xiv | the divinity
a/n: *sign of the cross*
divinity ; the state or quality of being divine.
Messiah ; a leader or savior of a particular group / cause.
edit : i'll be uploading this while im in class so i'll be back to scream with y'all soon xoxoxoxoooo don't cry too much while im gone.
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
There's no time to be scared. Liam lies near my head, unmoving. Droplets of his blood speckle his handsome face from the small, miniscule cuts that the tiny shards of glass create. While Liam remains unconscious, the threat of Diavolo nears. His feet are inches from my head, just outside the shattered window and I repeat, there's no fucking time to be scared.
Being scared usually initiates panic, which initiates bad decisions, which typically leads to certain death.
All I can do is clutch, white-knuckled to my jammed seatbelt and pray it doesn't decide now is the best time to let me go.
I'm hyper-aware of every sound, every smell as I clench my jaw in nervous anticipation. Diavolo drags the tip of his boot along the glass covered asphalt like a bull preparing to attack. I hear the debris crunch beneath his boot, and I see the way it reflects, sparkling underneath the moonlight.
For just a second, I feel at ease, calm. But as quickly as that feeling comes, it goes. Just when I thought Diavolo would turn around, he does the complete and utter opposite. He doesn't crouch slowly, he doesn't even kneel. He throws his legs out from under him, clearly trusting the strength in his upper body to catch him. It does. He lands in a pristine, push-up position, and slowly – oh, so slowly lowers his body to the ground.
His hands are huge.
His leather gloves are scuffed.
He cranes his head and peers through the window.
I don't have to see his eyes to know that he's staring right at me.
And in that moment, I forget the basics. I forget how to breathe, how to blink, how to think. His breathing is heavy, forced, but behind it – behind every breath is a rumble, a growl threatening to rise from the back of his throat. Like a dog, warning his master he doesn't like their company. Like a lion, quietly telling another to back off – that this is his prey.
I can only imagine the color of his eyes. Black. Like every single star in the universe collided, leaving nothing but the abyss. An endless panorama of the night sky, minus every beautiful star we've ever failed to appreciate.
Someone taps Diavolo's lower body, because he immediately whips his head over his shoulder, narrowly missing the frame of the SUV's window. I hear the sound again, rumbling deep in the back of his throat – a warning, but it isn't directed towards me.
"You heard Valentin. We scare them. Not kill them."
I see two pairs of feet, standing on either side of Diavolo's slightly parted legs. This was either the job of merely three Russians, or the rest of their little fleet has retreated to whatever is left of their vehicle. Which, I can only assume, is in better shape than ours.
"Besides," The other Russian pitches in, "You like the chase. This—" I can't see him, but I know he makes some type of gesture towards our totaled car. "—this is not a chase."
Diavolo looks like he's about to obey. He was about to obey. And in any other moment I would cry tears of joy at the sound of Liam's cellphone vibrating against the roof of the car. It's tucked underneath his forearm, but the shattered screen still manages to light up the interior of the dark space. I can't even see who's calling, but at this point it doesn't matter. It's drawn Diavolo's attention on the only person in this car who can't protect them-self.
I retract my previous statement. There is time to be scared. What we don't have time for is a well thought out, calculated plan.
I'm not sure what terrifies me more. The fact that Liam hasn't even budged, despite the phone vibrating against the sleeve of his shirt, or the fact that Diavolo is inching closer to him with every passing second.
Like I said, there's no time to devise a plan.
Liam can't fight back. I can.
That's the plan.
My heart pounds against my chest and I can feel sweat coating my palms as I tug against my seatbelt, willing it to let me free. I'm not scared for myself, I'm not scared for my life, but I'm scared for Liam's. I'm terrified for Liam's.
I guess if I'm scared for his life, then I'm scared for my own.
His life is mine as well.
Diavolo is directly under me – above me – whatever, now. I pause just long enough to witness him wrap a gloved hand around Liam's ankle. Most of his body is inside the crashed vehicle. I hear the distant sound of Russian's arguing, addressing Diavolo in the only way they know how. With commands. But I don't focus on them, I can't, not with the sound of my heartbeat hammering in my ears.
When he starts to pull Liam towards him is when I feel it. Anger. Anger that Diavolo is hurting the man I love. The same man who can't even fight back. The same man who has hundreds of soldiers willing to drop anything for him at the sound of his voice or the snap of his finger. Their king. And watching him being dragged in the assassin's direction like many of his fallen prey is enough. It's the disrespect that angers me the most.
I stab my fingers repeatedly against the ejector button. It's the fifth time that does it. It sets me free.
I land on the planes of Diavolo's back awkwardly; right where the base of my neck and my shoulders meet. I can feel the muscles in his back ripple as he lets go of Liam and recoils in surprise. I roll off his shoulders and land right on top of Liam's abdomen.
I sprawl across his body and prop myself up, making it impossible for Diavolo to reach Liam unless he goes through me.
"Diavolo!" I can see the two Russian men behind the demon's shoulders, crouched by the window of the car. Powerful weapons are strapped to their backs as they shout at him, trying to discourage him from going against Valentin's orders. But the way he cranes his neck, eyeing me down behind his concealing outfit, I know he doesn't give a shit about orders. He's coming for blood.
I take my eyes off him for a split second, just long enough to glance down at Liam's phone. It's starting to ring again. The only comforting thing I can take from that is the fact that the family knows something's wrong. They have too.
When I look up, Diavolo is inches from my face. His thin, face-concealing material brushes against my cheek, like a whisper in the wind. I search for any identifying features, anything that could reveal his identity. But that's when I realize I'm searching for something that isn't there. A person. And my body temperature drops at my epiphany.
"I know you can hear me." I will myself to keep my voice from shaking. "And even if you couldn't, I'm sure you can read lips. So, read mine. Fuck you and your mother."
I don't have to see his face to know his expression has twisted in rage.
But before he can respond, I throw a handful of glass in his face.
Diavolo reels back in surprise. He doesn't curse, he doesn't speak. The noise he makes is the most human sound I've heard from him all night. A mixture between a moan of pain and a groan of annoyance. He knocks his hands against the side of his face but doesn't stop long enough to shed himself of all the glass. As quickly as he recoiled, he lunges, palm out.
The hit he was going to deliver would've been a legendary one, that I can assure you.
But Diavolo whiffs, his gloved hand passing just millimeters from my face. His palm slaps against the side of seat as his chest is slammed against the roof of the car. His breathing is heavy as he snarls, the sound resembling a growl rumbles the base of his throat as the Russian men grab hold of his ankles, pulling him out the vehicle.
Diavolo doesn't want to go, he makes that clear, but the Russian men saw the situation escalating and they intervened at the right time. Diavolo digs his fingers against the roof of the car, trying to claw his way back inside, but Valentin's men won't have it. They continue to pull, despite the sound of Diavolo's irritation as he claws and scratches at the hood of the car, trying to grab hold of something, anything.
The assassin grabs the edges of the window frame and clutches tight. He uses as much of his upper body strength as he can to pull himself back into the SUV. For just a second his strength overcomes theirs, but the battle he's fighting is a losing one – and he realizes that.
He succumbs and lets go, landing hard on the asphalt outside.
He twists himself out of the hold the two men have on him and I feel our eyes lock. He's gearing up for a second attack, while the two Russian men behind him catch their breath – but before he can pull himself through the nearest opening, his ankles are shackled together, and his hands are cuffed in metal chains.
Whether that's for my safety or theirs, I'll never know. Something tells me that if Diavolo really wanted to, he could set himself free.
But for now, he concedes. The tension in his shoulders resign for the moment as the two men hook an arm under either of his shoulders, preparing to lift him to his feet. They're grumbling their complaints; some in Russian, some in rough English. His gaze, however, never leaves mine, that I know thanks to the goosebumps that rise over my arms.
They leave.
And the sound of the chains that confine Diavolo echo long into the night.
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
I thought it was all a dream. That I would wake up in our bedroom, in our bed, with Liam's hands on my shoulders, gently shaking me from my nightmare. But when I wake up with a gasp, the only hands on me are Veleno's, and the bed I sit up on isn't mine. It belongs to the hospital.
Only one thought comes to mind.
"Is Liam okay?"
The look in Veleno's eye is troubling, causing fear to run straight through me. His eye, which is normally as bright as the ocean on a painstakingly beautiful day resembles the body of water right before a wicked storm. Dark and uninviting as danger looms in the distance.
"Liam's fine."
His voice sounds different. It lacks something, something I can't quite put my finger on. I know the look in his eye, I know how to define it, but the word isn't something I would've ever associated with Veleno. It's something I didn't think someone as confident as him knew how to feel. At least not anymore.
His hands are cold against my biceps as he squeezes. I grab his wrist, peeling his palm off my skin. I hold his hand just long enough to feel the tremors. He's shaking. He's scared.
The look in his eye resembles fear.
He knows I've noticed, and all I can do is watch him detach himself from me – both physically and figuratively. His hands fall to his side as he steps back, and the always self-assured assassin stutters as he awkwardly motions toward the closed door. Only one word makes it past his lips. "Air," and before I can ask him anything, he's gone.
I stare after him for the longest moment, trying to wrap my mind around not only his behavior, but tonight. My lips part, but the words that I want to breathe out – "What the fuck," – don't come. They hang off the tip of my tongue until a figure in the corner distracts me.
It's Carmen. She sits in the corner of the nicest hospital room I've ever been in. She's slouched in a chair, legs tucked against her chest as she clings to a blanket. Her hair cascades down her face. She quietly sniffles and glances up, using a finger to wipe beneath her eye.
My chest tightens, and suddenly I'm having doubts about the answer Veleno gave me regarding Liam.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and lean forward. "Is Liam okay?"
"Liam's fine," She answers quickly, hearing my concern. "This isn't about Liam. This is just—all of this is just—" Her head hits the wall as she leans back and whispers, "—crazy."
I turn back towards the door. "But Veleno—"
"He was the first one there. He got there about two minutes before the others did." Carmen rolls her head to the side and looks at me. She looks and sounds so small, so scared. "He admitted to me that when he saw you two, when he saw Liam, he thought that—he said that—" She takes in a breath, and focuses is as she pushes it out, trying to draw her voice even. "He admitted to me that the last time he felt fear that intense was the night he lost his eye."
Carmen stands and drapes the blanket over her shoulders like a cape. She doesn't seem to mind that it drags along the ground as she walks over to me. "Are you okay, though?"
My head aches and my ankle hurts. I'll wake up tomorrow with a couple new bruises, but as I rotate my arms and kick out my legs, nothing seems broken. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."
She comes to stand directly in front of me. "Are you absolutely, one-hundred percent, sure?"
I nod slowly. "Yes."
"Then fuck you for ruining my contour."
I shove a hand into Carmen shoulder, making us both laugh. She tosses her hair over her shoulder as I pull myself to my feet and throw my arms around her in a tight embrace. Her comfort is nice. And it's different. It's different than Liam's, but it's equally as strong and as meaningful. It's nice having a friend.
She squeezes me tight as we sway. "I'm glad you didn't die. I was just starting to like you."
The door swings open a second later as Carmen and I separate. She casts a tired smile at Steven and Austin as they try to enter at the same time. Their shoulders bump each other's, ricocheting them both against the narrow doorframe. Austin glares at Steven and presses his palm against the small of the young man's back, shoving him into the room before following.
Steven doesn't seem to notice, at least he doesn't say anything. He smiles at me. "You're awake."
Austin comes to stand by Steven's side as he slides his hand inside the pocket of his sweatpants. He gives me a good once-over. "How do you feel?"
I shrug. "Fine."
"Do you know what happened?" Carmen returns to her comfortable looking position in the large chair.
I shrug as all eyes fall on me. "Liam was teasing me, leaning in to kiss me. I saw the reflection of a bright light in his eye and he—" I glance down. "That's all I remember."
"I'll tell you what happened." Austin's voice is demanding as the attention is drawn from me, to him. His eyes, however, remain on me as he explains. "The Russian's somehow found out about your route tonight. Timed it perfectly; in a place where it would take some time for the backup we positioned to get to you. Drove a van right into your side."
"Not directly in your side," Steven corrects. He looks Austin in the eye, almost like he's afraid to look in mine. "They hit the SUV on your side, yes, but the blunt force hit the front passenger side more." Steven looks at me. "If you were going any faster, seatbelt or not, you wouldn't be here right now."
The way Austin looks at me, I know Steven is telling the truth.
"How many survivors?" I lean against edge of the bed and brace for the answer that I know is coming.
"Two," Steven and Austin answer simultaneously.
"Causalities?" I breathe out.
"Twenty t—"
"Over a thousand when I'm done with the Russian's messiah."
Liam enters the room slowly, as if every miniscule movement pains him. His accent is so thick I can hardly understand him, hinting at the anger burning in his chest. He has a small bandage over his eyebrow, but the most noticeable change is his hair. It's gone. All of it – chopped low. All the hair I loved running my hand through.
Oh, it's on, motherfuckers.
"I like the haircut." Steven comments. "Makes you look more daddy-ish."
Austin gives him a blatant, annoyed look.
Steven is oblivious to it.
Carmen's giggling from the corner is almost soothing. "I'm glad you're okay, Liam. But, yes, I agree with Steven." She pulls the blanket up to her lips, but mumbles loud enough for the room to hear. "I've always had a thing for guys with short hair."
"Well I don't know about you," I shoot Carmen a sly smile. "But I like having something to pull on."
She smiles wide.
Steven blinks, glancing between Carmen and I. "What is going on here?"
"You started it." Austin blames, "With your horny ass comment and everything."
"I'm not horny!" The stare-down between Austin and Steven lasts for only second, breaking when Steven adjusts his glasses and briefly glances at Austin's crotch.
Liam and I briefly make eye contact over the arguing pair. He looks tired and worn, as I'm sure I do. He's discarded his suit jacket somewhere, but his pastel pink shirt is torn and dotted with blood. My dress isn't in any better shape, and according to Carmen my makeup is ruined. I don't think I have the nerve to look in a mirror.
I want to mouth something to Liam as Austin and Steven bicker, but his eyes leave mine and I don't have the strength to shout over Steven and Austin's petty argument. I'm glad though, thankful even as he moves past them and uses the edge of the bed as a seat. I bump his shoulder and smile. He does the same as he looks at me.
Veleno returns, but he doesn't come back alone. Zara trails him in the room, while he clutches a sleeping Rosalie. Her head rests on his shoulder, dangerously close to the crook of his neck. He carries her with ease, like he's cradling a newborn baby and not an undersized nine-year-old girl.
Carmen moves and stands off to the side, allowing Veleno to take her seat instead.
At the commotion, Austin and Steven's bickering has momentarily simmered. Zara clutches the oversized sweatshirt that clings to her shoulder, nervously twisting the fabric. She glances toward her son, then at me. "What the hell happened?"
"We need to talk about that," Austin mumbles, angling his body towards his boss.
He doesn't just turn towards Liam, but the entire room does. Carmen and Veleno, Austin and Steven, Zara and I. All eyes on him; the way it has been since he turned eighteen.
Liam crosses his arms over his chest and heaves out a sigh. "The Russian's managed to find out the details of the route you planned in secret." His gaze lands on Steven. "So, I need you to tell me, Steven. Where did we go wrong?"
I appreciate his usage of we and not he, which would've made Steven feel as though this entire event was his fault.
Steven fidgets with his glasses, nervous. "I don't know. I really don't. Only a handful of people in that house knew the route."
"We barely told anybody, Liam." Austin comes to Steven's defense by stepping forward. "I don't understand how the Russian's, how Valentin, could've figured it out."
"Unless there's a mole." Steven's suggestion sends the whole room spiraling into an uncomfortable silence.
I can feel Liam's arm tense against mine.
Austin frowns. "You think someone in the house is working for Valentin?"
"That would make the most sense," Steven replies, defending his assumption. "Would it not?"
"No." Austin clenches his jaw, a sudden realization washing over him. "No, it wouldn't, Steven. Because the handful of people we told are in this room."
The tension in the room turns electric at Austin's not-so-subtle accusation.
And I notice the eyes of Liam's soon-to-be right-hand man drift right over to the man sitting in the corner, holding Rosalie.
Veleno narrows his eye at Austin. "What? You think it's me?"
"I'd respond, but I know you're not going to like my answer."
Veleno rises to his feet as a grin pulls at his lips. "Look at me like that again, boy, and I'll beat your ass with a nine-year-old in my arms."
"Cut it out." It isn't necessary for Liam to raise his voice to diffuse the situation.
Austin backs down, but it takes Veleno a minute longer to return to his seat. Rosalie stirs in her sleep as Carmen steps over, willfully taking the little girl from Veleno's arms. He looks annoyed, pissed even at Austin's accusation, and he willingly lets the little girl go. His jaw, however, continues to work.
"It's almost one o'clock in the morning," Liam continues, voice even. "We're all tired. You're saying shit you don't mean." He moves away from the bed gingerly. "I trust everybody in this room. Nobody in this room is working for Valentin," His eye cuts to Austin, shooting him a disapproving look. "Understood?"
Austin nods.
Veleno grips the armrest with one hand, while he props his elbow up on the other. He leans his head against his fists and clears his throat. "Accusing someone in the house of working for the enemy is huge, Liam. Once you say that shit out loud, you can't come back from it."
"I know, V." Liam exhales, exhausted. "Fuck, I know, but Dominic and I dealt with one before and we can do it again."
It's almost like at the mention of Dom's name brings the fact that he isn't here, nor has anyone seen him, to the forefront of our minds.
I look at Veleno, who just shrugs. "I wasn't able to—"
The door flies open and bangs against the wall. Dominic rushes in and shuts it, breathing heavily. He pulls the hoodie off his head, pauses, and drags it back up – but not long enough for me to notice the hickeys that decorate his neck. The way Veleno's eye narrows confirms that he notices too.
Liam quirks an eyebrow, greeting him before he can greet us. "Ears burning, Mr. Santiago?"
"Sorry I'm late—I just—I..." Dom clears his throat, "—was busy. Really busy."
Nobody needs to question why he was busy or what was keeping him busy. I think we can all determine on our own that it was drugs and meaningless sex.
"I was worried about you." Carmen smiles softly at Dom. "You left this in my room, and when I went to give it back to you, you were gone." She shifts Rosie against her, just long enough to reach into her pocket. Dominic nears as she drops his wedding ring, which he transformed into a necklace, into his palm.
"Thanks." Is all he has to say as he pockets it.
"Sex and drugs won't do it, man." The words Veleno meant to whisper are loud enough for everyone to hear. They stop Dominic in his tracks, his back towards the assassin as he began to retreat near the door. He turns around, slowly. "Sex and drugs won't save you, Dom." Veleno repeats it again, this time looking up as he says it.
Dominic's expression darkens underneath his hood. He doesn't appreciate that at all. "You don't know how I feel."
"Really? You want to look me in my blind eye and say that again?"
Dominic looks down.
"When you're done playing games, come talk to me," Veleno finishes.
"Don't hold your breath."
Liam looks between the two men, gears churning. He looks upset, and after everything that's happened tonight, it's justified. But I don't think the look on his face at this exact moment in time is due to all the men we lost tonight – rather, to Dominic. His friend, arguably a brother who he can only watch lose himself – drifting further and further away from the man we once knew. And all we can do is blame the pain.
Luciano clears his throat, preparing to continue. "As I was saying. Dominic and I dealt with a mole before. We came out on top that time, and we can do it again." He can only look at Dom for so long before he must turn away.
"That was tough the first time." Dominic admits, "I can't imagine doing it again."
"I know." Liam snaps, "But there's no other explanation. Valentin has to have somebody on the inside."
"So, what now?" Austin glances around curiously. "We hold a meeting?"
"Yes and no," Liam responds. "I can't come forward with an accusation this big without being absolutely sure. A meeting does need to be held, tonight, to talk about what happened – and to change a lot of things."
"Like what?" Steven wonders.
"Among many things," Liam looks down at me. "Faith and I no longer share a transport. If Valentin wants to take us out, he's going to have to work twice as hard."
"There's no mole."
"Veleno," Liam looks over Austin's shoulders. "There has to be."
The assassin looks up from his seat. "You're forgetting something. We're all forgetting something."
"I had a long night, please," Liam makes a motion with his hand, "remind me."
Veleno rises to his feet. "The arch angel."
Liam understands before I do. His eyebrows touch, the muscle in his jaw ticks, and his eyes darken. He shoots forward quickly, the gingerly, careful walk gone. "Gabriel," He grinds out.
"No." I shake my head. "No."
I know Liam means business when he points toward the door, stares Veleno down, and commands, "Bring Gabriel to me."
He obeys, at least he starts to until I put my foot down. "Veleno, don't you dare." He pauses near the door as his commands conflict, creating confusion in that fucked up head of his. I turn to Liam. "Gabriel is a friend."
"Faith, he was the only stranger in that house when—"
"He's a stranger to you! Not me."
Liam glares at me as he orders Veleno once again. "Go. Get him."
"Veleno," I warn.
Veleno looks between the two of us, uncertain. The part of him that thrives off blood and chaos is already halfway out the door. But the side of him that I saw earlier, the side of him that I know is in there somewhere is what's keeping him in place, fighting between Liam's command and my own.
"Veleno, please."
"I'm not going to hurt him." Liam grabs my forearm, forcing me to look at him. "I just want answers."
I rip my arm from his grasp. "Do you think I'm stupid?" I don't pause long enough to let him answer, "I've been around long enough, Elijah, I know how the Italian mafia gets answers."
"Then when you see your friend, tell him to comply and I'll go easy."
I shake my head and look back at Veleno. "Veleno, V, please do not—"
"I'm not asking you again, Veleno. Go. Get. Him."
I know I've lost when Veleno looks at me. The vulnerable side of him is buried deep, and the humanity that I know he's capable of showing is nowhere to be found. His eyes aren't light and carefree, or dark and uninviting. They're just cold. Distant.
And I know the darkest side of his personality has won the battle.
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
It's three a.m., and our night – our early morning, however you want to look at it – is just getting started. The emergency meeting Liam called to order is just about to start, but unlike usual, we're the first ones here, waiting on the others to arrive.
Liam sits across the large and vast conference table, the hood of the sweatshirt Zara grabbed for him tugged around his face. He's trying to hide it all, not from me, but from those that he's trying to convince that he has this situation with Valentin under control. His face is cut up. His eyebrow has a small piece of white tape across it. His hair is gone because they needed to stitch up the deepest cuts.
At first, I thought Liam got off pretty lightly for not having a seatbelt on, but apparently, I didn't know everything. Liam's doctor, who appeared pretty irritated that he had gotten up and left his room without proper dismissal to come see me, returned with the x-ray results.
Liam's left wrist was broken.
Liam didn't believe it until the doctor put his hand on a table and flexed it.
My boyfriend, whom I've learned has a high pain tolerance, nearly crumbled right there on the hospital room floor.
I felt guilt. I feel guilty. Maybe that's why we've been sitting in this large room together for the last ten minutes and I haven't said a word. I just watch him occasionally tug on the edge of his hood and tap the black cast that stabilizes his wrist.
I clear my throat. "I wanted to apologize."
Liam taps his cast one last time before lifting his eyes to mine. I can see his frown form underneath the hood as he waits for me to elaborate. His lips hardly move as he croaks out, "What for?"
"I was mad at you, angry that you would make the decision to question my friend." I clutch the sleeve of my hoodie – and by my hoodie, I mean an old one that Liam doesn't use anymore. It's grey. The California letters are worn and faded. The sleeves are stretched, and the hem is beginning to undo, but that just makes it even more comfortable. I tug at the fabric, unable to look back in Liam's direction as I admit to what's been on my mind since we left the hospital an hour ago.
I was pissed at Liam for ordering Gabriel to be brought to him. And I was pissed at Veleno, someone who I considered a friend, for following his orders. But when I got inside my vehicle and collapsed against the seat, I did the first thing I thought to do.
I called my parents.
It didn't hit me until the third ring.
And with my innocent parents at the forefront of my mind, I sit up a little straighter. "Do it," I tell him. "Friend or not. Question Gabriel. And if he's innocent, good. And if he's not, then I'm one step closer to avenging the death of my parents."
Liam smiles slightly. "I know he's a friend of yours and I don't want you to think I'm doing this for some sick, jealous reason. He was the only other one—"
"I know," I let out a breath and look down to stare at my hands. They stand out, pale against the dark wood. I curl them both in a fist. "I know. Whether I like it or not, this has to be done."
"For your sake, I hope it isn't him."
I crack a smile, but my lips curl back into their frown seconds later. "That's probably one of the nicest things you've said to me in a while."
Liam tugs the hoodie around his neck and lifts his head, allowing the lights to shine down on his bruised face. He sends me a childish grin. One where he pulls his lips apart, showcasing both rows of teeth while his eyes squeeze shut. My heart flutters as I laugh.
"I'm working on it," He says after his face returns to normal. There's a pause before Liam speaks again. "Hey—" I look up, trying to even out my expression after another thought crosses my mind. He presses the palm of his good hand against the table. "—if you don't want to be in the room once Veleno gets back—"
"No." I answer quickly. "No, I want to be there."
"But if Gabriel sees you—"
"I'll stand in the corner. He won't see me."
"Faith..."
My eyes fall from his, to his palm that's pressing against the wood and as quickly as my heart fluttered at his smile, it falls at the tape that ties his middle and ring finger together. I feel an overwhelming sense of emotion and I bow my head as tears rush to the corner of my eyes.
When I look back up, my eyes are glazed over with tears and Liam looks like he has absolutely no idea what's happening.
"What the hell were you thinking?" I blink. He blinks. We both blink. I elaborate, "My seatbelt. What the hell were you thinking?"
"Faith—"
I rise to my feet and point an accusing finger in his direction. "Shut up. Just, shut up." Tears roll down my cheeks and I don't waste the time to try and fight against them. I'm tired. I'm exhausted. "Do you know how many people need you? Rosalie. Zara. The hundreds of soldiers that you have at your command. They need you."
"I need you," Liam's voice is strained and quiet as he looks up at me from across the long table.
I don't even know what to say to that, so instead of responding I drop back down to the seat and shudder as more tears fall. "You could've died."
"I didn't."
"You could have, Liam."
I see Liam stand through my worsening vision as tears flood my eyes. They roll down my cheeks, uncontested as I wrap my arms around myself. He moves around the table, approaching slowly. He doesn't move slowly out of hesitation, but pain. The adrenaline that was coursing through him earlier has worn off. He can feel everything. Every pulled muscle, bruised bone, and scratch. His limp is more noticeable, and his face twists in agony every time he steps down on his right foot.
I don't even see him reach my side as I use the back of my hand to wipe furiously at my eyes. I laugh through the tears as Liam twists my seat towards him. He lowers himself to his knees and rests his forearms on the armrests of my chair.
"Tu sei l'unica donna a cui mi inchineró mai."
His good hand finds mine and he takes the moment to press our palms together, before sliding his fingers between mine. He looks up at me and I swear, I swear on everything I've never seen him look so tired. Lines form underneath his eyes, thanks to the sleep he's currently missing. He looks horrible, but all in the same breath I can say that he's never looked better.
"You asked me what the hell I was thinking..." He murmurs, "And I wasn't. I didn't think. I didn't have time to. I just did. I did what mattered."
"But you matter."
I slide my hand between the fabric of Liam's hood and his cheek. He leans his face against the warmth of my head, his eyelids fluttering closed. I smile as he hums, sending vibrations from my palm all the way up my arm.
"Too many people need you," I repeat as I gently run the tip of my fingers over the bruise forming near Liam's eye.
"No, they don't." He leans forward, forcing my legs apart. His chest hits the edge of the chair as he lays his head down on my lap. I can no longer see his face. I can't determine his expression. I can barely hear his voice, but I'm certain of what I hear next. "They need a king. It doesn't have to be me."
I hate it when he talks like this, but I know exactly where he's taking this. "Liam—"
"Is it true?" He pulls his face away from my lap, angling it in such a way that his hood slides off. I tug at it, gently easing it back over his head. He grimaces as my fingers scrape the part that still hurts. "You saw Diavolo?"
"I did," is all I can whisper.
"You mean to tell me, you saw him and lived to tell about it?"
"You're being dramatic." I smile, "But yes, yes I did. I even threw glass in his eyes."
Liam's own widen.
"What can I say, I'm a badass." I wipe my nailbeds against his hoodie with a slight smile.
He laughs, and in that moment everything is okay. Absolutely everything.
"I'm proud of you." His smile doesn't fade, and if I didn't know the pain he was in, I would never suspect that he nearly lost his life tonight. I never knew four words could make me so happy. Almost like I finally did something right for the first time in a very long time, and it made me happy. It made me smile.
My eyes fall to his lips as he leans forward, his words nothing but a mumble. "I love you."
"If I didn't know then, I know now."
I draw his face to mine all within the same breath. I feel him fight a smile as soon as our lips meet. We fall back against the chair as he struggles to find a comfortable position. His hand finds a place on the side of my face and I groan against him, melting solely due to his gentle touch. He rises to his feet, our lips never separating as he tilts my jaw up and intensifies the kiss.
I'm just about to pull back for air when somebody forcefully clears their throat.
Liam breaks the kiss first. His lips brush mine as he speaks against them. "Wait. I'm busy." He doesn't give the person the time of day as he presses three more kisses to my lips. All short, but passionate none-the-less.
He draws back for good this time, and I want nothing more than to hold him. To keep him right here, in my arms, in my lap, to stay.
Liam turns around and nearly falters at the sight.
Vincenzo is standing behind him.
"Holy shit," I say, and Liam is halfway through repeating me when Vince throws his arms around his shoulders and yanks Liam into a tight embrace.
"If I lose another one of my boys, I swear on everything that's holy I'll fucking murder some fucking bitches with this—" Vince pulls away, clearly unsteady on his feet as he motions to his pitiful looking cane. "—stick, thing. Whoa—" He tumbles backwards and falls into the waiting arms of his perfectly positioned wheelchair.
Liam smiles, as do I. One of my boys. He doesn't mention it, even though I know he's dying to. "You walking around with a cane now?" Liam plucks the curved piece of wood from Vince's grip and rotates it.
Vincenzo shrugs. "I wouldn't exactly call it walking, more like trudging and dragging my other leg and its cast behind me. I prefer the crutches though. They're easier."
Liam hands Vince the cane, which he takes with disgust. "It's good seeing you out of bed, but you shouldn't rush the healing process."
The older man rolls his eyes. He looks better, like there's still a little fight left in him. His hair may only be half an inch longer, but it makes a difference. Almost like it's a little, insignificant sign that he's slowly returning to the insane, and often unpredictable man we once knew.
The corner of Vince's lip curls upward in a smirk. He glances over as men begin to walk in, talking quietly amongst themselves. Resting his hands on the wheels of his chair, he propels himself backwards, and out the way of the crowd as they enter to find a seat. He winks playfully at Liam as his voice is drowned out by the others.
"I've never been one to follow rules, boy."
I blindly reach for Liam's hand as the crowd rolls in. The people deemed important enough to lead Liam's committee find their seats at the table quickly. The meeting hasn't even started, yet it feels different. Instead of their normal formal wear, many are in sweatpants, lounge shorts, and a top they probably found on their bedroom floor. Out of everyone, Vincenzo looks the most rested.
The room is silent as they all stand around the table, waiting for the command to be seated. And for the first time, Liam and I aren't standing at the front of the table to give it. They just watch us, with tired eyes and regretful stares as we move to the front.
Liam moves slowly, so slowly in fact that I feel like I'm dragging him along. They notice. Everyone notices, but they don't say a thing. Every step causes Liam more pain and I can tell he's favoring his right foot. It takes longer than usual for him to cross the room, but we do it.
Austin walks through the door, trailed by Dominic. I can't help but catch how Dominic glances toward the seat he once claimed, right at his friend and ex-bosses' side. He hesitates, his body moving a fraction of an inch in the direction of the seat before catching himself and moving back towards the wall. His eyes are on Austin until the young man takes his seat, then his eyes drop to the floor.
Liam is the only one who remains standing. "As you are probably aware, you should know that our transport was hit tonight." Nobody looks surprised. Nobody gasps or falls out their seat. They just lean forward, shifting uncomfortably, hanging off Liam's every word. "Valentin is to blame, but the problem I'm having is figuring out how he did it. Only a handful of people knew our route."
"But before I accuse—" Liam huffs, pressing both of his palms against the table. He bows his head, hiding his face from those staring. "—we have a suspect," He changes direction, not wanting to bring up the possibility of a mole right now. He lifts his head an inch, his eyes meeting with a few who stare back. "I'll keep you all informed about what we learn, if we learn anything."
Liam looks at me, and I smile, closed lip, back at him.
"I've already informed Austin on my decision, but I wanted to let you all in on it as well. For security purposes only, Faith and I will require separate transports." Austin nods as Liam reiterates what he told him earlier to the group of men listening. "If Valentin wants to kill us, I'm going to make sure he works his pale ass off for it."
"But what I don't want, is this attack to scare you, because that's exactly what Valentin wants." Liam leans against the table even more, allowing it to support his weight and give his injured ankle a break. "They're going to come. They're going to attack. That is not something I can stop. I can tighten security and I can pray that nobody gets hurt, but I can't stop Valentin from inflicting pain. All I can do is what I know to do. I prepare. We prepare. And when I know we're ready, we make our move. I'm not Valentin. I don't need to make a hundred moves to win a war. I only need one."
Nobody says a word.
Liam stands up and pulls the hood away from his face and the room erupts. Men shoot up from their seats, anger boiling in the pit of their stomach at the face of their leader. At the cuts that line his face. At the tape that conceals the cut on his eyebrow. At the bruise that's turning a gruesome shade of black and blue on the side of his face. And at the hair that they know was cut low due to the damage inflicted on by Valentin and that untamed animal of his.
My eardrums threaten to rupture as their angry shouts grow.
Some are spewing threats to the Russians in their native tongue, while others demand Liam let them go – let them go get Valentin themselves. Some promise to kill Valentin with their bare hands, while others slam their personal weapon down on the table, causing it to shake violently. Others just hit the table in frustration as curses fly out their mouth.
Everyone shows their anger in a different way, but the respect they have for the man who sits at the head of the table is unwavering.
Liam lifts his hand, the one weighed down with the cast, and the room stills.
His voice is gentle and quiet, soothing, but followed up with a level of confidence and calmness that has always made Liam so attractive.
"On my word, this war will end in Russia." He promises. "If I have to tear that country apart to bring Valentin down, then I'll do it."
Liam extends his left hand to me. I slip my hand in his as he lifts me to my feet and tugs me against his side. I feel his chin come to a rest atop my head as I rest my cheek against his side.
"And I will be damned if I let him stop the divinity."
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
I don't know what to think at the sight of Gabriel on the concrete floor of our basement. He's on all fours, palms digging into the uncomfortable ground as a litany of soldiers surround him. The blindfold Veleno applied sometime between his abduction is still on. He can't see me, and he can't see as I fall back, drifting into the shadows to try and stomach what I know is coming next.
The room is dark, dimly lit by the light that travels underneath the door and down the narrow staircase that leads back upstairs. One of the soldiers flips on a flashlight and angles it directly in Gabriel's face as the group of large men surround him in a lopsided circle.
They part just enough to allow Liam through.
He sends Veleno a signal, and I watch the assassin step forward and rip the blindfold off Gabriel's face.
My heart sinks and I regret coming down here.
Confusion is written all over his youthful face as he leans up on his knees, using a hand to shield him from the blinding light. There's no way he can see me over the tall men that stand around him and the light that shines in his eyes. He squints, unsure as he spins on his knees.
"I-I don't understand," He croaks out.
"Gabriel." He turns to Liam at the sound of his name, but recognition doesn't cross his face. He doesn't recognize Liam's voice. "Who is Valentin?"
"I—I think it's a day in February."
I can't see the look Liam gives a soldier, but it must not be a pleasant one. The man kicks out his leg, landing a vicious kick to Gabriel ribs. I cringe as pain contorts Gabe's face. He grabs at his stomach and nearly faceplants into the concrete floor. A groan of agony echoes across the basement.
"Do you know of Valentin Rostov?" Liam repeats.
Gabriel leans back. The previous kick to his chest has him sounding like he's just run a mile and a half. He sounds winded. "I swear, I have no idea who—" A soldier sends an unprovoked punch to Gabe's jaw and my chest burns. Oh, it burns, but I can't say anything as Gabriel's body is twisted the opposite way. His hands catch him, keeping his face off the ground.
Veleno steps inside the circle and rounds Gabe. He grabs the collar of Gabriel's shirt and pulls him back, onto his knees. Liam steps forward and squats, coming to eye level with our only suspect.
Gabe's eyes widen as he takes in Liam's face. "The car I was riding in tonight was hit. Your friend, Faith? She was in it too."
And in a voice so quiet I nearly miss it as he asks, "Is she okay?"
"Why do you care?" Liam tilts his head. "You caused it."
A wave of innocence washes over Gabriel's face and I know in my heart that I need to end this. There's no way he did it. Absolutely no way. "Why would I hurt a friend?" He tugs at his arms, trying to pull himself out the hold Veleno has on him but he can't. He's too weak. "I swear, I didn't—I wouldn't—"
Tears begin to roll down his cheeks.
"You were the only other one in the house, Gabriel."
"I didn't," He tenses, trying to get his point across. "I really didn't. I just—I just gave her a flower. You have to believe me, you—"
Liam stands and backs away slowly. He shakes his head from left to right and angles his body toward he steps. "I don't believe you. I hope my friends can persuade you to tell the truth, though."
I watch Liam as he glances out the corner of his eye, pausing just long enough for Gabriel to admit to the fact that he did, indeed, cause our accident. But Gabe doesn't say a word, he just watches Liam. I try to study him in the moment, to see if he gives off any type of evil vibes and I don't see it. I can't see it. His shoulders are slumped and blood trickles out the corner of his lip. He sounds truthful. He sounds innocent.
I nearly make the grave mistake of stepping forward and calling out after Liam, but I don't.
I bite my lip and watch as the group of soldiers descend on Gabriel like vultures on roadkill. I watch someone throw the first punch, then the second. They grab the fabric of Gabriel's shirt to pull him closer to them, before delivering a brutal hit to the side of his face. He hits the floor, and like a yo-yo, they pull him back again, only to repeat the process of literally beating the information they want to hear, out of him.
There isn't an ounce of fight in his body as he's pulled around like a limp rag doll. He doesn't fight back, let alone yell at those who inflict so much pain on him. He looks so innocent. So pure, and my humanity wins out. I step forward before somebody can land another punch.
"Stop."
Gabriel lies on the ground, his cheek against the cool floor. Blood rolls down his nostrils and his lip is busted. His eyes are closed, but he isn't unconscious. Just tired and unable to find the strength to open them again.
"You—we made a mistake," I look over my shoulder, knowing Liam's returned. He moves beside me, this time with a glass of water in his hand. Ice floats at the top as he tilts it to his lips, his eyes never leaving our subject that lies on the floor. "He can't be—he isn't... he didn't do it, Liam."
Liam lifts his eyes over the rim of his glass and finds Veleno. "What do you think?"
A cry escapes Gabriel's lips as he stares up at me. "Faith—"
I back away in fear.
"I've looked in the eyes of a lot of killers, Liam." Veleno moves to stand in front of Gabriel, and the last conscious sound I hear from Gabe is a whispered, "why?" directed towards me. I don't have the time to answer. Veleno delivers an elbow to the side of Gabe's head, and the young man is unconscious long before he hits the ground. "And I've fought the best of the best, but this man?"
Veleno glances back at us over his shoulder.
"I don't know who or what you think he is, but Gabriel is no threat to us."
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
a/n: i busted my ass to get this chapter out before a month had past, yet...we're like 4 days short of a month and i've once again, failed.
shit is going down next chapter as well and by now, ya'll are probably used to this. there will be a calm chapter, but for now, just take the sweet fiam moments while we have them. you should know by now the potere isn't for the weak of heart. we've lost family members. we've lowered soldiers into the grave. but the heartbreak will be worth it in the end, and they'll miss out on THE JOURNEY.
we're almost at 22k on wattpad, so don't forget to follow me. and please, spare me a follow on ig & twitter (we're getting close to 1k!)
anyways. Diavolo said FUCK LUCIANO & CO LIVES AND I'M HERE FOR IT!!!!! SEE YA'LL ON OUR IG DISCUSSION POST