Their Dolcezza (Discontinued)

02 || Reckoning

Impatience consumes me like a smoldering flame, prickling my skin with restless energy as I occupy Lucien's dimly lit room. Hours pass like languid waves, each moment stretching into an eternity since my unsettling conversation with Sofia. I've lost track of time, yet Lucien remains absent, his prolonged absence amplifying my unease.

The air hangs heavy with anticipation, the room suffused with an eerie stillness that contrasts sharply with the dangerous, chaotic thoughts racing through my mind. Thoughts that may end up doing more harm than good if I listened. Shadows dance across the walls, cast by the muted flicker of the solitary lamp on Lucien's desk, magnifying the tension enveloping me.

I've occupied myself with wandering aimlessly around the room, my fingers idly tracing the edges of Lucien's belongings—the meticulously arranged stacks of papers, the leather-bound volumes haphazardly strewn across the desk, the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the jacket tossed carelessly on a nearby chair. But these distractions only serve to highlight the gnawing impatience clawing at my nerves. What was taking him so long? He should be back by now.

I find myself staring at the ornate clock perched atop Lucien's mantelpiece, its hands ticking away the seconds with maddening slowness. The rhythmic tick-tock echoes through the room, a dissonant symphony amplifying my impatience and now growing concern. It's a foolish thing, my concern, Lucien would soon be the don of the mafia but I can't help myself. I constantly fear for my brother's safety, waiting for the day Lucien and Carlos might not come back home. It drives me crazy that I can't do anything but sit back and wait.

The longer I remain ensconced within this room, the more the sense of foreboding gnaws at my resolve. My instincts scream at me, urging me to take action, to seek answers, yet the door remains closed, trapping me in a limbo of uncertainty.

My patience wears thin, fraying at the edges as I struggle to maintain composure in the face of this unnerving void. The room feels constricting, its walls closing in on me with each passing moment. But as I pace the room for what feels like the hundredth time, a glimmer of distant noise seeps through the door, stirring hope within my chest. The sound of approaching footsteps, and the subtle creak of the door hinge, heralds Lucien's return, offering a glimpse of clarity amid my swirling apprehension.

The soft, tinkling sound of a light giggle flits through the air, teasing my ears and disrupting the tense silence enveloping Lucien's room. The door swings open abruptly, a swift motion that allows me to get a full view of Lucien's sudden and chaotic entrance. My eyes widen in surprise, at a sight that leaves me momentarily speechless.

Lucien, disheveled and practically bursting into the room, is fully engaged in a passionate embrace with a girl whose identity eludes me in the whirlwind of the moment. Their kisses seem to command the very air in the room, as if time has halted to accommodate their urgent exchange. Their embrace is fervent, consumed by an intensity that sparks an array of emotions within me—shock, disbelief, pain, and an inexplicable sense of betrayal.

The sharp edges of bitterness cut through my thoughts as I grapple with the discrepancy between my own experiences and the seemingly lenient treatment of my brother, Lucien. My mind swirls with frustration, the questions jostling for attention like a restless crowd clamoring for answers.

How is it that I face censure and punishment for the mere hint of an intimate connection, while Lucien moves with unchecked freedom, bringing women into our home as if it were an accepted norm? The double standard, glaring in its unfairness, stokes the embers of indignation within me, intensifying my inner turmoil.

It's not simply the act itself that rankles me but the contrasting reactions and consequences attached to our actions. However, seeing Lucien like this right in front of my eyes cuts deeply into my soul. It reminds me of Damien, bringing back painful memories of those days that I'd wished I could hold him in my arms again. Waves of guilt crash over me like an unrelenting tide, intensifying the weight of the ring resting on my finger. It's the only piece of him I selfishly allow myself to have, even after the bloodshed that day.