Beautiful Agony

1 | Who is she?

-LIAM'S POV-

I attached my gold cuff links to my sleeves, my light brown hair falling in front of my eyes as I fiddled with them. I looked toward the mirror, a sigh escaping me. I took in my appearance, regretting not taking my mother up on her offer to apply some concealer before we leave, the last thing I need on my flight to Italy is my dad being on my arse over how tired I look.

He told me to take it easy, but it's been some time since he was the Don and things aren't that simple anymore. There's no taking it easy, at least not for me. Not in my world.

A knock on my door pulled me from my thoughts and my brown eyes managed to catch Troian's blue ones as he strolled into my room, sitting down on my grey sheets in a black suit similar to mine.

"Do you mind?" I asked, my face remaining expressionless just as it usually does.

He snickers, "You look awful dapper, bro. Who are you getting all dolled up for, our grandfather?" He says, examining my outfit, "I thought you didn't care for all this."

I gestured to my door, my annoyance at his presence in my room growing, " I don't love it, but I do care. The impressions we make on the Italians tomorrow matter. You've not told father yet, have you?" I enquired as we walked out from my room and down the marble steps side by side.

He shook his head, a smirk creeping up on his face, "That's all you, Liam." 

Our father has been looking for a way to shut down our Grandfather's operations since he first became the Don of our Mafia before I was even born, but he never managed it. He got close, dangerously so, but then she was taken. Whisked away without a goodbye. It ruined him, it ruined all of us, actually. But him and mother took the brunt of the hit, it left him and his armies without a defence and he missed his chance. 

I won't let an opportunity like that slip away again.

My men have located a shipment that had been travelling from England to Italy and we're certain that our grandfather is behind it. We're certain that the boat contains a bounty of English men, women and, supposedly, children, that will be tossed into the Italian Mafia's prostitution rings the second they arrive to the mainland.

Taking people from our country, our land. Friends of friends of friends. He knows this is a line he shouldn't have crossed, yet he did nevertheless.

Any notion of peace we had been working toward before was squashed the moment his ship hit our waters and I'll make damn sure he knows it.

——

I boarded the plane, taking a seat next to my father as the smell of whiskey burnt my nostrils. That shit is vile but it seems to be the only light in his life these days.

"We've eight hours until the conference, you can't get wasted dad. This is important." I say sternly, taking the glass from his hands and setting it down.

He finally peers up at me, "Take a drink from your grandfather the way you just did mine and see what happens." He mumbles.

"I have to tell you something." I say as I gesture for the air hostess Troian was checking out to leave so that we can have some privacy.

He takes a glance at me, "Are you coming out of the closet, son?" He says as a tight smile forms on his face. I ignore his statement, tired of his incessant foolery. He needs to take this to be as serious as it is.

"It's happening today, I'm going to force his hand and have him seize his prostitution rings to me, along with any and all minors he has working under him. If he denies, then I'll bring him a war he cannot fight." I say, clearly and slowly so that he'll understand, though he probably will anyway as his tolerance to the poison he drinks daily has grown enough so that he can function after all too many glasses.