voice and spoke slowly.

"Then Rico please, tell me. Because at this point, I'm just curious and I'm worried." Federico's demeanor completely changes after those words spill out my mouth. "You hid in your room all of yesterday, you've hardly uttered anything today and even though I am slightly upset at you for what you did to Faith, I'm more concerned about you now."

He shifts in his seat, looking quite uncomfortable under my stare. He breathes deeply, sits up, looks me in the eye, and says, "I'm lonely."

That didn't process. How could someone be lonely? Someone with the amount of contacts Rico has in his phone, the amount of women that would pay him to hug him? I let out an unbelieving laugh.

"Lonely? Rico, you have Dominic, me, Faith; shit, you even have William."

"It's more than just..." His eyes float away from mine and it's clear, he staring out the window. Rico's lips part as he licks them. "It's...I'm lonely. You have family you can go home to. Faith has family she can go home to. Dominic has family he can go home to," Rico leans back, "I don't even have a home." I tried to open my mouth to reason with him, but he spoke quickly, "I move from place to place, city to city. I'm never in any place long enough to know people, long enough to build relationships."

"What about Vincenzo in Detroit? His home is surely your home."

Slowly, Rico turns to me. "Vinny only loves me for my talent. The only reason you and I are friends, is because of my talent. If I was a lame ass, you and I wouldn't be friends; Faith, Dominic and I never would have met."

I didn't really know what to say.

"Home is where the heart is, right?" Rico questions again, "Isn't that what they say?"

"I—"

"It hurts," Rico continues, "It hurts knowing that if I got my legs blown off; nobody would be there for me. Nobody." Federico leans forward, causing me to scoot back. "Vinny would cut me off because then I would be a liability instead of an asset. Nobody would speak to me, talk to me, nobody would need me. I'd be worthless."

I let out a nervous laugh. "Rico, nobody is just friends with you because of your incredible talent."

He scoots out of his chair, causing it the screech against the hardwood. Rico's hands grasp at my desk as he leans over it, his voice rising. The vein in his neck and arms popped as he yelled at me, "You're just saying that! I'm not stupid, Liam. I see it myself. The only two people that couldn't have possibly loved me for my talent, left me. One left me on the steps of an orphanage and the other left me standing in the freezing rain."

My gaze fluttered to the knives that sat harmlessly on my desk, just inches away from Rico's fingertips.

"Sex," I turned back to Rico as he uttered the word. He pushes away from the desk, slowly calming himself down. "Sex, whether it's ten minutes or an hour, you feel needed. You feel wanted by that other person, but most importantly, you feel needed. And all my life, I have wanted to feel needed; not for my talent, just for me. So for that short period of time, whether I know that person or not, I feel needed." He takes another step back, "So intoxicated me, wanted to feel needed. That's why I went after Faith. You know me Liam," He lets out a laugh, minus the hilarity, "I would never place my hands on a woman sexually if she didn't want it."

His explanation made sense, perfect sense. I drop my head, hanging it there for a while as silence engulfs us. Rico approaches the desk, quietly taking his belongings with him. I hear his footsteps fade, but before he can exit the door, I slap a small button to my left and lift my head.

The double doors slam closed, a loud clicking and locking sound echoing through the room. It was a nice perk, I had to admit. Rico faces the door and as I speak, he doesn't turn around; but I know he heard me.

"If you got your legs blown off today," I speak softly and sternly, "I cannot speak for Faith, or Dom, or for Will; but I can speak for myself. I would be there with you in the ambulance, I would be there in the hospital room, I would be there in therapy, and even after you've recovered, I would be there, Rico. Yes, I can't lie to you, this friendship was started because you're good at what you do, but it's developed because of you as a person. This, what we have isn't a friendship anymore, it's a brotherhood. Just because we don't have the same blood running through our veins doesn't mean we aren't brothers. Blood doesn't make family, Fantasma."

I knew he hung off every word I said, even without a reply. I tapped the button after a moment, allowing my words to sink in a little longer. The doors swing open, just as Dominic rushes in. Both Rico and him bump shoulders, causing Dom to stumble a bit. Rico continues walking out the room, with Dominic looking behind in an annoyed manner.

"Well, someone needs to pull the thong out his ass."

I let out a deep chuckle as he approaches the table. He tosses a pack of wipes on the desk, which I politely take. I scrub my face quickly as Dom looks at me.

He then quickly frowns and begins to sway from left to right. I raised an eyebrow, curious as to his odd behavior. His sways become more drastic as he comes to a stop. His hands find his pockets as he voices his concerns.

"I feel...lighter."

"Lighter?" I toss the second wipe into the trash can with precision as Dom nods.

Silently, I watch him pull at the contents of his pockets. He drops his phone on my desk, followed by his cherry chapstick, a condom, and an unused tissue. My mouth drops as I point a finger at the condom package. Dominic doesn't notice as he stops.

"My wallet," He breathes. "Rico!" Dominic rushes to the door and turns around, his mouth falling open.

"Yeah," I laugh, "Go get him."

"Federico!" Dominic screeches the man's name down the hallway, causing me to laugh to myself silently.

I let out a sigh as I stand and close up my office, turning off the light. My walk down the hall was silent and undisturbed. I wasn't sure where Dom and Rico had run off too, but the rest of the house was dead silent. Men were still streaming out the house, including a few stragglers that ran down the steps dressed in street clothes. Within a matter of minutes, the house was left to Faith and I; just us.

The thought made me smile; it made me smile a lot. I jogged up the steps and into the bedroom, where Faith still lay, completely unaware of what went down this morning. I stepped into the bathroom once again, washing my hands at least six times, and hopped in the shower.

Déjà vu to the max.

But this time, instead of hopping out the shower and changing back into a fancy set of clothes, I threw on a pair of shorts and headed out. With my hair still wet, causing water to drip down my back, I climbed back into bed, feeling completely exhausted. Instead of just two hours going by, I felt like an entire millennium had passed since I woke up this morning.

Faith groaned quietly, rolling back into me as I threw my arms around her. "Shhh," was all I muttered in her ear as I rested my head on the pillow.

As if this morning never even happened.

But before I succumbed to sleep, my eyes drifted to my hands; my thumb to be precise. I wasn't sure whether I was just seeing things, or if it was real; but I couldn't sworn I saw a speck of blood.

I tossed the idea out of my head but as I closed my eyes; I saw two people.

I saw Ryan's head snap back and I felt the warmth of Jeremiah's blood as he fell to the floor.

Least to say...

I regretted nothing.

- - - -

a/n: initially, I was just going to write the chapter with Faith waking up and all of this going down while she was sleep; but I felt like you all deserved to read what happened, especially in Liam's P.O.V.

with all the distractions out the way, it looks like Faith and Liam can continue focusing on Corinelli! Yay? Yay.

Sorry for any grammar errors.

Comments on thechapter?