DELUCA

SIXTEEN

Only call if something goes wrong." Francesco had warned Henri and Louis before he dismissed him that morning over the phone. The instructions were clear, meaning when Francesco's phone rang, something must've gone wrong.

No — something better had gone wrong. When Francesco answered he could hear Louis and Enzo arguing in the background.

"Somebody better be dead or dying," Francesco answered once he was out of earshot from the now likely passed-out Eleanor.

"It'll be the latter if you don't get here soon mon ami." Henri muttered into the phone, "This is a conversation to be held in person."

Francesco removed the phone from his face wanting to scream into the void of frustration he had felt. Not only mentally, but physically. He adjusted himself before grabbing his keys.

"Fine meet me at Horizons," Francesco demanded before disconnecting the call and making his way to the car.

During the short drive there, he had managed to real in his own emotions, knowing that while he was frustrated, he must act level-headed.

So as much as he could've, Francesco pushed Eleanor out of his mind before exiting the car and walking into the clinic.

Horizon had been an idea of Giselle's that had of course fallen through. It was until earlier that year Francesco decided to pick back up the project of opening a free clinic for locals.

The building was still in its early stages of construction with not so much as floors installed yet. The bareness of the clinic would make for a perfect meeting, especially with Francesco being two hours from home.

He slammed the doors, and the sound echoed through the vacant streets. There wasn't a soul outside from what Francesco could see as he walked in.

But he was soon greeted with the noise of an argument continuing. Upon seeing Francesco, Henri let out a shrill whistle causing Enzo and Louis to finally hush.

Unbeknownst to Francesco, Andreas was sitting in the room with them all silently staring down as if he had little interest in the conversation at hand.

"What do you want?"

"Francesco!" Enzo clapped and stood up, "Good that you're here. Tell the man of your f**k up."

Louis started swearing at Enzo in French, his words quick and indiscernible by everyone in the room aside from Henri.

"Louis, English or Italian, please," Francesco said with an exasperated sigh. It was already like he was called away to visit a daycare filled with children.

"When we went down to meet with Dom he said that he and his men no longer require our services anymore. Said he was shutting down the deal, wiping two-point-give off of the books." Henri explained.

"We don't know who did it, that is why Enzo is here." Louis pointed to Enzo who rolled his eyes.

"I am not here to play Nancy Drew, I am on vacation." Enzo insisted, "If you want to know who did it go to your new buddy."

"Again, Paolo would have nothing to gain from this, he is losing money in this deal too!" Louis argued.

"No problems for years, you make an ally and now your deals are being taken from you? You don't have to be Sherlock to figure this one out." Enzo said.

"Do we have names?" Francesco asked, ignoring their fighting in return to get a better understanding.

"We have nothing, not even the men knew who they are working with."

"Go figure," Enzo murmured. "We should strike him before he has time to do whatever the hell he has got planned."

Enzo had always been the quick-tempered man ready to act since Francesco had first met him as a child. The only reason why it wasn't his detriment was because he was also incredibly smart.

Enzo was a free agent in regards to the Oath, he worked for just about whoever he wanted to at the time, but at the end of the day, Francesco knew he was loyal to the family.

Enzo would rather shoot first and ask questions later, and given that Paolo was even on his radar, Francesco took his accusations seriously.

But he couldn't just act as brashly as Enzo would like to. Francesco didn't get to where he is in his life by acting first and thinking later.

He was currently so entwined with Paolo that even acting on this suspicion could cause a war that rivaled what the streets had to go through in the 60s.

It would be a blood bath that many wouldn't survive and no matter how strong Francesco considered himself, he wouldn't be able to handle having to bury multiple family members all over his selfish pride.

"No, we don't move until we know for sure. We don't even have names." Francesco said.

"So we wait until he strikes first?" Enzo asked.

"No, we need to be sure. So Sherlock, why don't you figure out just who these people are and bring them to me? You can make a team, and call yourself cute pet names. I don't give a damn, just find them and bring them to me, alive."

"Any bids on these heads?" Enzo asked one who always loved a good bounty.

"Whatever they want if they can bring me proof. Get the word out, no one acquires 2.5 million euros without someone noticing."

"And if we do determine Paolo is behind all of this?" This question came from the once-silent Andreas.

Francesco pondered the question for a moment before realizing he didn't have an answer.

"We will cross the bridge when we get to it," Francesco said before exiting.

When Francesco returned to the flat, the lights were off just as he left them, meaning it was likely Eleanor was still asleep.

Part of him was grateful, but the majority of him was disappointed. Francesco walked to the kitchen, quickly finding the alcohol reserves in the house.

While he wanted to stay sober for most of his honeymoon, work, and life had ruined that hope.

Francesco skipped the glass, opting to take the entire bottle of what was probably Scotch, and made his way over to the couch so as not to wake his sleeping beauty.

He collapsed on the sofa with a huff uncorking the bottle and taking a swig of the bitter liquid. He could be a pillar of strength tomorrow, but for tonight he would lament his mistakes.

If Enzo's suspicions were right, then Paolo already had everything he needed to act, and it would've been handed over to him by Francesco himself.

When their family was left in ruins after his father's arrest, Francesco had promised himself he would be able to bring pride to the Deluca name rather than the sign of failure it proved.

His father was once like Francesco himself, on top of the world making decisions that would destroy a common man and building up a part of society the government had forgotten about.

It was his father's greed that took all of that away from them. He had gotten sloppy, and the DEA was picking up every crumb he dropped until it was enough to take down not only his father but four of his uncles.

It had started mayhem in Francesco's life. He watched people who respected them shun away from them when his father chose to speak.

It had ruined them and Francesco built it all back up and then some. Perhaps working with Paolo was a sign of Francesco's greed. He just didn't want to sole burden of business on him anymore.

He should have just told Giuseppe that, he would've stepped up and helped. But Giuseppe was living the life of a civilian, something he didn't have the chance to do in his teens, so Francesco couldn't destroy that for him.

Now he was stuck in a pact with Paolo and if Paolo was the start of Francesco's downfall then it would be nothing but his fault.

This would've been an easier pill to swallow before he met Eleanor.

Another Swig.

She was rotting his mind. Francesco placed his face in his hands. Half of him knew it wasn't her fault he was falling for her, logic would've said it was inevitable.

He couldn't focus on being her knight and shining armor when he was running around like a villain.

The alcohol quickly caught up with his mind, easing some of the stress he felt directly behind the bridge of his nose. With that came the realization that he wasn't his father.

Francesco wouldn't cower, and he would falter. But he did have to remain smart about this, moving with a more watchful eye.

He was so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't realized the sound of Eleanor's slippers on the hardwood floors. She was dressed his just his shirt as she usually was when it was time to go to sleep.

He had long before noticed that Eleanor had brought her night clothes but she somehow always ended up in one of his button-downs or a t-shirt from his youth.

She hadn't noticed him yet, walking over to the door and peeking out the window. The moonlight was the only thing that illuminated the room, but her face in the window gave him a perfect view of the worry on her face.

Eleanor wrapped her arms around herself before turning away, the disappointment on her face only shown in a flash before she faced the darkness of the living room again.

It was that reaction that made Francesco want her to be aware of his presence. Francesco sat the bottle down, causing her silhouette to freeze.

"Francesco?"

"Sono qui topolino" I am here, little mouse. Francesco reassured.

Upon hearing his voice Eleanor stepped closer, not yet learning the layout of the apartment to know where to turn on the lights.

"Why are you sitting here in the dark?" Eleanor asked. "Is everything okay?"

Francesco pulled her to him, causing her to gasp as she fell into his lap. He adjusted her until she was straddling him before bracketing her face between his hands.

"Everything is fine now." He said, regretting how heavy his voice sounded.

Eleanor leaned her forehead onto his, and he imagined her eyes were closed like his as hers as they sat like that in silence.

"What happened?" Eleanor asked, this time her question firmer.

"It is nothing you have to worry about, it's just work."

"You can talk to me, you know?" Eleanor said, her voice sounded shy but in the darkness, Francesco was unable to see her emotions on her face.

"I know. But for now, I want to hold you." Maybe it was the liquor or the darkness that gave him his confidence to be vulnerable, but Francesco continued, "You make me feel sane when everything else is going to shit."

Eleanor laughed softly, "Ironically enough, you make me feel the same way."

"We are hopeless, no?" The melancholy and self-pity had been evident in his voice.

Francesco felt the sweetness of Eleanor's lips on his mixing in with the liquor on his lips. It was a tender and slow kiss, one that held on to the words they both struggled to say at that moment.

"Come on, let's go to bed." Eleanor urged. She took his hand and led him to the bedroom step by step. While Francesco stripped down to his boxers, Eleanor climbed into the bed, only highlighted by the light noise from outside.

Instead of their many nights before where Francesco had tried to remain as far away as possible, Francesco found himself collapsing on Eleanor's chest.

He adjusted until his body weight was causing discomfortable, and her heartbeat thrummed softly under his ear. The sound quickly lulled him to sleep.