𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇

XVIII

It has been just one day since Zephaniah Łabanowski was discharged from the hospital, yet it comes as no surprise that he is already in the mood for causing trouble.

He was told several times by his doctors to take a day off work and rest, but rest is not a word Zephaniah or his family seem to be familiar with.

He immediately settled into his usual routine: waking promptly at four am before heading to Xavi's gym. Today he stuck to lifting weights and managed to fit in twenty minutes of cardio at the end of his session, successfully getting his blood pumping, filling him with enough adrenaline to get through the day.

He then immediately drove to the headquarters of Yakov's former gang , for once not bothering to go home and swap his sweats and training top for a suit, his post-workout high seeming to take control. Working out is one of few things which allows him to have a clear mind.

"Carlos, Carlos, Carlos..." he begins. "How nice to see you, mio amico, how have you been?"

His associate simply shrugs his shoulders, causing Zephaniah's lips to curl into one of his infamous smirks.

"Relax, Bud," he says, in a seemingly friendly tone. "You always seem like you're about to piss your pants when i do so much as look at you," he mocks. "Anyway, just thought i'd pop in and ask you a few questions myself. See if we can get to the bottom of this. Sound good?" he finishes, without missing a beat.

"Yes, Sir," the man meekly responds.

"So, you and my Uncle? What is your relationship?"

"I— none, Sir."

"Well that's evidently a lie. He didn't just approach you on the street and ask you to drug me, did he?"

"No, Sir, he...he...i didn't have a choice."

"There is always a choice in every situation, Carlos, and i only care for the fact that you are involved with my Uncle. Not that you were supposedly forced into anything. Are we clear?" Zephaniah seethes, looking him up and down with disdain.

"Yes, Sir," Carlos murmurs, struggling to maintain eye contact with him.

"Molto bene," he says, with a sly grin. "And i suppose you can tell me why on earth my little sister was dragged into this mess?"

"N—no, Sir," Carlos timidly answers. "Henryk never once mentioned your sister."

Zephaniah's patience is withering as each second goes by. He wants nothing more than to kill Henryk with his own bare hands. Hell, he would bury the man alive if he could.

And now, as Carlos sits before him, it takes all of his will power to not simply shoot a bullet between the man's eyes.

"That's ridiculous. Of course he mentioned her. Do you have any idea how much that brat is worth to him?"

Zephaniah knows exactly why Rori is involved. She is an easy target. Any one of her brother's enemies should be so lucky to get their hands on her, for although Zephaniah would deny it, the brat is worth a whole lot to him too.

And although Rori is not the most self-aware, everyone around her knows just how much she cares for her eldest brother, including Zephaniah himself.

As a toddler, she would become protective over him and evidently this trait has stuck with her throughout the rest of her life.

It annoys Zephaniah, extremely. Even more so when he was still a teen.

No one can blame him though, as he is incapable of understanding his own feelings, let alone anyone else's, and he has always struggled to show affection.