x | the alpha and omega

ty for being the reason potere won a fiction award. love you.

tried to edit, sorry for any mistakes.

Previously on Potere...

"...I plan on taking out the Rostov's as a testament to the generations of kings that will follow in our footsteps, and to those that reign now...that you do not mess with La Cosa Nostra."

"I'm sorry, Faith, but I don't have the strength to fight for a different ending."

"It wasn't Rico, it was William."

"I'm afraid that Valentin is going to force me to become a man I never wanted you to see."

"We move on this location tonight."

"Boom."

And now...

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Veleno and the group of men burst through the front doors about twenty minutes later, talking excitedly with each other about what just went down.  Fellow soldiers and friends scramble out of their hiding places to insert themselves in a conversation as they get blow-by-blow details about the raid on the Russians.

Liam, Austin, Steven, and I stand at the end of a hallway which meets the foyer, quietly observing the growing crowd.  The volume of their chatter only rises as they make their way toward the weapons room to disarm.

I step forward, silently searching for one person in particular.

Veleno trails the group and unlike everyone else, he doesn't appear excited.  He walks alone while the group of men in front of him are bombarded with questions, requests for details, and more.

Austin follows my eyes.  He leans over and nods toward the group of elated men.  "Rookies."  Then he casually points to Veleno, who looks like his heartrate remained below 60 throughout the entire event. "Seasoned veteran."

I laugh, but I don't smile.

I feel a hand rest on the small of my back just as the group of men – including Veleno – disappear down a hall and into a room.  Liam comes into view.  "I know you're tired, but I wanted to talk to a couple of the guys before we left.  That okay?"

I nod, having no problem with it.  I wanted to speak to Veleno as well.

Our group separates once we reach the weapons room.  Liam heads in one direction, taking Austin and Steven with him – and for the first time in a while, I don't follow him.  I head left in search of Veleno, which is an easy task.  Upon observation, I can anticipate finding him on the outskirts of the crowd, probably alone in a corner somewhere.

I will say, I do wish Carmen had remained behind and didn't return to our home with the others.  Ever since Liam and I's life was interwoven together, I'm usually the only women – excluding Zara - within a mile's radius of the house.  I like Zara, I do, but we're in two different points in our lives, meaning other than Liam and Rosie, we don't have much to talk about.  Maybe that's why I've taken a slight liking to Carmen and her company, which explains why I'm missing her right now.

"You don't seem too excited," I excuse my way out the crowd, finding Veleno exactly where I expected him to be – alone.

His bicep covers the side of his face as I approach.  He's bent at the waist, busy trying to slip out of a thigh holster.  I watch carefully as he drops the accessory to the table and starts working on his Kevlar vest.  Our eyes – his eye – locks with mine as he pulls the heavy material over his head and I watch, with a dry throat, as his muscles flex.  They resume a resting position underneath the black, skin tight Nike shirt.

His eye pierces my soul and I lean a little to my left, letting my hip rest against the table.

"We get it," I throw my arms across my chest and send him a teasing smile.  "You're hot."

Veleno rests the Kevlar on the table with a laugh.  He unholsters his final weapon and sets it down as well.  "You're not so bad yourself, Ms. Crawford."

Heat rushes to my cheeks.

Veleno turns to face me.  The table supports most of his weight as he rests his thigh against it.  "Why would I get excited for doing my job?"

I roll my eyes.  "I swear to God you have no idea how to have fun."

Veleno's facial expressions hardly vary, but I swear he's trying to look offended.  "I know how to have fun."

"Then you'll come with us tonight?"  I turn to my right, where two men that took part in the raid stand together, faces flushes and smiles bright.  The other nods as his friend talks.  "A couple of us thought it would be a good idea to go out and celebrate tonight's success."

"It was a minuscule raid," Veleno snaps with a bit of attitude.  "A raid that they never saw coming, one they weren't prepared for.  If we fucked that up, I would be concerned.  There's no reason to celebrate."

"You have to celebrate the little victories too, Veleno," The kind man steps back and motions toward the buzzing group of men.  "And for the first time since you got here, most of us are actually glad to have you.  So prove the little lady wrong," His eyes dance over me for just a second, "And come have fun with us tonight."

Veleno sets his jaw.  "Fine, but I'm the designated driver."

The two men laugh.  Their boisterous laughter not only draws the attention of a few other people but brings a smile to my lips.

Veleno is the only one who's lips are still positioned in a frown.

Through a series of chuckles, the quieter man points out.  "I refuse to believe you can't put down a few drinks."

"I can handle myself at a bar," Veleno takes a step forward, drawing the three of us to him like an invisible magnet.  He lowers his voice; in tone, not volume.  "But once I get started, I typically can't stop and I'm an angry drunk. My skill set and my drunk state of mind is...dangerous."

"I can finish all the drinks that you set in front of me," He continues, "But how many people are willing to die for it?"

"Gentleman." Liam's voice rings out behind me.  He stands between the two men, a hand on either of their shoulders, gathering their attention.  Austin and Steven stand a little further back, with Steven clutching the rolled up blueprints that were found inside the Russian's home.  "Give us a few minutes, please."

The two quickly scurry away, but I'm pretty sure it was Veleno's parting words that terrified them more than Liam.

As soon as they're gone, Liam steps forward, his hand extended.  "You did amazing."

Veleno and Liam share a brief brotherly hug before pulling away.  "Thank you," is all the assassin has to say.

"No, thank you," Liam insists.  "You don't have to take orders from me, or work for me.  I'm not your king."

Veleno smirks, allowing a soft laugh to escape.  "You're right.  You aren't.  Mine's on bedrest."  Everyone laughs, including me.  "So, for now, you feel free to give me a name, a picture, or an address and I'll do everything I can to bring their head to you if that means avenging the De Santis family and taking everything away from Valentin."

"You have my word."  Liam pats Veleno on the chest and steps back.  "But for tonight?  You rest, recover, and relax."  He points a finger at Veleno and gives him a look.  "That's an order."

Veleno bows his head.  "Yes, Sir."

"You ready to leave?"

I blink, unaware that Liam is now talking to me.  My eyelids are heavy and I'm exhausted, but I'm not ready to leave.  Not yet.  I shake my head.

"Give me five minutes?"

Liam agrees to it.  Both Austin and Steven offer Veleno an encouraging pat on the shoulder before following their boss out the room.

Veleno looks down on me now that we're alone.   "Five more minutes?"

"V, hey!" The same voice from earlier shouts above the thinning crowd as everyone begins to disperse.  I don't turn around to look, instead I watch Veleno, whose attention now drifts across the room.  "Everyone's going to get ready before we head out.  You coming?"

Veleno's attention drops back to me as he responds, "I'll be there in a minute."

"I just wanted to ask you a question," I glance around the nearly empty room as the last guy scatters out in search of his friends.  "But it isn't important.  You should go, have fun."  I step to the side, opening up a path between Veleno and the door.

He doesn't even appear to entertain the idea of leaving now.  "What's your question?"

I inhale sharply and ask before my nerves can get the best of me.  "The woman that you shot tonight," My eyes find his and I do everything I can to focus on the intensity of the blue one.  "...I was mad at you because I thought you killed an innocent woman, and I don't...I guess, how did you know that she had a bomb on her?  How did you know that you weren't putting a bullet through the eyes of an innocent woman?"

My litany of questions hang in the air far too long.  I find myself missing the loud, obnoxious chatter of men inside the room.  I wish for nothing more than for them all to come flooding back in, making the room feel tight and uncomfortable – at least that would ease the hundreds of thoughts (and potential answers to my questions) that are now running through my mind.

I simply can't read him.  I can't read Veleno.  No matter how long I stand here, awaiting his response and darting my gaze from one eye to the other.  The blue in his eye reminds me of ice; cold and unforgiving, but even the slight white haze over the other reminds me of the exact same thing.  Cold. Unforgiving.

My stomach drops at my epiphany.

"You didn't know," I breathe out in conclusion.  "You didn't know she had a bomb strapped to her."

He speaks in monotone.  "I did what I was trained to do."

I call him out on it.  "Bullshit.  To shoot anything that moves?  You're nothing like—"

Veleno's palm presses against my mouth, muffling the pronunciation of my late friend's name.  His long fingers claw at the skin around my mouth, suctioning his hand to my face.  I breathe heavily, the sound making an odd noise as air escapes through the separation between his fingers.

"You're right." His eyes narrow as he pulls me to him.  The slight movement hurts as his nails scrape the sensitive skin on my cheek.  "I'm nothing like the man I'm always being compared to.  Torture broke him!"  Veleno's face nears mine.  His lips brush the back of his own hand as the look in his eye intensifies.  And in a voice so calm, and cool – chill inducing, really, he whispers, "And what broke him, fuels me."

I stumble backwards as Veleno releases me.  The same muggy, sweat-smelling air rushes into my lungs and I've never been more grateful.  I gently rub the skin around my mouth, trying to ease the slight discomfort.

I glare up at Veleno, who stands there, watching me.  "Don't you ever lay a hand on me again."  I lay a hand on my own chest as I take a small step in his direction.  "I can't hurt you.  I, physically, cannot do a thing to you.  That fight would not be fair, but just like my boyfriend, I have an army.  I have men that would not only die for him, but for me as well and I know damn well if they knew that you touched me they'd come for you."

Veleno gives me a good once over.  "Let them come."

I glare as Veleno rolls his shoulders back.  "Your speech was inspiring, but not fear inducing.  Not much can do that to me anymore." He takes a cautious step forward, trying to gage my reaction.  I don't step back, inviting him closer.  "Don't sound so surprised next time I do something ethically questionable..."

His eyes meet mine.

"You're just getting to know me," Veleno bows his head slightly and glances up, "my Queen."

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

I can't sleep.

Maybe I'm overthinking it all, but tonight feels different.  Liam and I have been sharing a bed long before we made it official, but it doesn't feel like we're sharing it tonight.

I cling to the edge of my side of the bed and refuse to move.  I refuse to cross the invisible barrier that splits the mattress right down the center – separating his side from mine.

The clock reads 3:30 in the morning as I slide out of bed, grab my phone off the nightstand, and make my way into the bathroom.  I shut the door and turn on the dimmest light before dropping down on the lid of the toilet seat.

And I cry.

And I regret every decision I ever made that led me to be here.  To be involved in a life I don't think I'll ever truly understand.  To be so involved with a group of people – a family – and mourning the loss of one like a part of myself had died.  To be involved with a man like Liam Elijah Luciano.

I laugh through my tears.  "I should've married a lawyer like mom said."

At the thought of the woman who raised me, I flip my phone over and dial her number by heart.  My eyes flicker to the time as the call prepares to get through.  It's around 6:30 on the east coast, meaning she should be awake and heading to work.

I ease the phone up to my head and close my eyes as the tone hums in my ear.

I frown and pull the phone away once it sends me to voicemail.  My mother's voice is faint as her recording plays, informing anyone who's trying to reach her that she's sorry for missing their call and to leave a message after the beep.

Tilting the bottom of my iPhone to my lips, I speak softly, but clearly.  "Hey, mom." I clear my throat, not wanting to hint to her that I'm upset.  "We haven't talked in a...few days, well, a while, I suppose.  I miss you and just wanted to hear you and dad's voice.  I love you, talk to you soon."

I end the call.

It takes about fifteen minutes for me to dry my tear stained cheeks and splash cool water on my face.  I dab my skin dry with a towel before clutching the doorknob and turning, only to stop immediately at the sound of Liam's hushed voice.

I don't dare try and crack the door, instead I press my ear against it and listen.

"—what did I tell you about calling me this early?"  Liam is trying to whisper, but even at a low volume I can tell that he isn't upset.  His voice fades and I grip the doorknob even tighter, annoyed that I missed a few words in between. "—Faith doesn't k..." The mattress creaks at the perfect moment and I groan.  "—nobody does."

Bracing myself for the worst, I open a crack in the door and peer through.  Liam's legs are intertwined within the covers while his upper body lies on top.  He's staring up at the ceiling with the phone pressed against his ear.  He doesn't notice me at all.

"—I promise, I'll tell her eventually, it just hasn't come up yet."  A smile passes across his lips and something inside of me clenches tight.  He doesn't smile that much when I talk to him.  "—no, thank you.  You give me hope."  His smile grows and he does everything he can to muffle his laugh.  "I hate you so much.  I'll talk to you later, when the sun actually comes up here."

I, Faith Crawford, have stared death right in the eyes – I've come face to face with the deadliest assassins of this generation and I've stared down the barrel of quite a few weapons, but nothing has ever caused my heart to beat as hard and as fast as it is now.  My hands are sweating, and I can hear my heart beating in my ears.

With a hand on my chest and a few deep breaths taken in and out, I throw open the door.

"You do this shit and then you act so goddamn hurt and surprised when I accuse you of cheating on me."

Liam's head is resting on his pillow as I enter.  I can see his silhouette as he sits up, but I can't see the expression on his face and I'm glad.  Just by the tone of his voice, I can sense an eyeroll.

"Faith, what are you talking about.  We talked about this whole cheating thing already."

I march to the nightstand and flip on the lamp.  Liam flinches and raises his forearm, blocking out the bright light from my insensitive move.

I let him see me shrug.  "Then I guess I didn't believe you."

"What more do you want me to say?" Liam's eyebrows are scrunched together, but I can't tell if he's getting upset or it the light is still irritating his eyes.

"I want you to tell me the truth!"

With wide eyes and mouth agape, Liam looks around, bewildered.  "Okay," He says slowly.  A pause forms between sentences.  "No," He draws out the two letter, one syllable word for as long as he can.  "I'm not cheating on you."

I roll my eyes.

"Oh my God—" Liam falls back on the mattress and grabs his spare pillow.  He yanks the pillow over his head and briefly lets out his frustrations.  It isn't until he throws the pillow away from the bed and sits up do I speak again.

"Who the hell are you conveniently talking to at three in the morning once I get up and go to the bathroom?" I don't pause long enough for him to answer.  "Where the hell were you, are you, when you leave the house late in the evening and return once the sun comes up?"

Looking exhausted, Liam sighs.  "I'm in meetings, Faith.  I've explained this so many times."

I drop to the edge of the bed with my back to him.

When I don't respond, the mattress shifts as Liam moves.  "Faith, we've been dating since end of August of 2015.  I've had late meetings since then and you've always understood.  So, why are you having such a hard time believing where I was the last few months in particular?"

My vision blurs and I curse underneath my breath.

For just a second, I begin to see that maybe Liam hasn't been the problem – maybe it's been me this entire time.

"I started to hate myself," I admit.

Liam's "What?" comes out breathlessly.

I slap the mattress, pissed off that I have to repeat a confession I never wanted to say in the first place.  "I started to hate myself, and I thought you were beginning to hate me too.  I've said this before and I'm going to say this again.  You stopped paying attention to me.  Why the hell do you think I dyed my hair?"  I point to the messy, brown bun atop my head.  "I wanted to do something to get your attention and that didn't work."

Liam releases a pained breath from somewhere behind me.

"You're beautiful," I admit. "You're a gorgeous man and if I can see that, every other woman can see it.  So you go out to these clubs or wherever you people have your sketchy-ass meetings at and beautiful women with flawless makeup, long hair, and tight dresses serve you like the king you are and then you come home to me—" I stand up and turn to face Liam, who's mouth is slightly parted.  I motion towards my pajamas and makeup-less complexion.  "—either drooling on my pillow or dressed like this."

It's been a while since I felt uncomfortable being underneath Liam's gaze.  His eyes drift all the way to my feet and up again, repeating their journey a couple times.  I fold my arms around myself and squeeze.

"And then I gained a little weight and I hate it.  I think I look horrible.  And it doesn't help that you keep yelling at me. It makes me feel like it's all my fault when all I'm trying to do—" My voice cracks as tears prick the corner of my eyes, falling seconds later.  I squeeze my eyes shut and try to even my breathing.  It doesn't help.

My shoulders begin to shake as I stumble to my left, desperately trying to reach the bathroom and lock myself inside after making a complete fool out of myself.  I don't think I even make it halfway there when I bump against Liam's chest.  His arms circle around me seconds later.

"—Help." I finally choke out.  "I'm just trying to help."

"Faith," He whispers my name a few times before I pull away and glance up.  He brushes a strand of hair away from my forehead, eyeing it with more appreciation than ever before now knowing that I had done it for him.  "I'm 29.  Those women? Yes, they're beautiful, and if I was 21 again, maybe they would tempt me, but I'm going to be 30 in January." He wipes away a tear with a slight smile.  "I'm not looking for a one-night stand, I'm looking for a wife."

I pull his hand away from my face as he sighs.

He runs his hand down the side of my face with a somber look.  "I don't hate you, and I don't think you should hate yourself."

I feel him leave a kiss on top of my head.  "I'm so sorry for taking my anger out on you." He steps back and holds his hands out, cradling my face.  I lean into a hand and release a breath.  "You're cute, so you're easy to yell at.

I snort.  "Gee, thanks."

"I could snap at Veleno, but—" Liam playfully grabs my bicep and shakes.  His hand is nearly large enough to grasp the entire thing in his hand.  "—have you seen his biceps?  Those things are lethal—"

Laughing, I slap Liam's chest as he takes a couple steps back.  "Stop," I murmur at his teasing, all while trying to fight a faint smile.

Extending his arms, Liam invites me to step forward.  I do and lean my head on his chest in the process.  "I'm sorry for snapping at you, but I think I'm even sorrier for making you think I'm cheating on you.  I'm not, Faith. I—"

Liam goes silent.

He kisses the top of my head again and mumbles against my scalp.  "I'm a lot of things..."  There's a pause that induces worry in the pit of my stomach.  Then he finishes with, "but I'm not a cheater."

"A part of me believes you, but the insecure part of me doesn't." My chin grazes his chest as I look up at him.  "You're hiding things from me, like whatever it is that Dominic mentioned, and you take phone calls at three in the morning while I'm in the bathroom, Liam.  You can't blame me for assuming."

Liam creates a good amount of distance between us as he shakes his hand through his bed head.  "I was talking to my contractor."

"Oh, okay," My tone is light, playful, and drenched with sarcasm.  I clench my jaw, narrow my eyes, and let him have it.  If I wasn't worried about waking up the entire floor, I might've yelled.  "At three o'clock in the morning? W-Why do you—Liam, we're living in a brand-new house.  The family is living in a brand-new house.  Why the hell do you need a contractor?"

He mumbles something that I can't hear.

I inch closer, my expression urging him to speak louder.

"I'm building it back."

I'm completely lost, and I know my face shows that.  "Building what back?"

Liam's eyes snap up to mine and I witness the fire spark behind them.  "I'm building Vince's kingdom back."

"Liam..."  Words are forming, but none are coming out.  I move towards him, only to have him move past me.  It was nothing like him avoiding me yesterday.  I didn't feel hurt by it.

"I'm building it back, Faith," He turns around to face me.  "I'm building it back right where they burned it down as a fuck you and an I dare you to do it again to the Russians."

Liam licks his lips.  "I was going to tell you, I just never found the right moment." He sways in his stance.  "I have as many people working on the project as I possibly can.  I wanted to have it done by late December, around Christmas so that I could wrap the key and give it to Vince."  Luciano lifts his shoulders in a shrug.  "But...nobody else knows, so..."

My temples pulse as a litany of questions and thoughts run through my mind.  I'm impressed, surprised even that Liam would take a task as great as this one and try to deal with it by himself for now.  But I'm also concerned with the fact that nobody else knows, because that would mean this isn't what Dom had been hinting at the other day.  There's something else.

"Who's going to sit on the throne?" I tilt my head to the side.  "Vince has said multiple times that he's done."

It's a question Liam hadn't prepared for.  "That isn't my problem.  I'm here to make a statement, not run two empires at once."  Maybe it's the disappointed look in my face at his answer that causes Liam to sigh and add, "But if I had to guess?  The only choice Vince would have is to make Veleno king."

A period of time lapses where nobody talks.  I nod, clear my throat, and change to topic.  "If this is something that nobody else knows, then what was Dom talking about the other day?"  Liam purposely looks at me like he has no idea what I'm talking about.  "Oh, come on, Liam you know exactly what I'm talking about—"

Liam looks away, again.  "Faith, I can't—"

"What are you hiding from me?"  At his silence, I persist, "If you aren't cheating...if it isn't the project in Detroit, then what—"

"I broke a promise."  Liam talks so fast it takes a second for the words to sink in.

"Okay," I approach Liam cautiously, hoping to ease the obvious tension in his shoulders.  I rest my hands on either side of his abdomen.  His skin is warm beneath my touch.  I try and keep my voice even and calm.  "What promise did you break?"

Liam shakes his head.  "Valentin is a serious threat, Faith—"

"Liam, what promise did you break?"

"—I'm doing what I have to do."

I move back.  "Liam Elijah, what promise did you break?"

"You have to understand," He sounds desperate as he drags his hands through his hair, down over his temple, his forehead, and down the sides of his face.  "Every decision that I make, Faith – I do to protect you and Rosie because if I lost either of you, I'd lose myself."

My chest is beginning to hurt.

"What did you do?"

He releases a breath.  "I did something Michael would've done."

I don't have a damn clue what that could possibly be, but my stomach still drops.

Something flickers and fades in his beautiful brown eyes, almost like a glimmer of innocence just died.

"I am my father's son after all."

And I swear I feel a piece of the foundation of the Luciano empire crumble beneath my feet.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

"Am I in trouble?"

Rosalie stands in the living room, clutching the straps of her princess themed backpack, which I heard her complaining to Zara about just a few minutes ago during breakfast.  Apparently, she wants a king themed backpack, since according to her, that's what she is.

I lean back against the plush sofa and yawn.  It doesn't take a genius to realize I didn't get enough sleep last night.  After Liam and I's talk at three o'clock in the morning, neither of us fell asleep again.  The only reason we rolled out of bed at fifteen minutes to six is because of Zara's cooking.

Breakfast was so delicious that even Dominic had come down from his room to join us, but unfortunately for Liam and I, it was rushed.  With Rosalie scheduled to leave for school in a little less than thirty minutes, and Liam's day being jam packed with things to do and people to speak with, we thought this morning would be the best – and only – opportunity we had to talk with Rosalie.

My fingers tighten around the manila folder containing Rosie's artistic appreciation of a popular weapon.

Liam clasps his hands together and forms a fist.  "No.  There's just a few things I need to be honest with you about."

The little girl blinks.  "Okay."

She slides her backpack off her shoulders and lowers herself into a complicated crisscross sitting position at our feet.  With her hands on her knees, she glances up and between the two of us, awaiting someone to speak first.  Liam and I share a glance.

Leaning forward, Liam lowers his voice a bit.  "You know I love you, right?"

Rosie nods.

He pauses, searching for the right words.  "Your life is different, I'm sure you've noticed."

She nods again.

Moments pass by as Liam struggles to move forward, unsure exactly as to how he plans on wording everything.  I want to help him and although I know what we're trying to accomplish with our chat, I'm not sure either as to how to get there.

"You can't protect me from this anymore."  Rosie's voice breaks the lingering silence.  Liam and I both turn to stare at her.

Liam's hand immediately clenches.  "I want t—"

"I lost my mom, because my life is different."  Rosalie's voice is calm and steady.  "I lost Michael because my life is different." Her eyes lift to Liam's and I can see the tears beginning to form.  "I lost my uncle, because my life is different.  And every night I go to bed scared because when I wake up, you might not be there because my life is different."

Her chest shudders as she takes in and releases a shaky breath.

She's risen to her feet and her hands have formed small fists.  "I never have birthday parties or sleepovers like everyone else at my school because you've never let me invite anyone over--!"

"You know why—" Liam defends.

"—I never get to bring someone to school to talk about their job like everyone else does! They always bring their parents and I don't have any parents to bring because—" Rosie swallows frustrated tears.  "And I can't bring my uncle's and I can't bring my stupid brother because my life is different."

Liam and I both heave a sigh at Rosie's rant.

She drops to the floor in a huff.  "I know what you do," Rosie admits to her brother.  "I know what Michael did.  I know what Uncle Vince does.  I know that Uncle Veleno kills people and I know Uncle Rico did the same thing." And in a whisper, she adds.  "I know what you are."

"What am I?" Liam's eyes narrow.

Rosalie lifts her eyes to his and softly responds with, "A bad guy."

Air rushes out of Liam's mouth like he's just been sucker punched, and I, too, am feeling the effects.   I watch him struggle to recover, to say anything to defend himself, but even he knows it's true.  They're all bad guys.

"I'm not mad that you're trying to protect me, I'm annoyed because you're babying me.  I just want you to tell me the truth sometimes, so I don't always feel like a..." Rosie waves her hand in the air, unable to find a word that would properly fit.

"An outcast?" I offer up.

Silently, she nods.

"You really believe I'm a bad guy?" Liam backtracks in question.

"Uncle Vince is a bad guy," Rosie explains slowly.  "Uncle Veleno is a bad guy.  Uncle Dom is a bad guy.  Mr. Xavier is a bad guy.  Uncle Rico was a bad guy, and you?  You're a bad guy.  All of you are bad guys; but you're bad guys doing everything you can to protect good people."

Rosalie has risen to her feet during and moved closer to be near his brother.  Liam parts his legs so that she can move in between them.  Her knees hit the edge of the sofa as she leans forward, letting both of her tiny hands clasp the sides of his jaw.

"Even though I know what you all are, I love every single one of my uncle's."

Liam lays a hand on top of hers.  "And all of your uncle's love you just the same."

"But I only have one brother," A sly smile passes over her face.  "And I love him the most."

Liam looks in my direction, away from Rosalie's face to keep her from spotting the tears in his eyes.  He tugs her close for a hug and while her face is buried in the side of his neck, Liam uses his hand to fan his face to dry his unfallen tears.

We smile at one another, and I laugh quietly.

"And I love you even more." He leaves a kiss on her temple before the two pull away.

Rosie suddenly looks to me.  "I love you too, Ms. Faith.  Don't ever doubt it."

My heart swells.  "I never will, Rosie."

"I promise to be more honest with you about what's going on," Liam's hand finds Rosie's waist, which he shakes to draw her attention back to him.  He lifts an eyebrow, making sure she's heard what he said.  "Okay?"

"Okay."

"Yo, King," Veleno appears at the doorway with a set of keys dangling from his fingers.  "You ready to go?"

"Yeah!" Rosalie goes to reach for her backpack, but Liam uses her shirt to tug her back to him.  She lets out a disgruntled breath at the fact that she can't out muscle him.  "Liam!" She groans.  "I'm going to be late for school—"

"I did have one other thing to talk to you about."

"Can it wait?"

With a look from Liam, I know it's my turn to make the next move.  I lift the folder and flip it open, revealing the beautifully drawn photo to the little girl.  Her eyes widen like she's just been caught stealing red-handed.

Veleno quietly moves inside the room, eyeing the photograph with a look I've never seen him share with anything else before.  He almost – almost – looked interested.  His lips move and although no sound comes from them, I can confirm that he's said, "Wow."

"Your teacher said you drew this." Liam explains.  The tone of his voice is light, making sure Rosie doesn't suspect the anger behind it.  "Rosie...it's..."  Everyone glances at the picture.

"It's amazing," I breathe out in admiration.

At the length of the little girl's silence, Liam alters his approach.  "I didn't know you could draw."

Rosalie's eyes scan the familiar panting, and for a while she doesn't blink.

"Rosie," I clear my throat, "This type of thing could get your brother in a lot of trouble."

She finally blinks and looks to me.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to."

"And your grades," I continue.

"I'll fix them," She responds quickly.  "Don't worry."

Liam sighs.  "Why would you even draw a gun, Rosalie? You know better than that."

"It's..." Shaking her head, Rosie breaks out of Liam's grasp and picks up her backpack.  "It's not a gun.  Can we go now?"

Liam stands.  "Not until you tell me what possessed you to draw a firearm in class.  Why couldn't you draw flowers?"

She throws her arms through the straps in her bag and moves to head out the room, blatantly ignoring Liam's questions.  Veleno flinches towards the little girl but remains still – knowing that it's not his place to touch the child, even if it's obvious that he doesn't agree with her disrespectful behavior.

Luciano reaches her in a matter of seconds.  He grabs her arm and spins her towards him.  "Rosalie Marie Peters Luciano – and whatever the hell all your other names may be, why did you draw a gun in class?"

"It's not a gun!"

Liam leans back and looks me in the eye.  He points toward the drawing.  "Faith, is that a gun?"

I nod.

He turns to Veleno.  "Is that a gun?"

Veleno confirms with a mumbled, "Yes."

Liam turns back to Rosie with his point made.

The little girl is adamantly shaking her head.  "It's not a gun.  It's more than that.  It's Charmaine."

The entire feel of the room shifts.  Liam and Veleno both take a staggered step back and if I wasn't still seated, I know I would have as well.  Veleno mutters, "Jesus," in an exasperated fashion as Liam eyes his sister down.  I glance down at the drawing I'm holding and the tips of my fingers suddenly feel warm.

The words that follow come from Liam and they weigh heavier than anything I've heard him say in a long time.

"I am so sorry."

He stops there, but even I can imagine all the detailed reason's as to why he's sorry.  He's sorry she's even involved in this life.  He's sorry for all the various people she's lost in a short amount of time.  He's sorry for not being the brother she not only needs but wants.  He's sorry she can't live a normal life.  He's sorry for reasons he can't even control and knowing that hurts me.

Liam draws himself down to his knees so that they can be on the same level.

Rosie looks away and wipes at her eyes.  "It's okay."

"I understand what you're going through, but I need you to promise me that you'll never draw something like that again.  Not out in public.  Okay?"

She seems to contemplate his request.  "Only if you promise me something."

"And what is that?"

"Every year we have a day where the kids bring their parents to school and they get up in front the class and introduce them and tell the class what they do.  I've never brought anyone before, and they make fun of me because of it."  Rosie swallows hard.  "I want to bring you, and all my uncle's."

Liam is already shaking his head.  "Rosie—"

"I know I can't tell anyone what you do, but it's more than just that.  I can bring you all and just show my classmates that king's really do exist!"  She lets out a breath and adds more quietly, "Maybe then they'll stop teasing me."

Without a word, Luciano pulls his sister into a tight hug, wordlessly sealing the promise to one day do exactly as she has requested.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

It's another day I haven't gone to school, let alone thought much of it.  The responsible part of me continues to remind myself to hurry and drop my classes before it's too late, but the other half of me doesn't want to go anywhere near the school.

For the first time in a long time, I curl up on the couch and scan the channels.  The house is quiet, despite everyone being home today.  Liam has barricaded himself inside his office.  Veleno, once returning home from dropping Rosie off at school, is out for a quick jog.  Zara has decided to stay home from the office today and because of that, Carmen is here as well.  Zara is upstairs with a nurse whose come by to check on Vincenzo's recovery.  The only person whose current whereabouts I'm unsure of are Dominic's.

I toss the cotton blanket off my legs and head upstairs for a quick wellness check on Dom.  I knock briefly on his door, but don't wait for his approval.  I twist the knob on his door and walk in, only to find him and Carmen lying innocently on the bed, eyeing the bright screen of a laptop as if their lives depend on it.

"I didn't know we were having a party," I tease as I shut the door.

Neither of them respond.

I try again.  "What are you guys doing?"

"I'm doing what you suggested."  Dominic's forefinger drags down the square mousepad, his eyes never leaving the monitor.  "I'm trying to find my little—our little brother."

I climb on the edge of the bed and lie on my stomach, craning my head around to get a glimpse at the laptop.  He's got multiple tabs open and every so often he switches between the two.  One appears to be on the homepage of an orphanage in Florida, while the other is stuck on a google search page for Orphanages in Detroit, Michigan.

"How's it going?"

Dominic scrunches up his face to signal that it isn't going well.

Carmen uses her elbows to lean up.  "We started by trying to reach out to the orphanage Dom was dropped off at, but of course, anybody who was working there at that time is either gone or dead."

"I was trying to look for the orphanage that Rico was left at as well, but I remember him telling me that it burned down."

"Do you know the address?" I question, "Maybe they built it back on the same lot."

The two shake their heads in unison.  "Vince was able to give me a street, but I've already looked.  There's no orphanages anywhere near that location."

Carmen suddenly snaps as an idea comes to mind.  "You know your parents names, right?  Can you put them in google and see if anything comes up?"

"Tried that already and nothing."

"Maybe you should just call around to the different orphanages in Detroit and see if anyone recognizes his birthname?"

Dominic shakes his head at me.  "Done that.  Nobody knows a Grayson Justin Chandler."

Carmen snorts out a laugh as she falls back on Dom's pillow.  "His name sounds so white."

"Why Florida, though?" Dom's question surprises the both of us.  "Why Michigan?"

"Maybe between the time you and Rico were born, they moved," I suggest.

Dom's questions continue to flow, almost as if he didn't hear me at all.  "Why did they have three children if they didn't want them?"

Carmen answers warily.  She rests a comforting hand on his arm.  "Dom, some people...they don't want kids—"

"—Then stop having sex!"

"It's clearly not that easy," I mutter.

"Three children," Dominic turns back to his screen, which now displays a map of the United States.  "I can only assume that they left the third one at an orphanage too.  Me, in Florida," Dom presses his thumb to the screen, right above the state he's just mentioned.  "Rico, in Michigan."

"And the third one..." Carmen waves her fingers over the screen.  "Somewhere out there."

I glance at Dom.  "Have they ever tried to contact you?"

"No."

"What about Rico?" Carmen asks.

"No," Dominic's teeth grind together as he scans the map.  "They never did."

Sensing his frustration, Carmen slowly eases the laptop closed.  Dominic doesn't protest, and instead, he rests his head on the mattress and whispers something about not being able to understand.  I watch him squeezes his eyes closed and his jaw tightens in the process.  Carmen runs a comforting hand over his back as he lifts his own to his eyes, hoping to hide his tears of frustration from the both of us.  I pat his leg.

His sobs of pent up frustration, including a mixture of every other emotion he's been feeling only last for a brief second.  There's a knock on the bedroom door, and I call out in answer.  Liam and Veleno walk in, practically talking at the same time.  Their voices are loud, a far contrast to the quiet, peaceful moment we were sharing.

I raise a hand to silence them both and whisper as loudly as I can.  "What's going on?"

Moving to stand beside him, Veleno positions his arms behind his back.  "Valentin watched me leash his men and make bitches out of them all and now he's pissed."

There's a gleam in his eyes as he says that.

"That's one way to put it." Liam says.  "I got a call from the family.  Valentin wants to speak with me via facetime." He holds out his hand.  "I want you there with me.  I want you by my side."

Liam makes eye contact with Veleno.  "And I want you at my side, because you know what this means."

Veleno smiles.

Or dare I say, bares his fangs.

And in a deep, threatening manner, with an accent thicker than I had ever before, Veleno explains exactly why Liam wants him by his side during the call.

One name.

One meaning.

One threat that I don't think we'll ever be ready for.

"Diavolo."

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Liam is holding my hand like I'm his lifeline.

The house is buzzing with activity as we near the moment leading up to Liam and Valentin's chat.  Men position themselves on the outskirts of the room, wanting to be out the way, but close enough to see the screen.  Security manages to push everyone back a few feet as Liam and I enter the large and open family room.

Everyone is here.  Zara and Vince.  Dominic and Carmen.  Austin, Steven, and Veleno.

I barely hear the quick conversation between Liam and the group.  As time begins to wind down and the staff finalizes a few minor details, everyone gets in position.  Soldiers behind us fall back, making sure they're not caught on camera.  Austin and Steven mingle with the group of men in the back, along with Zara, Vince, Dom, and Carmen.

A sickening feeling in my gut forms and I squeeze Liam's hand, getting his attention.  "I'm scared," I admit without looking away from the television.

Veleno positions himself just a step or two behind Liam's right shoulder blade.

Liam squeezes my hand in response.

And suddenly the man that I've heard so much about is standing right in front of me, displayed on the large, sixty-five-inch television that's mounted high on our wall.

Valentin Rostov is tall.  His skin is pale, while his eyes are black – a contrast that makes me shiver in fear.  His hair is like salt and pepper; white with a hint of black sprinkled here and there.  His nose and lips are crooked, from being broken and busted too many times.  He's older than I had imagined him, but that doesn't mean a thing.  With age comes wisdom.

Decorative rings line every single one of his fingers as he stands before us, swaying gently.  His suit is fitted, and his tie is neatly tucked inside his buttoned jacket.  The expensive looking jewelry that dangles around his neck glistens underneath their lights.  And although Valentin looks old enough to be my grandfather, it's clear he takes care of himself.  His shoulders appear to still hold their definition, and I wouldn't be surprised if he was still supporting a flat – and defined – abdomen.

"Mr. Luciano."  His voice sounds like every other Russian male that I've ever heard speak in a movie.  The accent is thick and incredibly harsh.  They could make even the most innocent word sound like a death threat.

"Valentin." Liam greets back.

I stifle a smile.

A Battle of the Accents.

"Let me make something clear, Mr. Luciano."  I can't manage to get past Valentin's harsh and biting tone.  "My problem with you is not personal."

Liam snorts.  "You made this personal when your men stepped foot on the property of a La Cosa Nostra King.  You fuck with one of us, you fuck with us all.  Loyalty, Valentin, but don't think about the concept too hard.  I wouldn't expect a Russian to know what that means."

A wicked grin surpasses Valentin's face as he waves a ring-covered hand around the screen.  "Is...that what American's call shade? And did you just throw it at me?"

Our side of the conversation is silent, but you can hear distinct laughter coming from Valentin's end of the call.  Although he appears to be the only one in the room, it's clear people are hiding in the shadows, out of the camera's sight.

Valentin's serious expression returns.  "I repeat.  My problem with you is not personal.  I don't care about Italian's loyalty.  I care about my revenge, and I'm letting you know that you are standing in the way of that.  I kill your friends to send message."

"And I killed your men to send one right back," Liam responds.

"My revenge does not involve you."  It's clear Rostov is getting agitated.  His English seems to get choppier, less coherent.  "Vincenzo De Santis has killed hundreds of my men.  It's a war that has gone on far too long.  It ends now.  I took everything from him.  I just want to take one more."

One more.

Zara.

"I did some research on you, Valentin."

"Smart boy."

"This feud between you and the De Santis's has been ongoing since Antonio, Vince's father, was king."  Liam lets go out my hand and takes a half-step forward.  His voice deepens and his glare is sharp.  "You haven't made a move on that family in over twenty years and I asked myself, why?  What changed? Why ignite the fire now, when you had twenty years to make the finishing move?"

Valentin's eyelids lower as he focuses on Liam.

Luciano answers for him.  "I'll tell you what changed.  Michael died."

Before Liam can add anymore wood to the smoking fire, Valentin speaks up.  "When Michael Luciano died, criminal organizations all around the world mourned the death of one of the greatest men to ever reign.  They cried, while I planned.  Now that he was dead, I knew it was my chance.  You aren't as powerful as him.  You..." Valentin chuckles.  "You will never intimidate me like he did.  You aren't Michael."

"So I'm told," Liam adds bitterly.  "A lot."

"Then get out of my way."

"I will not let you kill Vince," Liam stands tall, "And I won't let you take my mother."

"Oh, Liam," Valentin sounds like a disappointed parent after their child has done something incredibly wrong.  He backs away from the camera and shakes his head.  He glances about the room.  "Italian's so sensitive.  Not surprised.  The boy they considered their best was a weeping mess.  I beg him to pull trigger so I could stop listening to him cry like pussy."

The room Valentin is in erupts with laughter.

The comment unnerves the room we're standing in, that's obvious.  Men are starting to sway and mumble beneath their breath at the insensitivity of it.  Liam looks absolutely pissed and Veleno is livid.

"Was that your king?" Valentin's taunting words ripple through the room like wildfire.  "Weak and emotional.  If that was the best you had, then you are not prepared for mine. And you...you are doing this, standing in my way, all for your mother?"

"It's called love."

"I know what love is."

The word doesn't exactly sound the same when it comes from the mouth of the Russian mafioso.

"Really?" Liam lifts an eyebrow.  "How is Mrs. Rostov doing?"

Valentin doesn't appreciate the mention of his wife.  His thick eyebrows press together as he changes the topic.  "I have better question.  How many people are you willing to lose before you give me what I want?"

Liam sets his jaw, but doesn't respond.

A flash of black crosses Valentin's screen.

"No idea?" The Russian teases, "Well maybe you can hint at the number to my boy here.  He'd be happy to double it."

And suddenly Valentin isn't the focus of anyone's attention anymore.

Diavolo appears on screen, knocking the breath out of every single person in the room.  Without a clear visual of any facial features, his all-black attire makes him appear to be more of a shadow than an actual person.  For just a moment, he looks shorter than his believed 6'4 height, but once he swings around and maintains a stance right over his father's shoulder, it's confirmed.  He's tall.

The infamous, sheer, black material that he uses to conceal his identity to the public is positioned perfectly around his face.  His entire outfit seems to be made of the same fabric.  It's form-fitting around his shoulders, but loose as it travels down his arms and thighs.  It clings a little tighter around his chest and bunches up around his ankles, only to disappear where his matching black boots start.  His gloves glisten like leather as he adjusts them slowly.

He's staring right at us.

Valentin gently knocks his son's shoulder and briefly makes a motion with his hands.

You can't hear him, but I can only assume Diavolo is chuckling based on the way his shoulders gently shake.

Valentin returns to his previous stance, now with his son standing guard directly behind him.  It's barely noticeable, but he seems happier.  His facial features have lifted a bit and even a smile plays at the corner of his chapped lips.  He looks more at ease, more confident, even.

The Russian throws up his hands and his rings begin to glimmer once more.  "I give you ten minutes to answer the question and still no answer?  I'm not a patient man, Luciano.  Let me ask again.  How many people are you willing to lose?"

Liam is content on not answering the question.

"Italian's," Valentin mutters in disgust, "Always need persuasion."

I focus more on Diavolo as Valentin talks to someone in his native tongue.  The figure sways from left to right.  I probably would've continued to stare if I didn't see a bruised, gagged, and physically beaten figure stumble across the screen.  They fall at Valentin's feet.

"I ask differently this time," Valentin looks up at the camera as he steps to the side, leaving nothing but space between Diavolo and what looks like, will be his next victim.  "Your mother, or hers?"

And for the first time, Valentin Rostov acknowledges me.

The ground tilts underneath my feet.  Diavolo steps forward and with a gloved hand, reaches for Susan Crawford's matted hair.  The woman that raised me, that taught me everything I know.  Whose continued to help me through so much, even after I've moved away.  I hardly recognize her.  Bruises line her face, while a mix of dirt and blood cling to it.  I can see the tears in her eyes as she screams through the cloth that's been jammed in her mouth.

My vision blurs.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey," I feel a strong hand latch onto my waist and attempt to turn me away from the screen.

It's Dominic.

His voice is distant, even though his lips are right against my ear.

I hear so many voices all at once.  I hear Veleno cursing, Liam attempting to diffuse the situation, and Dominic trying to lead me into another room.  Then I hear my own.  I hear myself scream.

"You son of a bitch!" I lunge toward the television, fist clenched as if I'm preparing to lay a punch on Valentin himself.  I don't even make it halfway.  Veleno moves around Liam and engulfs me in an embrace.  He holds tight, no matter how much I twist and turn, struggling with all my might to break free.

"Valentin, Valentin!" Liam has yet to look my way, but the look on his face says it all. "You can have her!" He raises his hand in defeat.  "You can have Zara!  Faith's mom, she's innocent."

Zara pushes through the crowd and joins her son at his side.  "Don't take that woman from her daughter, please."

My heart beats rapidly as Diavolo grips her hair and with one hand, pulls the grown woman to her feet.  He spins her around and steps forward.  The knife in his hand seemingly appears out of nowhere.  Tears rush down my face as he teasingly draws the tip of the blade across her exposed neck.

She whimpers and her cries intensify.

I don't even know what to say, let alone think.

"Mom," my cry to her is weak and utterly pathetic.

"I applaud you, Luciano," Valentin watches Diavolo for a proud moment before looking our way.  "Not many would have answered that question as easily as you did."

Liam's chest rises and falls as he steps forward.  "I swear to God if you even—"

"—I mean what I say.  You are not Michael.  Michael would not have made such crucial mistake.  You order extra security on those close to you, but not those close to her?"

Liam is nothing a blur, but I can tell he's shaking his head.  "Valentin," He breathes out.

"I told you to get out my way.  You didn't."  Valentin's voice is loud in my head as I do everything I can to stay on my feet.  "Let's call this what it is.  War."

I wipe at my eyes, clearing the tears from my eyes just long enough to see what's happening.

Valentin steps to the side, allowing the attention to fall on his son once more.  "Let it be known...that this is the beginning of the end.  The alpha and omega.  It isn't the first death, and I can assure you, it won't be the last."

"Valentin!"  The veins in Liam's neck rise as he stands beside me, feeling just as helpless as myself.

The Don of the Rostov family turns to Diavolo and says something in Russian.

He gives the command.

And I watch the assassin drive the knife through my mother's neck as she screams.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

a/n:  and thus a queen was born.