Heartstrings

(7) Vile

Lucas stared out to the city view, a glass of his whiskey in his hand. He had his Captains over earlier tonight. He sent them instructions for the next calculated plan, all the while keeping them vigilant if the truce goes awry. If it did didn't go as planned, at least he's two steps ahead.

A soft knock shattered his thoughts, and he looks over his shoulder. "Enter."

Confused, he waited for the door to reveal the person behind it. His hand gripped the glass tighter when he saw Sophie making her way in, the hem of her nightrobe brushing her knees. Her curly hair was down and a beautiful mess on her shoulders.

"What do you need?" His eyes dropping to the knot of her robe threatening to exhibit the narrowing and flaring of her body.

"I need to make a call." She halted in front of his desk.

He arched a brow. "Why should I trust you with a phone call?"

"Please, I can't sleep another night without making the call." Her eyes went suspiciously glassy. Like she was about to cry.

Lucas should refuse. But he finds himself handing her his phone. "Two minutes."

She smiled, her face a thousandfold breathtaking. She had a sparkle in her blue eyes that made him reluctant to look away. She was happy.

But then, his jaw twitched. "Who are you going to call?"

"My bodyguard."

He distanced his phone an inch.

Her smile slipped. "It's okay. He's loyal to me."

Another inch.

"Fine. If you don't trust me, I'll make the phone call right in front of you." She leaned further over his desk and plucked the phone off his hand.

A loyal bodyguard. Gabby? The lover? He didn't like how it didn't settle right with him. Especially as he watched her dial the number like she's known it by heart.

She held the phone to her ear, watching him wearily. She bit her lip in anticipation and she almost jumped when someone answered on the other line. "I'd like to speak to Gabby, please."

Shit.

The name stung his ears.

The liveliness in her face tore at his ego when she greeted "Gabby." Even more so when her voice went light and gentle, reassuring the person on the other line that she was safe.

He shot her a bored look and gestured at his watch.

Her brows crinkled. She gushes a lot of questions, nodding at the answers on the other end. There was tenderness in her face as she listens. And she laughed so sweetly he wanted to tear the phone away from her ear.

It was the longest two minutes he ever had to stand through. By the time she handed her his phone back, he kept a poker face on however he wanted to scowl at the exchange of 'I love you's.

"If you have men eligible to take your father's place, why make a truce?" His voice came out cool and flat.

"You can't teach a five-year-old to rule no matter how entitled he is to be the next Capo. My brother deserves a better life than the mafia."

The blood circulation in his hand resumed when his fingers relaxed around the glass of his whiskey. He stared at her face.

"What?" She asks, a tint spreading over her cheeks at the boldness of his stare.

He shrugged. "I'm just wondering what you want out of this."

Her eyes dropped to her bare feet. "I want out."

"Out? Out where?"

"Out of this life. I want freedom for me. And my little brother. I want him out before it's too late."

He pierces his gaze on her face, urging her to face him. He wanted to see her eyes.

"You'll have power as long as you give us freedom." She lifted her gaze once more and meet his eagerly. "Claim back all the four Societies."

"And that's all I wanted because...?"

"You're a man. That's what all men in our world want while women want only freedom." She appeared so stiff he could practically see the shackles around her.

He took a swig of his whiskey. "You speak older than you look."

"We have to grow up fast in the world we're born into." She simply shrugged. "You're lucky you're a man. Your shackles offer more ground to walk on than ours."

Her blue eyes steeled as she gave him a challenging. "Shoot me if I'm wrong, Lucas Frazier."

She wasn't. His shackles offered more control and eventually a control to a freedom that only he can give her.

He strolls toward his minibar, pouring himself more whiskey and another glass which he allowed only a few drops.

Sophia watches him, her eyes drawing to the glasses in his hands.

"To freedom." He held out the other glass to him. "You don't have to drink it. We can't have a toast with the other glass empty."

"And power." She surprises him taking the whiskey, clicking his bottle and gulping the meager amount of alcohol. She almost gagged. "How do you enjoy drinking this?"

Lucas almost chuckled.

There was a gold trail of whiskey on the corner of her mouth and his thumb went up to brush it off.

She freezes.

Silence fell. But the door swung open and his brother came in.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw he wasn't alone.

Sophia turned to the newcomer. "Hi. Don't mind me." She sets the glass on his desk.

Jacob smirked. "You're celebrating already. I don't believe we've been properly introduce. I'm Jacob."

"Sophie." She sticks out her hand.

Jacob stares at her hand.

"The Eastern Society don't shake hands?" She asks, genuinely confused.

He laughed. "No. I'm just not sure if I'm allowed to touch you."