Love Kills |t.h|

1| In My Bones

"I keep the mob and my family separate even though they are one and the same."

-Jon Hill

England, four years ago-

"Look I am telling you Lex, the only way to deal with this not so little problem is to cut it off at the head. The Hollands are going to be a problem. I can feel it, in my bones, Lex."

"Jon, the only thing that you are feeling in your bones is cancer, I got this."

"Aw, hell Lex, are you ever going to just call me father, or dad? Your mother and I raised a good kid."

"Yeah, well why should I call you dad when you left, huh? Where were you when she was on her death bed, where were you when I lowered her into the ground? You were off running this!"

"I was a busy man Lex; you can't hate me for loving my line of work."

"Yeah, too busy to show up at your own wife's funeral."

"Can we drop this and get back to the more pressing matter on our hands?"

"Fine, I am ready to take over this mob, I have a clear and level mind, and I know exactly what to expect with the Hollands. They will come and go just like the Hardgrave's did and the Gildrand's. Every time that there was a new competitor in the ring you always said 'Lex I think that they are going to be a problem' well I hate to break it Jon, but I think that I am doing a better job than you ever did and I haven't even had full control."

"Mr. Hill, sir, I am sorry to interrupt, but your guest has been escorted to your private study."

"This conversation isn't over yet Lex."

"Damn well it is. Goodnight father."

There wasn't much about my father that I could understand when I was younger. He was the complete opposite of fathers that I read in fairytales. Jon was this stone-cold boss who called himself a businessman. Most of my childhood orbited around the idea of me growing up and joining the mob that I was born into and one of our biggest competitors through marriage on my eighteenth birthday. To some commoner, this idea of being unwillingly forced into a marriage that would most likely involve abuse in more than one form would be crazy; but not in my world. Marriages like this happen every day.

My mother was a victim of one of these marriages. Her father deemed her no more than an asset to use to gain power and capital the day she was born; hence nobody was surprised the day that she decided to take her life, and honestly if not for cancer that thankfully took over Jon's body I would do the same. You see I'm not the trophy wife kind of person, I instead take over the world, or do what I do now, run one of the most successful mobs in England.

"Miss Hill, I was asked your opinion on the situation that has arisen."

"I don't have one yet, oh, and Cynthia, tell Frank Lurves that he better get the money to me by Friday, I have been far too kind to that conniving snake."

"Yes, Miss. Hill. Is there anything else?"

"Ask Damon to meet me here in thirty minutes. Thank you."

Cynthia nodded and walked out the door to my study, closing it quietly before strutting off to make a few phone calls. I leaned back in my chair and rested my feet on my desk, the black and red Louboutin's slipping off my heels slightly. Today was a typical day in Hill House, except for the whispers that had finally reached my ears.