Trouble and Tactics
"Wow," Jeff remarked, leaning against the doorframe. "You've got a tough guard there."
"Ben is my personal assistant, Jeff, not a bodyguard," Liam corrected, though his voice lacked its usual bite.
"So... baby..."
"I think it's time for you to leave," Liam interrupted, shifting slightly.
"I'm sorry, I was just playing," Jeff said, hands raised in mock surrender.
Liam tried to sit back down on the edge of the bed, but he winced sharply, his breath hitching. "Shit..."
"Hey, what is it?" Jeff was at his side in an instant, his playful demeanor vanishing. "Oh... Liam, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"Leave me alone," Liam snapped, though he stayed still. The dull ache from the night before had sharpened into a persistent throbbing this morning, making every movement a chore.
A firm knock at the door interrupted them. Jeff answered it, returning with a sleek new phone box and a small tube of ointment.
"Here," Jeff said, holding them out. "Since you 'lost' yours. And this tube is for the pain."
"I didn't ask you for a phone, and I certainly don't need your medicine."
"Just sit down, Liam."
Liam tried to lower himself again and nearly hissed in pain. Jeff caught him by the waist, steadying him. "Calm down... just take these and let me take care of you today."
"Take care of me? I have meetings, Jeff. One later today and another tonight."
"It's fine, you'll go. But first, let me—" Jeff paused, his nose wrinkling. "Something is burning."
"Shit! The breakfast!"
They both scrambled downstairs, but it was too late. The kitchen was filled with a light haze, and the contents of the pan were charred beyond recognition. Jeff quickly moved the pan off the heat, looking defeated.
Liam stared at the blackened mess, and then, slowly, a laugh bubbled up. It started as a chuckle and grew into a genuine, vibrant laugh. "Hahahahaha! Mr. Cook... you're terrible."
Jeff turned, a surprised smile breaking across his face. "Wow. This is actually a good thing."
"What?"
"That's the first time you've laughed since I met you. Maybe I should just start burning all your meals."
"Piss off, jerk," Liam said, though the smile remained on his lips.
Jeff ordered food, and they ate together in a rare moment of peace. Before Jeff left, he practically begged Liam to keep the phone so they could stay in touch. Reluctantly, Liam tucked it into his pocket.
The Don's Visit
"Ben!" Liam called out later that morning.
"Sir?" Ben appeared, looking slightly more disheveled than usual.
"Where did you spend the night? I woke up and you were gone."
"I... I spent the night at... well, my—"
"Hi, Ben."
The deep, authoritative voice of Arthur cut through the room. Both Liam and Ben froze.
"Da—Dad? What are you doing here?" Liam stammered.
"Oh, now you stammer," Arthur remarked, stepping into the room. "I don't know what I did to deserve such an incompe—" He caught sight of Ben's pale face and his tone shifted instantly, losing its edge. "Well. I'm here. Is this how you welcome your father?"
"Welcome, sir," Liam said, confused by the sudden change in atmosphere.
"I'm here to see Ben," Arthur stated, his eyes fixed on the assistant. "And to remind you, Liam: do not even think about missing today's meeting."
"Ben? Did Ben do something? Ben!"
"I... I didn't do anything, sir," Ben whispered.
"He certainly did something," Arthur said, a dangerous glit in his eyes. "But don't worry. I'll handle him myself."
"Ben, what did you do to my dad?!" Liam raised his voice, frustration mounting.
"Liam, shut up and mind your business," Arthur snapped. "I told you, I'll deal with him. Now, you have an hour before the meeting. Go get ready while I speak with Ben."
"But—"
"Liam! Go."
Liam retreated upstairs, glancing back at Ben with a mixture of confusion and pity. Once the room was clear, Arthur barked an order to the rest of the staff. "Everyone out!"
The foyer cleared in seconds. Arthur turned to Ben, his voice dropping to a low, calm rumble. "Ben. Why did you run away from me?" He stepped forward, and Ben instinctively shifted back until he hit the wall. "You cheated, you know."
"I... I don't know what you're talking about, sir."
"For Christ's sake, drop the 'sir.' You weren't calling me that last night." Arthur moved into Ben's space, pinning him against the wall with his hands braced on either side of Ben's head. "Gosh, I can't even look at you without having a reaction."
"Mr. Arthur, I'm sorry," Ben said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I was wrong, and I'm so sorry. Whatever punishment you have, I'll take it, just... take it easy on me."
"Shh, shh. Calm down, Ben." Arthur reached out, his hand cupping Ben's chin and tilting his face up. "Yes, I will punish you. But not here. And before that punishment, I want the kiss you stole from me back."
"What?"
"I want it back. And I need your permission."
"Sir!"
"Will you let me, or do you want the punishment to be more... dangerous?"
Ben swallowed hard. "Dangerous?"
"Yes."
"Fine," Ben whispered, closing his eyes. "Just take it back."
Arthur leaned in, his lips inches from Ben's, when the sound of Liam's footsteps echoed on the stairs. "Fuck," Arthur hissed, pulling back instantly.
He shoved a small slip of paper—his direct number—into Ben's hand. "You just wait until after the meeting," Arthur shouted, his voice suddenly loud and harsh for Liam's benefit. "I will deal with you then, you foolish assistant!"
Liam reached the bottom of the stairs, looking between them suspiciously, before leaving with his father and Ben for the council meeting.
The Mission
The atmosphere in the council chamber was frigid.
"Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence," Elder Mark sneered as they entered.
"Hello, Elder Mark," Liam said stiffly.
"You finally decided to show up after avoiding us for so long?"
"Elder Mark, can we move past this?" Arthur interjected. "My son has been recovering from an illness."
Liam looked at his father in shock. Usually, Arthur would have used the opportunity to humiliate him in front of the other families. Instead, he was shielding him.
"Whatever," Mark muttered.
The meeting progressed, and Liam waited for the hammer to fall—for Mark to announce the alliance was over because of the breakup. But the words never came. What is Tasha up to? Liam wondered, a sense of dread pooling in his stomach.
"As I was saying," Elder Peter announced, "this mission requires our youngsters. We'll be sending Liam, Daniel, Ned, and Colin."
The mission was high-stakes: a Russian Mafia boss named Mr. Joe had seized a drug warehouse. He had agreed to a $10 million exchange, but the council had no intention of paying. The plan was to ambush Mr. Joe with fake notes, kill him, and retake the facility.
"And why would I go with Liam?" Ned complained. "I can't work with someone who thinks I'm beneath him."
"Oh, come on, it'll be fun," Daniel said, offering Liam a supportive glance.
Daniel was striking—tall and dark with a pale, almost vampiric aura. He was one of the few who consistently defended Liam, though Liam, trapped in his own head, rarely acknowledged him.
"Is there ever a time you aren't defending that proud man?" Ned scoffed. "Even when he never looks your way?"
"Children, quiet," Arthur commanded.
Elder Mark was smirking, his eyes fixed on Liam in a way that made his skin crawl.
"We need unity for this," Arthur continued. "Mr. Joe is not someone to be underestimated. He is deadly."
"You're right, Arthur," Mark mocked. "But that doesn't mean we should be scared. Or have you forgotten who we are? Perhaps being a 'wifeless' man has made you soft and cowardly."
"The hell is wrong with you, Mark?" Arthur's eyes flashed with rage. "Just because I don't have a wife doesn't give you the right to call me a coward."
"Oh, so now you admit a wifeless man shouldn't even be here? Hahaha!"
"Shut up, Mark," Elder Peter barked. "If you don't want to be here, leave."
The meeting finally adjourned, the mission set for the following week. As Liam walked out, he felt the weight of the coming days. Between Jeff, Tasha, his father, and now a Russian hit, his life was no longer a storm—it was a hurricane.