Serving Mr. Serrano

Between Eden and A Hard Place

I was frozen in place, unable to move.

I stared at both bodies, uncertain who to tend to first. I looked at my father, who hadn't moved an inch since the bullet wedged its way into his skull. Who had a pool of blood gathering beneath him, staining the carpet.

And then at my brother, who had his hand clutched to his chest, blinking up at the ceiling in pure shock. He, too, was bleeding into the carpet…

But at least I knew he was alive.

I snapped out of my stupor then, and with hands trembling, heart pounding a panicked, terrified beat in my chest, I rounded the table and knelt at my father's side. Before my fingers even pressed against the carotid artery in his neck, I knew there would be no pulse.

But I checked anyway, because some part of me had to be certain. I had to be sure…

I peeled my eyes away from his, unable to stare any longer at his unseeing gaze. I covered his eyes with my hand, closing them as respectfully as I could.

Strange. He was still so warm.

I didn't realise I was crying until my vision blurred and I had to wipe my eyes with the back of my trembling hand.

"N-Nic."

I glanced over at my brother, who lay dying by the door. He was croaking out short breaths, blood spitting from his mouth with every breath he took. I scrambled over to him, pulling my shirt off my body. I bunched it up, pressed firmly against the hole in his chest.

"Nic…"

"Hold on, Luca. Please. I'm so sorry. Please don't die. Please."

The screaming must have attracted attention - or perhaps it was the gunshots - because Uncle Percy and my mother came rushing into the room with their weapons drawn. They looked down at me, trying to save Luca as I wept. Then at my father, who was lying by his desk with a bullet in his head.

My mother screamed.

She dropped her gun and ran to his side, where she pulled him into her arms and cradled his body to her chest. I returned my gaze to Luca, who was now clutching at my bare arms with bloodied hands, his gun long forgotten on the carpet.

"Luca…"

He tried to speak, but all I could hear was his wheezing. Instead of words, blood and saliva spat from his mouth.

"No, Luca, please."

His grasp loosened around my forearm, the determination and resolution fading from his eyes with each passing second. I knew he was dying, knew I couldn't save him.

So I just held him instead until the life had drained completely from him and his heart stopped beating.

***

I woke with a gasp, shooting upright from the warmth of my bed, fists clutching at the crisp, cotton sheets. My heart was pounding a frenzied beat in my chest, my breathing shallow as the visions of my dreams followed me to consciousness. I ran a trembling hand through my hair, combing the damp mane off my face.

I knew I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep if I tried, and so I pushed the sheets off my body and settled on the edge of the king-sized bed. With my elbows propped on my bent knees, I held my head in my hands and just… breathed.

Inhale. Exhale.

In. Out.

Slowly.

Until my heart beat slowed.

Until my hands stopped trembling.

When I removed my hands from my face and rose, my body immediately retaliated by weakening my knees and making my head spin. I stumbled, reaching out for the wall to steady myself.

I waited until the lightheadedness passed, then made my way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I stood under the spray while the water warmed, blindly pushing my hair off my face.

The gunshot rang out again, and my eyes snapped open. But all I could see was the black marble of the bathroom walls, the water as it fell in a soothing downpour from the taps.

Every year, without fail, the memories of that fateful night came back to haunt me. The nightmares started a few days before the anniversary, getting more and more gruesome and vivid until I couldn't sleep anymore.

And for some reason I couldn't understand, they were worse this year.

I could barely close my eyes for an hour before I was plunged back into that abyss, pulled deeper and deeper by the grief and regret and anger.

Then I would startle awake, often unable to breathe, having relived one of the worst nights of my life.

If I went to a psychiatrist, they'd tell me the dreams were a result of my guilt. That I blamed myself for what had happened. In order to move on, I would need to face the past and forgive myself for the role I played.

My mother, Percival and Tomas had all muttered the same thing year after year. And while it made all the sense in the world, I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

As I dried off, the sun peeked out over the horizon, casting its light and warmth over the manor and its lake.

I turned away from it, though, unable to even enjoy the warm hues painted over the sky by the rising sun because it brought with it a new day.

A day I cursed.

A day I would be too happy to skip entirely if I had the choice.

The twenty-first of March.

The day my family nearly lost everything.

The day our legacy nearly crumbled beneath us.

The day I lost my brother.

The day I lost my father.

After I threw on some clothes, Ben drove me to the cemetery in Bella where my family's plot sat atop a small hill. Like many of the other plots around it, ours had a brick fence and an old, wrought iron gate that squeaked when I opened it.

I walked past the empty space where my remaining family members and I would one day be buried, and stopped in front of my father's and my brother's graves.

I twisted the lid off the Van Winkle bottle and poured a generous measure in front of each headstone before taking a large sip. I removed my handkerchief from the pocket and dusted off the dirt and leaves on their headstones, then rearranged the flowers my mother had placed there a few days ago.

I decided to pay my respects to my father first, kneeling on the freshly-cut grass to get a better view of the words engraved in the concrete.

"Peace Always Be Unto You.

Leonardo Emmanuel Serrano

27 October 1956 - 21 March 2002"

"Lo siento, Padre. There's not a single day that passes that I don't miss you. I hope you were able to find the peace you sought in the afterlife that you never attained during your time on this earth."

I removed one of the bullets from my pocket, kissed it, then buried it in the green grass. I rose to my full height, trying to think of a memory I had of him. But everything was hazy, and all I could remember in detail was the sound of his voice as he repeated; "'Killing your enemies is easy, but in order to truly destroy a man, you must crush his spirit'."

A lesson I had not forgotten in all the years of my rule, a method I implemented when I crushed my enemies. I wondered briefly if he would be proud of the man that I had become, or if he would be disappointed that I'd taken his place after his death.

I spared one last look at his headstone before turning to my brother's grave, repeating the ritual.

As I buried the polished bullet in the grass, my heart squeezed painfully in my chest and I hesitated in my speech. While the memory of my father was blurred at best, I remembered Luca distinctly better. The deep sound of his voice, the confidence in his stride, the determination with which he faced any challenge.

"'Fortune favours the bold, brother. Power is never given. It has to be taken. Only then, is it truly yours'."

I sighed, pushed the metal into the grass and traced the words on his headstone with the tip of my finger.

"To our beloved brother and son, who feared nothing.

Luca Gianluigi Antonio Serrano

3 August 1977 - 21 March 2002."

I sat down with the bourbon in my hand, drowning myself in liquor and guilt, grateful for the privacy of the walls and the quiet of the cemetery. I don't know how much time passes, but by the time I hear the crunch of footsteps behind me, the sun is shining bright in the cloudless sky. I cast a glance over my shoulder to see Percival approaching slowly.

I'm not surprised to see him dressed, as always, in his black suit, hands in his pockets. He says nothing about the bags under my eyes, or the air of grief that I'd been carrying for the last few days. He doesn't even remark on my visiting the graves after all these years, but he does look over at Luca's headstone for a second before turning to me.

"Dominic."

I nodded, then turned back to the graves without a word.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine, Percival."

I lifted the half-empty bottle and gulped down the alcohol, wincing as it burned my lips and throat and stomach.

"What's your problem?" Percy asked, moving to stand where he could look at me.

"Excuse me?" I snapped, looking up at him through the lens of my aviators.

"What is your problem? You've been walking around like you've got a giant stick up your ass. What is it?"

I glared at him, my anger rising quickly to the surface. A result of the alcohol, I think. But then again, I couldn't be sure.

"That is none of your business."

"Yes, it is. Your surly mood is affecting everyone around you and they're all too chicken s**t to confront you."

I lifted the bottle, intent on tossing its contents down my throat when Percy grabbed it right out of my hand, flinging it across the plot. The glass shattered against the concrete with a resounding crash, the liquor drenching the walls.

Some of the bourbon trickled down my chin, the drops lingering in my beard before dripping down to stain my shirt. I wiped what I could with the back of my hand, which still shook from the mass of emotions I was feeling.

"That's enough. You've been guzzling that s**t like water lately. What the f**k is this about? Malice?"

If only…

"No."

"Dominic David Serrano…"

Percy growling my full name like that made my gaze snap upwards, my anger dulling at the edges.

"I'll ask you one more time," he said, taking a step forward. "What is the problem?"

I pulled my legs towards me as far as they would go, placed my elbows on my knees to cover my face with my hands. I sent a silent prayer to whichever entity would listen, pleading to be left alone to drown in my own madness, to be swallowed up by the demons that lived in my head.

But Percy bent to sit down beside me, grunting with the effort. He sat there until I dropped my hands and looked at him. His eyes narrowed in concern, and he studied my features carefully before asking, "When last did you sleep, Nic?"

I rubbed my temples, fighting off the impending headache that had been with me for what felt like months.

"Properly? Maybe two weeks ago. I get a few hours of sleep every day, but…"

He waited, quiet.

"But then the dreams start and I wake up sweating, panting like crazy."

"What do you dream about?"

I glanced at my father's headstone for a bit, then closed my eyes.

"It doesn't matter, Percy. They're just dreams."

"Tell me anyway," he encouraged, settling into the grass as if prepared to wait me out.

And even though it takes a few minutes to find the words, to gather the courage to bare my vulnerability, I eventually admit: "It's never the same thing. Sometimes I dream about that night. Sometimes, I'm asleep in the dream, I think. Or maybe it's a vision, but in it, I see you and Ma and Tomas… And Eden. We're sitting around this table, eating and laughing and happy. Then I wake up, and you're all dead. Your bodies lie on the floor around the cot, lifeless and decomposing. Eden with a bullet in her head, Mother with her throat slit, your body peppered with bullets and Tomas with this foam bubbling around his mouth. Then Father walks in, but he's this demonic thing and he accuses me of failing him, of failing all of you. That's when I wake up."

He's quiet for a very long time, unblinking.

"So this is about your father."

I nodded slowly, and Percy nodded.

"You still blame yourself, after all these years?" he asked gently.

"I suppose. If things hadn't gone the way they did, maybe they'd still be alive today. Sometimes I go over the events of that night in my head, and I wish with everything I have that I could change the outcome. But it always ends the same and it… It was my fault, Percy."

"It wasn't-"

"You weren't there! None of you were. You don't know what really happened."

Percy placed a comforting hand on my shoulder even as his gaze lifted to the headstone.

"No matter how depressing the past may be, Dominic, there is nothing any of us can do to change it. You know that as well as I do. Your inability to accept what happened is the reason you try so hard to control everything and everyone around you, and I'm sorry to tell you this, but some things are beyond your control."

I went silent, replaying everything that had happened that fateful evening in my head, regret and guilt filling my chest and robbing me of breath.

"He never wanted this for any of you, you know? He always emphasised how much he hated that the three of you were born into this life that he'd created."

I looked at Percy, just as he glanced down at me.

"Do you think… that he'd be proud of me? Of the man I've become?"

His hand squeezed briefly before he let go.

"I don't know, Nic. But I'm absolutely certain he'd be berating you for being without a wife at your age."

I chuckled mirthlessly at that, not in the least bit amused.

"Marriage is the last thing on my mind, Percy. The idea of committing to one person for the rest of time is enough to make me consider jumping out of a window."

"But you know you have to, eventually. You'll have to produce an heir soon to take your place on the throne."

I did.

But I still had time.

Maybe in a year or two, I would choose one of the powerful, beautiful women I so frequently met and settle down with her.

Maybe we would have a couple of kids, who she would raise alone while I grew my empire.

Maybe one day, one of them would take over when I was too old to do much of anything, and make me proud.

"The woman in your dream… Is there a reason for her presence?"

"Other than being a f*****g thorn in my side?"

"She's the one I warned you to stay away from, isn't she? Hmm. Figures," Percy muttered, his lips pursed with obvious disapproval.

"What happened?"

So I filled him in, leaving out the sordid details of our heated dalliance in the theatre room. Percy listens, his finger tapping quietly on his knee. When I'm done, he sighed deeply.

"You should've listened when I warned you."

"She didn't do anything wrong."

"Except reject you," he pointed out, gaze sweeping over my features. "You know she's allowed to do that, right?"

I nodded. "Of course. I just… didn't think that she would. Especially when it's so f*****g obvious that she wants me as much as I want her. She actually chose to leave with Theodore Leighton instead of me."

Percival sighed, his head tilting to the side in understanding.

"You're brooding because the woman you want chose another man over you."

"I am not brooding, Percival."

"You are," he argued, waving a dismissive hand.

I felt it then, the unmistakable effect of the stress and sitting out in the sun for hours. Percy held out his handkerchief as I tilted my head back, and gently nudged my head forward so the blood would flow out.

"Perhaps you can find other ways of forgetting this Eden person."

I almost laughed.

"I've had a different woman, every night, for the past two weeks. My attempts have been unsuccessful so far."

I couldn't even bring myself to come.

I'd get right to the edge, fuelled by the sweet moans of some nameless woman when Eden's perfect f*****g face popped into my mind and I just… I couldn't bring myself to continue.

"Have you tried speaking to this girl?"

"I would rather tie my testicles to a flagpole-"

"Gross."

"And hang until Jesus Christ himself comes floating down from the Heavens."

His brows hike upwards pointedly, as if questioning my sanity. But then his expression softened and he asked, "You can't move past her, can you?"

"It should be easy. I've walked away from women before and it's never been a problem. But for some reason, Percy, I see her in my dreams, she consumes my thoughts and I'm… worried that it will never stop."

After a moment, Percy said, "Something about her doesn't add up, Nic. There are just too many holes in her story, too many secrets in her past."

"I know. Ben is keeping tabs on her, digging into her story. It's difficult. She's really, really good at what she does."

"Is that admiration in your voice, Serrano?"

I pulled the square away from my nose now that the bleeding had stopped, and folded it once to wipe away whatever blood may be remaining.

"Unfortunately."

Percy turned to stare ahead, his brows knitting in contemplation.

"Let me take over the investigation. I have access to more resources than Ben. I'll find something," Percy promised. "I just need you to steer clear of her until I do. I hope that's not too much to ask."

It was.

Especially when I'd already drawn up the new contract and had acquired spare keys to her new apartment. Something in my expression betrays me because Percival turned to glare at me.

"Goddammit, Dominic. I thought you'd rather hang by your balls until Christ's second-coming."

"I exaggerate for dramatic purposes. But of course I'm going after her. You really think I'd just allow her to walk away from me like this? Never."

"You're obsessed."

"It isn't like that," I sighed, glancing at him.

"Then what's it like?"

"She understands, Percy. She understands what I need and she understands me. As depraved as my thoughts are, as sadistic as I am, she doesn't recoil from any of it. I've never in my life met anyone who responds to me the way that she does. With such…"

I trailed off, sighing resignedly when the words didn't come to me. But it seems as if he understands anyway, because he pressed his lips together and nodded.

"It seems you already know what to do."

I said nothing, and he shrugged.

"I'll run the investigation on her anyway, see what pops up. I would ask you to wait until I have some answers, but I already know that you're going to do what you want anyway."

Percy stood, waving a hand in dismissal when I offered to help him up. He brushed off the grass on his pants, checked to make sure he was presentable, then made his way towards the gate.

"Percival."

He stopped.

"Thank you. For everything."

He doesn't turn around, nor does he respond. But the silence that followed spoke for itself. We so rarely had these moments that it was almost strange when we did.

I knew that we wouldn't have any of the wealth we do now if it weren't for Percy. If he hadn't remained loyal to us, if he hadn't taught me everything I know and protected us from our enemies and allies alike, I'd likely be six-feet underground, my corpse rotting next to my brother's.

"Just don't get yourself killed chasing after this woman."

"But what a way to go," I mused, rising from my seat.

He chuckled, then mock-saluted before he walked out and closed the gate behind him. Not even a minute after he's gone does the iron swing open again, and footsteps approach me.

"Sir. Urgent business."

Ben wouldn't interrupt unless it was important, I knew that. But I still wanted some more time alone.

"Of all days, Benjamin…"

"I'm sorry, sir. But Gabriel Mammen and Sebastian Van Kirk have asked to meet with you regarding the shipment of Omega arriving within the week."

I sighed, pushing my aviators higher on my nose.

"When?"

"At noon. The Weston."

I nodded, acknowledging his words.

"I'll meet you at the car in fifteen minutes. I need a bit more time."

With a nod, Ben turned on his heel and left me alone to wait in the car. I closed my eyes briefly, inhaling the scent of grass, of rain and the past. I basked a few seconds longer in the warmth of the sun, tilting my head back to feel it on my face.

After one last breath, I rose from the ground, brushing off grass and a few bugs that had managed to cling to the wool of my pants. I am followed to the convoy of black SUVs by my guards, all of whom wait until I'm safely inside my car to slide into theirs.

Ben drove past the steel gates of the cemetery, then out of the suburb of Bella, enroute to North Nito. I thought back to my conversation with Percy, then filled Ben in on the latest development. He accepted the news with a nod, and said nothing more.

"How is she?"

"Busy," he replied. "The work you sent her way is keeping her away from LPM and its clients."

I nodded, pleased with the news.

"Have any of them reached out?"

"A few, but to no avail. Her handler has been keeping them at bay, I think until her contract expires at the end of the month."

As she should.

"However… she is aware of the team you had following her because she ducked out earlier. We traced her to the offices of Rivera Logistics and know she's been there since."

What business could she possibly have with Rivera? And why would she need to dodge her security detail to meet with him?

"She was contacted by Jeffrey Black."

Our eyes locked in the rearview mirror.

I blinked once, twice.

Then I reached for the phone I'd left in here last night. A few swipes and clicks lead me to her messages, and my jaw clenched with suspicion the more I read of their messages.

Eden knew Jeffrey Black.

Intimately.

Shit.

Maybe Percival was right. Maybe I should let this one go. Or at least wait until I knew everything I could about her.

But when I closed my eyes, the memory of her in my arms flashed into my mind, her voice so loud in my head that I could almost feel the smooth lick of it in my ear.

And f**k, her hands…

Parts of me ached, throbbed with the need to feel her touch me with the same passion I stroked her curves and f****d her p***y.

I needed…

Fuck.

I needed her.

I needed that peace she'd suggested I would find between her legs that night. I needed an outlet for the built-up tension, the rage… the unhappiness.

"This is business."

That recurring dream I'd been having had me thinking otherwise. I knew my attraction to Eden wasn't normal or the least bit sane, and the idea of that morphing into something else scared the absolute s**t out of me.

But then I thought of the peace I felt when I was with her, the satisfaction that rushed through me when she knelt at my feet and worshipped me, demons and all. And even though she had left with another man that night, choosing his needs over mine, I still wanted her.

Still craved her.

"You're so turned on, your arousal running down your thighs and you're seconds away from coming all over my hand… Yet you still have the audacity to test me."

"But isn't that what you want?"

I looked down at my phone for a long, long moment. Contemplating…

Weighing up my options.

"Isn't that exactly what you want, Dominic?"

… It was.