Finn
Giannaand I spend days searching through files, cross-referencing names, and combing through all the information I've gathered until the pieces start to come together. A name here, a signature there. A location scribbled in the margin of a shipment manifest. I tried calling anyone who could help me locate Liam. I thought my brother was dead too, but when I heard rumors that he might be alive, I tried to find him. I eventually gave up when I realized he didn't want to be found.
But things are different now. I'm different now. I have someone I want to protect with my life, someone who has shifted my priorities. If finding Liam means betraying Declan, so be it. "I think we're getting close," Gianna says, pointing at the navigator on the dashboard screen. My eyes flicker to the glowing screen. She's right, we're about thirty minutes away.
We finally found the coordinates where Liam is hiding. Turns out he isn't across the world like I assumed; he's been close by all along. He's been hiding in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Gianna and I have been on the road for more than two hours. I didn't want her to come with me. I felt calm, knowing she was safe within the four walls of my apartment, but she insisted on coming.
"What's Liam like? I don't think I've heard you talk much about him," Gianna asks, her voice soft but curious. I glance sideways, catching the way she tucks a few loose strands of her hair behind her ear. The sun slants through the windshield, casting a warm glow on her face. I've always liked it when her hair is tied up, making her more effortlessly beautiful. Plus, I get to stare at the curve of her neck, the slope of her collarbone. It's a quiet obsession I don't think I'll ever shake.
My eyes return to the road, allowing myself to dwell on the question. "Cold and emotionless like the rest of my brothers," I respond. I've never felt warmth from my brothers before. I didn't know what love meant; the only thing we recognize is blood. Maybe that's why it took me so long to understand my feelings for Gianna, because it feels foreign.
It's not something I'm used to.
My eyes flick to Gianna again. Worry is on her face. "Liam will help us," I say, convincing myself more than her. I never want to see her sad or worried. It breaks my heart.
Finally, we're here.
I glance at the gated house, two stories high. I turn to Gianna. "Stay here," I say, and unbuckle my seat belt, but Gianna stops me, grabbing my wrist. "I'm coming with you," she says, looking at me like I'm crazy when she's the crazy one. "Gianna. You can't come with me. I haven't seen Liam in years. I don't know what I'm walking into, and I can't risk taking you with me."
"So what? I'm just supposed to sit here and wait?"
"Yes. Do exactly that."
"No," she says, meeting my gaze. "Stop treating me like I'm some kind of fragile doll. I love that you care, but this is something I have to do. I started this mess."
I sigh, running my hand through my hair. I've never won once with her, and I don't think I ever will. "Fine, but we need to be alert at all times." Gianna nods. We exit the car, and I takein the black metal gate, guarding the person who might be our ticket to staying alive.
I stop at the doorbell and press it. I glance at Gianna, our eyes meeting when nothing comes through. I press it again, and this time, a voice comes through. "What do we have here?" A voice that evokes memories and emotions that my brain has locked away.
The voice disappears, and I look up to see a camera at the pillar of the gate. He's watching us. The gate creaks open, the sound grating on my ears. "Let's go," I nod to Gianna. We get into the car and drive through the gate.
The house stands alone at the end of a curved driveway, surrounded by stillness. The modest two-story structure is painted in a soft cream with a faded brown roof. Manicured grass stretches evenly across the front yard, edged with a few tall trees that cast gentle shadows. A small stone fountain is tucked beside the front wall, its water barely audible, blending into the structure. Two simple cars are parked out front. This looks like a home built for a family, which makes sense since Liam is trying not to get noticed.
Before I even put the car fully into park, I see him. Liam. He's standing at the edge of the porch, dressed in a plain shirt and dark pants, hands casually tucked in his pockets like he hasn't been hiding for years. Like we're just two brothers reuniting after a long day, not after years of silence and disappearance.
My stomach knots. We all thought he was dead, and now he's alive, standing before me. All the memories I have of him flash in my mind as I park the car. I don't know what to expect, and that scares me, especially with Gianna here.
I cut the engine and step out of the car, and Gianna does the same. Liam's eyes land on me like a shot, pinning me in place. His lips twist into a smile, and he walks towards me. Thensuddenly, he pulls me into a hug, thumping his palm against my back. "Look at you," he mutters. "You're a man now."
I freeze for a second. It feels strange, distant, too easy. I glance at Gianna. She raises her brows and subtly gestures for me to hug him back. I do, awkwardly returning the gesture. It's strange, but I manage. I remind myself this moment isn't about how I feel, it's about getting help protecting Gianna.
Liam pulls away, and his smile fades as his gaze slides over to Gianna like he's just realizing she's there. "And who's this?" he asks.
Gianna's eyes flick from me to Liam. "I'm Gianna..." She looks like she's contemplating whether or not to say her last name. "Rosso," she finally says. Liam's brow lifts slowly, his gaze bouncing between the two of us, calculating. There's a glint in his eyes, sharp and unpredictable.
"Well... this is going to be interesting," he murmurs with a smirk that I don't like one bit. Gianna's discomfort radiates off her, so I quickly step in, taking the attention off her.
"Aren't you going to invite us in?" I say, and his eyes snap back to me.
"Of course," he says, turning on his heel and walking toward the door like nothing's out of the ordinary. Gianna and I follow him, but before we step over the threshold, I reach back and gently grab her wrist, tugging her behind me. I don't trust this. I don't trust Liam, not yet.
The smell of coffee drifts between us, thick and bitter. Liam pours the steaming liquid into two mugs, one for me, one for Gianna, before finally filling his own. He sets the pot aside and takes a long sip. "Help yourself," he mutters, like this is some normal family catch-up over caffeine and old memories. I stare at the cup but don't touch it. Gianna mirrors my hesitation, her hands clenched in her lap.
"I thought you were dead," I say, my voice harder than I expected. It's just sickening how we call ourselves family and we act more like strangers, or even worse.
Liam smirks, unbothered. "Clearly not dead, since you're standing in my kitchen."
"Liam..." I start, but he raises a finger.
