I'm usually the one that can't function without that first sip. The one cursing the sun's existent and well anyone's for that matter. Waking up to watch the sunrise or take pictures of the sky has never been my thing. This morning laying in this king sized bed with Fabian's arms around me while the sun rises has me questioning everything I know. Maybe I could be one of those women if given the chance.
Just like me Fabian is awake watching as the yellow sun meets the morning sky. I could stay this way with him for eons. I wish I could but I know it's impossible at this point. Clearly there's a conversation we needed to have. One that could make or break our relationship. My heart stutters thinking about all that needs to be said. For our sake I hope our relationship is strong enough to survive. At the beginning I resisted him. I even denied our relationship. Now I relished it in him.
"Buongiorno." A smile finds its way to my lips. He'll never let go of that ridiculous nickname. Where it came from I have no
Idea.
"Buongiorno." My pronunciation has gotten better with all the help from Zaviano and Angelo. I loved being able to speak in his mother language. Whenever I did, a look of wonder found its way to his face. Nothing could compare to the high I get from that look.
"Are you hungry? The chef can prepare-" A knock on the door interrupts his sentence.
"What." Annoyance fills his tone and I can't help but be amused.
Pinching his side I warn him to be nice to wherever is on the other side of the door. I still can remember the last time his sisters were on the other side. It seemed his harsh tone may have hurt Genevieve's feelings. While I would never lie or deny how much his attentiveness meant to me, I never want him to ignore his siblings just to be with me. I adore his relationships with his siblings. It's not something everyone is able to have with their family. Me included. If we were going to be serious at some point I would hope to have a good relationship with them. That's a really big if.
"It's Angelo, can I come in?"
"No. We're indecent." Lies. We are both fully covered under the comforters.
"He's joking, come in." I yell to the door for Angelo to hear. The glare coming from Fabian doesn't deter me one single bit.
"Lennox." A low growl comes from his lips.
"What? I've been dying to see blonde hair and those seafoam eyes."
"Angelo I'll be out in a few minutes just wait for me."
"Whatever." His footsteps retreat from the door.
"You're going to get it." Fabian tickles me until he pulls me from the bed.
Goofily we fall into the bathroom. We brush our teeth, I unwrap my hair, Fabian shapes up his beard. The sight is perfectly domestic. I hardly believe it's me I'm looking at in the mirror.
"Like I was asking before, are you hungry? We can have breakfast together." Not happening there is business for him to handle and I wouldn't distract him from it.
"How about I go have breakfast while you meet with your brother." I smooth out the shirt he put on after we left the bathroom. We both threw on some lounge clothes. My assumptions about me staying here longer than I thought were starting to become reality.
"Fine. Afterwards, I'll show you around the library." He leaves out the part where we'll have our truthful sister circle moment but I read in between the lines. No more running, hiding, or dancing around the topic. Today would be the day of admittance not just for myself but him too.
Yesterday I saw all of those men with defense weapons around his estate. Like they were under his orders and protecting him. From what I have no idea but I needed to know. Each man regarded him with respect and reverence. When they looked at me with the same regard. I had an inkling as to why but I don't want to assume. It's too dangerous to do so. I planned to grill him about it yesterday along with other things like him stalking me at the hospital and holding me against my will.
Somehow I never got to ask the questions I wanted to when he was too busy taking care of me. Feeding me, holding me, even laughing with me. As sad as it is to say, my past relationships in retrospect have been completely lackluster in comparison. We always did the same things, had the same boring conversations, and shared the same dispassionate touches. With Fabian everything is different. I enjoy the sun with him. Even though we work together, and very well at that, he never oversteps and always listens to what I have to say. My words have a different meaning to him. He listens not because I'm right but because he likes to just hear me talk. The words I say matter to him no matter the topic.
After we get ourselves together. Which meant finally stopping our makeout session. I'm a grown woman using words like makeout. I'm fucked. So completely screwed.
"Goodmorning Lennox." Angelo kisses my cheek much to Fabian's chagrin.
"Buongiorno pretty boy." The three of us walk through the hallways to the kitchen.
"You flatter me Lennox." Fabian pulls a chair out for me. The table has baskets of food. Much more than I can eat alone.
"You'll be okay by yourself?"
"Of course. Now go." Spending breakfast alone paled in comparison to the years I spent in solitude. Breakfast alone I could handle.
Another few kisses later he is off to his office presumably. For some reason neither of us could keep our hands off the other today. Nerves? Fear? I'm just as unsure as his kisses are. We're both always the ones in control. Planner and executioner. Uncertainty only drove us insane and sitting here alone only egged on the crippling feeling.
Taking my time I ate the fruit and yogurt along with a cheese croissant. It may be the last time I get to enjoy the massive dining room attached to the kitchen. It's all opulence with pristine furniture. The place is sparkled to perfection so clean you could probably eat off of the floor. I even indulge in a mimosa...or three.
"The view is beautiful isn't it?" Fabian sits at the glass dining table with me. His meeting isn't as long as I hoped it would be. Either that or I just was so caught up with my thoughts that I didn't realize how long it has actually been.
"It's alright. I've seen better." Smoothly I lie but by the smile on his face he can tell I'm lying. The single floor to ceiling window showcases the back of the estate. It's crisp and clear; it feels like a scene out of a movie in real life.
"Mhmm. Did you eat?" He plops a cherry in his mouth to then pull out the stem. It's distracting the way the juice stains his lip. I'm too tempted to lean over and lick it off. The man is the walking definition of sex appeal. I can't help myself but to be drawn in by him. A moth to a flame. Without words he draws passion from me just by merely existing. "Lennox?" I look away needing a reprieve.
"Yup." My tone is too cheery, still he doesn't comment on it. "I'm excited to see the library."
"Uh huh." He eats a few more pieces of fruit before standing from his seat. "It's on the second level."
In all the time I have spent here I haven't even seen an inch of the place. It's grandiose and overwhelming. His room is on the first level. From my understanding the only two who had rooms down here are him and Zandrino.
It's like a maze walking from the kitchen and dining area through the entryway to finally get to the stairs. This place is too huge. Following him my eyes catalog everything that I see. The L shaped stairs are plush with so many steps I think it will lead us to heaven. Instead it brings us to the second level that resembles the first. Tan floors and pristine walls with pictures lining the walls.
At some point we take a right, passing by a series of bedrooms, a home gym until we finally reach the library that's tucked in a corner of the home.
"No one really comes up here anymore." His face looks contrite with disappointment. Maybe this room meant more than what he's said.
When I step inside I can't even begin to understand why it isn't being used. It looks exactly as I would expect it to. Richly brown colors stain the walls. It's the classic embodiment of a library. Colonial style architecture and furniture. Shelves of books surrounding a fireplace. There's no television or any other distracting thing. It's the perfect place for an escape. To be free. On the walls are aristocratic lights and different awards given to any one of the Bianchi's. What catches my attention aren't the high school diplomas or even the humanitarian awards. No. It's the large portrait of a woman and a man placed directly above the fireplace. The woman has sweet blonde hair that falls at her petite shoulders. Seafoam eyes shine reflecting the same smile on her face. She looks exactly like Angelo.
"That's your mother?" The question is more of a statement. The resemblance between her and Angelo is uncanny.
"And my father." My eyes slide over to the man in the picture.
He looks to be a mix of the rest of the Bianchi boys. Strong with bronze skin and observant eyes. Fabian never talked much about his parents but I think that may be changing today. Why else would he let me see their picture so intimately?
"This was her favorite picture of them. It was her birthday. We had just adopted Amara." Pain shines over his low words. "Do you remember what you said last night?"
"Will you tell me the truth?" It had been quiet, the both of us laying in bed tired and restless. The question had been plaguing me since we arrived on his property.
"Will you?" Of course he answered my question with his own.
There is no way for me to lie around the topic anymore. He wouldn't let me go without it. I could see it in his eyes. Feel it in his touch. Hear it in his tone. We had to come together because he wouldn't let us be apart. Disgustingly I find solace in the fact.
"Yes."
"Know that I will too." I know that he will but am I ready?
"By that look on your face I'm guessing you do." There is a small bar cart that he pours drinks for us at. Good. I don't think I can do this completely sober. Tentatively I sit on the leather brown couch right across from the fireplace. "Here. It's whiskey, you'll need it." He hands me the glass then sits right next to me.
"Do we have to do this?" My voice sounds unsure, something I have never been. At least not until meeting him.
"Lennox, you already know the answer." He gulps some of his drink down. I follow behind him. This already isn't starting off the way it should. "We can get through this. Maybe it's best if we did this a question for a question." It's an even way we both get what information we want without the other getting more or less. Smart boy.
"Fine." I agree. "I'll start. Who are all those men surrounding your property?" I had never seen any of them until yesterday.
"They work for me and my family." Nonchalantly he answers the question. "They work for you now too."
"Doing what?" I can't even begin to think that he just gave me authority over his men. That's the best thing I could categorize them as.
"Protecting you." From what or who? I'll have to ask on my next turn. "Now. What does Rebecca Cheyney want from you?" That's not what he wanted to ask me but he's trying to ease us into this thing.
"Easy. Nothing important." His eyebrow shoots up at my words daring me to try to skirt around the question. Still was worth a shot. "Fine. She wanted me to stay away from Jackson Dane. They have unfinished business...I told her to call if..." Do I tell him she's pregnant and Jackson is trying to kill her?
"If what?"
"That's technically another question. My turn." He rolls his eyes but withdraws from pressing me about it. "Why do you need protection?"
"I knew this question would be coming and I'm still not prepared not to answer." He surprises me when he grabs something from the coffee table in front of us. A green scrapbook. "It's a loaded question Lennox. But I will be honest like I promised." He flips through the binder until he finds what he's looking for. "This picture was taken right before my mother found out she was pregnant with Zandrino. That's me on the left and Zaviano on the right of her." They're all dressed in the color black flanking either side of his mother. His father stands behind the stool she's seated on with his hands firmly planted on her shoulders. "The life you see me live today isn't the one I always have had. The money and sense of luxury hasn't always been my life. At one point my family was piss poor. We had nothing in Calabria. My mother would hide me on the beach just for me to have somewhere to rest. The sun would beam down with so much heat you could hardly tell what time of the day it was. With no security my mother convinced my father to move from Italy to New York for more opportunities." I grab his hand when he pulls a deep breath. "When they got here I was three but I remember how difficult it was. She'd work as a maid as she did in Italy but the job was hard to come by in a place like here. My father worked as a mechanic on minimum wage. The first year in the Italian ghettos we lived in seclusion. By the third year my father had made friends with some high names. I'm not really sure how." Poverty brings people together just as culture does. Whoever he met must have seen him in themselves. "At first he started committing petty crimes just to make a little extra money for us. When mom lost the last cleaning job it was my father's breaking point. He immersed himself into the Veele Street Gang until he eventually made his way into the Veele Mafia Family." My hands almost shake at the revelation. The Veele Mafia Family is an infamous Italian crime family, growing up they were the danger that threatened the city according to the mayor.
"Didn't the Veele Family die out or something? I mean they practically fell off the face of the earth." My voice twinges as I speak.
"They did. Because of my father." Our hands break apart. "He took over the Veele Mafia Family, turning it to the Biacii Mafia Family, an ode to our family name. Lennox.."
"Keep going." His lips tighten in his mouth before he gives me what I ask for.
"My father continued on the legacy with the blessing from the eldest Veele member. Him and my mother were able to provide a stable home. She never cleaned for another family again and gave birth to the rest of my brothers. One of the women that escaped Calabria with her passed away. At one point she lived in a section of the same ghettos as we did. Hearing about her and her husband's untimely death hurt her heart. Apparently Amara's mother was good, it's the one way she always described her. We adopted her, keeping it a secret was imperative. The only daughter to the leader of one of the most affluent criminal organizations would pull many people's attention." That's why someone took her. "Still she was abducted. It broke my mother. So much to the point she died from a heart attack I-"
"Fabian, it's okay. We'll stop." I wanted to make it easy on him. The unshed tears in his eyes pulled at my soul. My entirety grieves for what he has had to experience at such a young age.
"I promised. I won't break it." I nod my head giving him my attention whenever he's ready. My clients always liked that. "I was fifteen when she passed away. We were abandoned by our father. It's like he couldn't be around us without losing his shit. Someone had to protect them. My father had been fucking up the business which gave me the in I needed to overthrow his authority. To the organization he was transferring the position to me but it was either that or death by the russians."
"How'd you know the russians?"
"The Petrov's were very fond of my mother. As the Biacii Family rose in success the more he was exposed to other crime families. They had many kids like my mother and father. They were glad to help. With the transfer of power I became the head." Clearly there are things that happened in the middle that I would grill him about another time. "It only lasted a few years until I had established the labs and myself. Then I transitioned the power on to someone else."
"Labs?"
"Just listen please?" This can't be good. I'm almost ready to turn and run out the door. What more could he say? Isn't this enough? "Labs are the place where products are produced or grown?"
"And what products do you produce?"
"Lennox.."
"Tell me now. Or I walk out that door and you will never see me again in your life." The confidence in my voice almost fools me. Honestly I know he wouldn't even let me get through that door let alone out the house.
"Drugs. Depressants, stimulants, hallucinogens, almost all of it."
"You're a drug dealer?" His face wrinkles at the term but he doesn't deny it.
"In some sense. Though I don't care much for that term."
"You are what you are. So you sell to the Biacii Family?"
"They're the Morino Crime Family now and yes and no. Some of the labs are strictly my family's, products produced there are sold to outside parties like pharmacies and at times the Russians though not often." So he's the drug dealer to two known crime organizations. Great. "The other labs are strictly used for the Italians; they pay a taxed percentage to use the labs."
"Why don't they open their own labs?" Fabian smirks at my question. Just because I'm annoyed doesn't completely clear my curiosity.
"They're blocked from doing so. I've already claimed all the places where the Veele family established labs. If by chance they did, the Russians would help in ending the Morino family, though I could do it on my own." A sparkling glint shines in his eyes. Cool it this is not the time to be hot and bothered. Literally he just admitted to being a drug dealer. Haven't you dated worst though?
"I don't know what to say Fabian. This is some serious shit. Like illegal shit."
"All parties are consenting adults who know what they're doing. I don't produce crack and only sell fentanyl to hospitals. None of that crap like K-2, meth, or heroine. Most of what we produce are hallucinogens and pills. Lennox-"
"The fact that you even have to explain this to me." What am I doing?
"What is upsetting you right now is it the fact that I am a-"
"Drug dealer."
"Or is it the fact that you didn't know?" Unfortunately we both know the answer.
I'm not upset because of what he does. How could I? My family has prospered off of the pain of New York citizens since before my birth. There were underhanded things I have done. I could never judge him for his own. In a sense I'm a criminal in a completely worse way. A murderer and drug dealer. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.
"That's not the point." The widest smile I have ever seen on his face breaks out. He knows he has me. I am so doomed.