Roswell Fanatics

Accompanying music, "Vindicated" by Dashboard Confessional.


<center>Chapter 10- Maxwell “Basil Deo” Evans: Kingly, God-like Romeo

Part 1


“Remember that all through history the way of truth and love had always won. There have been tyrants and murderers and for a time they seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall—think of it always.”
–Mahatma Ghandi</center>

He lived a life where nickels and dimes weren’t little pieces of metal with dead presidents on them. He lived a life where a nickel was worth five hundred and not five cents, and a dime was a grand and not ten cents, but he sure spent the money like it was change.

He had a driver, an assistant, a business partner, lackeys, and he had bodyguards, even though he carried a gun behind his back or in his shoulder holsters, but for as long as Max Evans has led the Antarians under the name “Basil Deo," not once has he shot off a whole round of bullets at one time.

You see, Max Evans isn’t that kind of gangster. He’s not interested in killing anyone to get what he wanted. He’s just trying to make an honest living.

Yeah, go ahead and call it bullshit. I know what you’re thinking, “How the hell can you make an honest living as a mobster?” Now in all fairness, I didn’t say it was a completely honest living, but Max tried to make what he did honest.

“No good deed goes unpunished.”

And I guess you can say Max Evans proves that saying right. Let me explain, from the beginning.

Kismet. Doom. Moira. Fate. They all mean the same thing. They all mean destiny. Now it’s your choice to believe that our lives are predetermined, that a higher power has something planned for all us but Max Evans doesn’t. We are in control of the choices we make, thus, in essence, in control of our own lives. That’s what Max believes.

Now what if you were told that we aren’t? That we aren’t in control of our own lives? Now what if you were told you weren't in control of your life? What if someone told you that you had no choice but to be a doctor? Or lawyer? Or…maybe a king? Well, Max Evans was around the age of seven when he was told that he was to become a king.

Max had been born into the business and was destined to one day take the helm of a kingdom of his own. Phillip Evans led his own organization, gaining money, respect and power making him a mob boss before any of his children were born.

It was in the family. Phillip Evans led his own organization and gained money, respect, and power in no time. He was a mob boss before any of his children were born. So Max was definitely born into the business and would one day take the helm of a kingdom of his own.

However, while Phillip knew that his son would be a king he, Phillip didn’t know what would happen to him and his own kingdom. It would have helped if Phillip Evans knew his own destiny.

You see, Phillip Evans was arrested and Max clearly remembered the day his father had fallen. It was the day he was told he was to be king.

The Evans patriarch came rushing into the house one stormy night. Max was waiting for his father to come and when he did, he came home covered in blood. The young boy would never forget the loud crash that came soon after he saw his father run to the sink, to wash the remnants of a murder. The loud crash was the sound of the front door being rammed open by the police. Max witnessed from behind study doors as two policemen grabbed Phillip from behind. Phillip gave in, raising his hands covered with gloves of crimson red blood above his head.

“Stop!” Max shouted.

The three men looked to the small boy standing in the doorway.

“Max!” Phillip exclaimed in shock.

His son ran towards him but only ran a few feet before Isabel grabbed her little brother by the collar.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Max cried.

Phillip looked to two men on both sides of him. They nodded and released their grip on the man’s arms. Phillip walked towards his son and got onto his knees. “I’ve got to go now, son,” he claimed.

With his beady eyes, Max’s curiosity grew. “Where? You’re not supposed to leave until tomorrow.”

Phillip Evans’s organization was based in Santa Fe. He was only home on the weekends, but Max still looked up to his father. To the little boy with the bowl-cut brunette hair, his father was Mr. Fantastic, Superman, and Captain America all rolled into one. Everything Phillip did, Max wanted to do. When Max was seven and realized that his father wore a suit everyday, Max pulled his one business suit out of his closet and wore it everyday, even when by the end of the week, the suit was wrinkled and covered with mud.

“I know,” Phillip nodded, embarrassed. “But it looks like I have to go, and I don’t think I’m coming back.”

“Dad, what are you talking about?” Isabel wondered.

Looking over his shoulder at the police officers patiently waiting, Phillip cleared his throat. “Isabel, I’ve done something bad. Listen to me, when I leave, go to your room and pack all that you can carry. Make sure you pack for Max and Thomas too.”

Max looked up at his now frightened sister. “What?” she questioned. “Why?”

“Just do as I say,” Phillip ordered.

“Wh—what about Mom?”

After sighing heavily, Phillip cleared his throat again. “You have to leave her behind. You won’t be able to take care of her.”

Phillip Evans loved his wife and if he could, he would have left the business like she asked him to. Phillip would have done so if he could. He would have left the money, respect, and power behind because he loved her that much. It’s not that simple though. So Diane Evans compromised and adapted to the life of a mobster’s wife.

She didn’t adapt too well. Diane Evans watched her husband leave the house every Sunday night and come home Friday nights, and even when he was home, she’d only see her husband for a few hours in the day. That lack of affection started the downward spiral that was once Diane Evans’s life. She was beautiful and intelligent, on her way to becoming CEO a big computer corporation, but then she met Phillip and he just astounded her. He swept her off her feet and before you knew it, Diane was wearing a large diamond on her left ring finger, which was accompanied with a gold wedding band.

Isabel was born, and while Isabel was a beautiful little girl, Diane fell into depression. I guess you can say it was postpartum depression, but it was much more than that.

By the time Max was born, Diane was despondent, barely responsive. Max noticed this when he was five, just a little tot entering kindergarten. He’d come home from school ready to tell Mom about the little girl he pushed into the sandbox, but instead, he’d come home to talk to the wall, because that’s how it was with Diane, she became catatonic. It was a tragedy. She was there, but not really, you know? And it was a shame because Isabel and Max loved their mother so much.

“I’m not leaving Mom!” Max cried.

“Keep your voice down,” Phillip begged. “Look, you have to runaway, ok? Because someone will tear the three of you apart. So Isabel, take your brothers to the train station, Marcus will drive you. You’re going to go to L.A. Remember us talking about Los Angeles, Max?”

The little boy smiled happily. “Yeah! You said you were going to buy us a house by the beach.”

Phillip looked to his daughter and then his son. He smiled proudly. “That’s right, but I won’t be able to buy it, you will, Max.”

With fear coursing through him, Max looked to his sister in confusion. But this time, Isabel couldn’t give him answer like she had done so many times before. “Wh—What do you mean?” the seven-year old boy asked his father.

Phillip looked briefly over his shoulder. “Max, one day you will have a kingdom,” he whispered. “You’ll have so much money you won’t know what to do with it. People will look up to you and respect you and you will be loved. They will do what you to tell them to do because you will have that power.”

Max could only shake his head in confusion. “Dad, what—”

“Evans!” one of the policemen shouted. “It’s time to go.”

Phillip moved closer to his son and kissed his cheek. “You are a king, Max. You understand me? It’s who you’re meant to be.”

Then just like that, the policemen were dragging Phillip Evans out of the Evans mansion and as soon as they could no longer see the red and blue of the police patrol car, Max and Isabel were running up to their rooms to pack all that they could.

With Thomas carefully tucked into a stroller, Max and Isabel made one stop before going to the garage where their driver Marcus was waiting for them. Max and Isabel said a tearful goodbye to their mother who rested in a deep sleep. It was best that they spoke to her as she slept because that’s when she was awake the most, in her dreams.

Max had to pull his crying sister away from their mother’s side because at any time, social services would be at their door ready to take the siblings away from each other. They rushed to the garage, through the rain, and Marcs quickly drove to the train station. Once there, Isabel purchased two tickets with some of the hundreds of thousands of dollars that she took from the safe located behind the family portrait before they left their home for good. In a matter of hours, they’d find a new home, in Los Angeles.

TBC

<center>Chapter 10- Maxwell “Basil Deo” Evans: Romeo

Part 2</center>


Michael leaned against the doorframe to his best friend’s office and watched as his best friend, his brother and his confidant, stared out the window. “Penny for your thoughts, Don Max?”

The man sitting in the leather chair leaned forward, returning his seat into its original position. He ran his hand over his chest, ironing out his fine Armani suit. It was one of hundreds, but he always preferred a t-shirt, jeans, and his leather jacket.

In response to Michael’s comment, Max rolled his eyes. “Damn it, Michael, if you don’t stop with that ‘Don’ crap, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Scratching his eyebrow lightly, Michael shook his head as he walked further into the office, ending his journey on the leather couch. “No you won’t. You don’t like to get you hands dirty.”

Max sighed heavily and went back to leaning back in his chair and staring out the window. His restaurant rested on a hilltop, and Max's office had the perfect view of Beverly Hills; the brighter than white buildings, the palm trees in the middle of the streets, and the beach just over yonder.

“What’s up?”

Max tore his eyes away from the beautiful scenery and turned to Michael. “What?”

“Well, you’re obviously thinking about something,” Michael answered. “What about?”

Max glanced at his desk and Michael got up and walked over. He looked down at a stack of papers bound together. The last page was blue.

“Those the divorce papers?”

Max nodded as he rubbed his forehead and then ran his hand through his crew cut hair. “Michael, I don’t know,” he sighed. “Maybe we can go to marriage counseling. You know, see a therapist.”

“And throw away thousands of dollars? No, Maxwell. Tess screwed up and she needs to go.”

Tess Harding was an heiress with millions of dollars to her name. By the time Max had met Tess, he was already a millionaire, at 17. So you’d think Max married for love.

A little after he was married, Max's restaurant was ready to be opened. That was Max's primary goal, to open a restaurant. He had forgotten what his father had told him when he was arrested. Max thought nothing of it and Isabel had convinced him that their father was just crazy. So that whole notion of having a kingdom and being a king just left Max's mind. Yet, it was inevitable and Max didn’t realize it.

Phillip’s brother, Nasedo, picked the kids up at the train station after the long trip from New Mexico. Involved with the “business” in Los Angeles, Nasedo introduced Max to the trade by making his nephew a part of his gang. Max was a natural at the business. Through his teenage years, Nasedo guided Max into becoming the king that he was destined to be.

Max saw it as good and easy cash and Michael did too. He was right by his best friend’s side since the first day they met. Max was new to school and he had met Michael through Isabel. Michael was the first friend Max and his sister had since moving to Los Angeles.

Michael had fallen in love with the idea of opening up a restaurant. Actually, he just loved the idea of working with his best friend. Max did too, and so a year after he had joined his uncle’s organization at ten, Max got Michael in. His savings doubled now that Michael was throwing his own earnings into the pot. They were business partners and at 15, Nasedo had let Max and Michael go, hoping that they would start their own organization, which they did. Nasedo gave his nephew some of his men. Going in, Max and Michael had each other’s back.

It was Michael’s idea to put money in different investments and to look for an income elsewhere because nothing was certain in the life of a mobster. “Elsewhere” included Tess Harding. They went to school with the blonde bombshell. She and Max became high school sweethearts and by the age of 20, Michael encouraged Max to marry the girl. Max and Tess were in love, or what Max believed was love, and besides that, she had clean money, money they needed to open their restaurant. The money they made through the organization wasn’t safe enough to use to open the restaurant, it was money they were going to use to keep the restaurant alive.

Ronin was opened a few months after the Max and Tess were married. Max and Michael were so proud of their hard work. They hired the best architect, designers, chefs, and accountants to take care of the restaurant. Opening night was a big affair in West Hollywood. Ronin was a success.

During the day, Max was running Ronin, at night, he was making sure that drugs were being purchased and that coffee was being exported. It’s not what you think, though.

When Max and Michael had started the organization, Michael let Max lead the Antarians, a name that came to Michael one night when he looked to the sky. Max's first act as leader was to establish that they were going to do things differently. He was not going to end up like his father, covered in blood as the police took him away. Most important step in doing that was by taking on an alter ego, by becoming “Basil Deo”.

So call Max Robin Hood because he was going to “steal from the rich and give to the poor” and he was going to stop everything that was wrong with the Mafia. I guess you can say the Antarians were double agents, doing good in an illegal business while trying their best to avoid the law.

Max's lackeys purchased narcotics, which would leave on the ships that exported coffee. Once out at sea, the drugs were dumped for the fishes. Max was trying to clean up the streets, keeping all that shit away from kids. But the Antarians did more than clean up the street. They’d oust the corrupt members of the upper class. You wouldn’t believe what the rich want hidden. They’d hire Max and his gang to do certain jobs, jobs Max and his organization would do well. With all the information that Max would acquire from doing said jobs, it was enough to blackmail the corrupt, upper class of areas around the world.

The Antarians fought against dangerous organizations and tried to keep drugs off the street and away from kids, and you can’t do that by asking politely. So yeah, Max was aggressive and determined and asserted his power, but he never killed anyone. That was a no-no.

Max Evans’s life was good…perfect. He was famous for his restaurant, he married a beautiful woman, and he was the leader of an indestructible and infamous underground organization, and Max was never going to fall. He was too smart, too many steps ahead of the game, too invincible.

Accompanying music, "Daughters" by John Mayer.

<center>BOOK III—Relations

Chapter 11- Daughters of a Felon


“Your son is your son until he marries, but your daughter is your daughter until you die.”
–Irish Saying</center>

After having taken off the white lab coat, Liz placed it on the crook of her arm and continued up the stairs to her loft. She could’ve sworn that the owner of the building said that he was going to have an elevator installed in the place. Probably a year later and Liz was still climbing up five flights of stairs.

When her father had bought her the place, Liz couldn't deny that she fell in love with the spacious and fully furnished loft. If her father hadn’t bought her the place just to create distance between herself and Sean, Liz would be happy to live in the loft. However, the loft was bought to create distance between Liz and Sean, and it now it served as a painful memory of the love she lost.

Why doesn’t she just pick up and find a new home you ask? Nothing is ever that simple, ever. Liz wanted to, believe me. It’s that one thought that always keeps popping back into her head, but Liz just couldn’t seem to bring herself to find a new home. She was accustomed to the rustic feel of the one time industrial building. She loved the people that lived around her. Liz isn’t too fond of change. The loft was a painful memory, but she’d rather have the memory than no memory at all.

Liz came to her heavy metal front door with her keys already out in her hand. It was always wise to have your keys already out. She slid the keys into the deadbolt but before she could give it a turn, the door slid open.

“Liz!” the woman shouted excitedly.

“Maria!” Liz exclaimed.

The blonde spread her arms out with a wide smile on her face and wrapped herself around her older, but shorter sister. “Surprised???” Maria really didn’t need an answer, she could see the shock on Liz’s face. “I guess so,” she grinned.

“Wh—what are you doing here?” Liz giggled.

Maria exhaled sharply as she took the coat and bag from her sister’s hands. “What? A girl can’t visit her sister?”

With narrowed eyes, Liz stared at Maria questionably. “We’ve barely talked to each other in weeks—”

“And who’s fault is that?” Maria wondered with a grin.

Embarrassed, Liz headed straight into the kitchen area and started making herself dinner.

“And that is exactly why I’m here,” Maria went on. “We barely talk on the phone anymore. I never see you.”

“I know,” Liz sighed. “I’m sorry. Things at the hospital are—”

“Busy,” Maria finished. Climbing onto the stool at the bar, she poured herself a drink and took a swig. “It seems that way, Liz, because you’re always there. You’re not Super Doctor, you don’t have to be there every hour of the day. See, the good thing about hospitals is that there are more than one doctor usually there.”

Liz rolled her eyes as she began adding pasta to a pot of boiling water. “You staying for dinner?”

Maria finished the last of her scotch and shook her head. “Can’t. I’m heading back home.” She hopped off the stool and froze mid-step. “Hey! Why don’t you come home too? Have a good, old-fashioned, traditional Valenti Sunday night dinner? I know you miss Dinah’s cooking.”

It was true. The elderly cook at the Valenti mansion was the one of the best chefs this side of the nation and she belonged to the Valenti family. Name it and she’ll make it from scratch. She could make any type of gourmet food to a plain grilled cheese sandwich. It had been nearly seven years since her food touched Liz’s tongue and it was tempting, but Liz shook her head.

“I’m fine with my spaghetti,” she replied.

Instead of continuing to the door like she had planned, Maria moved to the kitchen and hopped onto the island counter. “Liz, come on. Just come home for dinner, I’m sure Dad would love to see you.”

Then it came to Liz. She stopped stirring the pasta and the boiling water and glared at her sister. “Is that why you’re here?” she questioned Maria. “Dad sent you? What? Does he want to make sure that I have enough money? Is that why you’re inviting me to dinner? Because Dad wanted you to ask me?”

Maria slid off the counter and approached her sister. She couldn’t believe how selfish Liz was being. “Don’t you even care about me or Nat?” Maria demanded to know. “You have distanced yourself from the whole family!” she shouted. “Dad’s back and our family needs to be a family again. I want you home, he wants you home.”

Her sister’s words did have an impact on her, but Liz just wasn’t ready to forgive her father. “Maria, we are all old enough to take care of ourselves. I don’t see why you, Alex, and Kyle are still at the mansion.”

“It’s not about money,” Maria replied. “It’s about family.” She watched as Liz went on stirring her pasta and the sauce. Knowing that she was wasting her time, Maria sighed and started to leave. “Whatever,” she said. “Look, you know how to get in touch with us. Make sure you do once in a while.”

Maria was forcing a guilt trip on her sister, but she had to, to make her realize that Liz was being selfish. It was a guilt trip that worked. As soon as the blonde reached lobby of her sister’s building, Maria could hear the hurried footsteps head down the stairs. Before turning around, Maria grinned.

“Change of heart?” she asked.

Liz scoffed and shrugged her shoulders to get her coat on. “I’m not going because of Dad.”

Maria nodded in understanding, happy that her sister was just coming at all. “I took a cab here…do you mind?”

“Come on,” Liz said, tilting her head to one side. “We’ll go together.”

They walked down the street and reached Liz’s car, a green Jeep Wrangler. Maria climbed in shaking her head. Liz noticed her sister’s disapproval and questioned her opinion.

“What is it? Green not your color?”

“No,” Maria said lightly. “No, it’s a nice car, but I still can’t believe you just sold the Mustang like that.”

With a jerk of the car, Liz shifted into first and started driving towards Beverly Hills. “I sold that car years ago, get over it.”

“I just can’t believe you got over it so quickly.”

Liz didn’t reply because she just simply didn’t want to talk about her first car, a car that was much more than just a car to her. The rest of the drive to the Valenti mansion was silent and luckily it wasn’t that much longer of a drive. At the gate, Liz and Maria smiled at Francisco who let them in. Liz drove on in and then through the wonderful garden of brightly colored poppies. Already waiting for them at the end of the driveway was Valenti’s valet and another one of Valenti’s employees.

“Ms. Liz, Ms. Maria,” the old man smiled. “You’re just in time for dinner. Marco here will take the car.”

Maria already threw her door open, but Liz shook her head. “It’s ok, Leo,” she said to the old man. “Marco doesn’t have to, I can do it myself.”

“Liz…” Maria begged, “just let him take the car.”

After losing the staring contest between herself and Maria, Liz reluctantly climbed out of the car and let the young boy drive the car off to the garage. The two women followed the elderly man as he began leading them in and through the house.

“You know how much I hate having people doing things for me,” Liz sighed. She was a modest girl, one who didn’t belong in a life of luxury.

Maria wrapped her arm around her sister and smiled as they walked through the large house. It had been years since Liz walked the halls of the mansion. She noticed on the walls, here and there, the photos that the family took every Christmas. All the Valentis had wide and happy grins on. The family portraits were nothing but memories of fake smiles and exaggerated happiness.

“Liz!” Natalie nearly dropped the bowl of salad onto the table and ran to her big sister.

Smiling happily, Maria cleaned up the leafs of lettuce that jumped out of the bowl and onto the table, and let their baby sister greet Liz.

“Hey, Nat,” the eldest Valenti daughter smiled. “How have you been?”

“Good, good,” Natalie sighed satisfied. “What about you? How have you been, Dr. Parker?”

Liz rolled her eyes as her cheeks began to burn red.

“Parker?”

Liz directed her gaze to the doorway where a man started unbuttoning the few buttons of the coat to his business suit. He took a seat at the head of the table and jumped in his chair to slide it a few inches forward. He grabbed the linen napkin on his plate that was folded into the shape of a swan and snapped his wrists. The swan disappeared and the man placed the regular square napkin on his lap.

“You’re still using her name,” the man said. “She’d be happy.”

“I know, Dad,” Liz nodded.

Valenti and Liz looked at each other with contemplative expressions when Dinah walked in with the main course, roasted duck. Liz went ahead and took the second seat to her father’s right, the seat that belonged to her. Maria sat in the chair across from Liz and Natalie took the third seat on the right.

After Dinah was positive that all her dishes were cooked and presented to perfection, she left the dining room, closing the kitchen door behind her. The three women and their father sat in silence.

Maria gazed around the table. With her hands in her lap, Liz stared at her swan napkin still on her plate. Maria looked at their baby sister. Natalie seemed calm, yet, antsy. Her face was the epitome of tranquility, but Natalie’s hands were nervously fidgeting with the silverware. Maria chuckled to herself because of her sister’s odd behavior, which Maria wasn’t sure if it was because Natalie was happy that the Valenti family dinners were officially reinstated now that Liz was here or because she was awaiting the imminent return of a typical Valenti dinner, with the shouting and slamming of fists.

Finally, Maria glanced at the end of the table, at their father. He sat with his elbows on the table and his fingers entwined with each other. He was staring at Liz, the daughter who had distanced herself because of what he was. His gaze lengthened to the seat next to Liz’s and he chuckled to himself also as he watched Natalie turn her fork over and over. Maria watched her father turn his head in her direction. He did something she rarely saw him do. Valenti gave a pleased smirk.

Three seats were left, the one seat to Valenti’s right, the chair to Valenti’s left, and the last chair was the one at the other end of the table, and that one would remain empty. However, the other two seats were going to be filled by two men walking into the dining room through two different doors, neither of the boys looking at each other in the eye.

Alas! I have a new chapter! Sorry for such a LONG absence. I've made it my New Year's resolution to write more and post as regularly as I can. Thanks for sticking with me. I appreciate it greatly. Take care.

-hoLLy

Accompanying music, "Father to Son" by Phil Collins.


<center>Chapter 12- A King and His Sons


“In a kingdom of lies and crimes, any familial relation between a king and his sons simply does not exist. The only tie between the king and his sons is blood.”
–Unknown. </center>

They walked through two different doors at the same time. Kyle froze at the main entry to the dining room while Alex froze at the kitchen doorway. They briefly looked into each other’s eyes and then lowered their heads as they walked to their respected seats on both sides of their father. The two brothers sat across each other and you’d figure that at least one time during the dinner they would share a glance, but over the years, Kyle and Alex had perfected the art of avoidance. Even despite this being the first family dinner in years, the brothers still knew how to work around contacting each other.

Yet, when they saw Liz, the sister who rarely stepped foot into their childhood home, Kyle and Alex looked each other in the eyes.

“Liz!” they both exclaimed. They then looked at each other once again. Alex bit down and let his eyes wander downward while Kyle bit down as well but glared at his older brother angrily.

Liz gave a little laugh, not noticing the menacing glare that her younger brother gave her older brother, and leaned to her left and kissed Alex on the cheek. Alex received the greeting with a smile and then returned the sentiment, by kissing Liz on the cheek also. After Alex’s turn was done, Kyle stood up and leaned across the table to do the same to his older sister.

“What are you doing here?” Kyle wondered.

Liz sat back down, placing her napkin on her lap. “Maria invited me.”

“I’m glad she did.”

Both of them spoke the same words at the same time, once again. Awkward silence was anticipated after that brief second where the two brothers shared the same thought, and they had glanced at each other for the third time that night. With his head slightly lowered, Valenti looked at both of his sons.

One took after his wife and the other took after him. They didn’t look like brothers and they didn’t act like brothers. Valenti knew that it was because of him. It was just tradition and customary for the oldest son to be favored. It was an age thing, and to Kyle, it was one shitty tradition.

It didn’t make any sense. Kyle spent more time with his father than any of his siblings. It wasn’t quality time or anything, but it was still time. No one ever wanted to hang around the restaurant except Kyle, but Valenti never saw that. He didn’t see a whole lot. He only saw Alex and the son that would take over the empire he had created.

Valenti wasn’t a cold-hearted guy. It may have seemed that way, but the guy loved. He loved his wife, and then his empire. He loved his children, but Il Forza had the type of love he should’ve given to his children. He never intended it to be that way. He wanted to have his own organization because he wanted money. Not for himself. He wanted to be able to support his future family. He wanted to be able to give them everything he never had. The power consumed him. It’s what it does. As a result of all of that, his family was a mess. He had achieved the goal of giving them everything they wanted, but didn’t realize that they weren’t happy until it was too late.

Now that he was out of prison, I truly believe that Valenti wanted to change things. He was going to be more of a father, or attempt to.

The patriarch cleared his throat. “Should we say Grace?”

His children all nodded their heads and the hand holding began. Both Natalie and Maria reached across the table to hold hands and Liz grabbed hold of Natalie’s other hand and one of Alex’s hands. Maria’s free hand held onto one of Kyle’s. At the head of the table, Valenti held his hands out for his sons. Alex stared at the right hand and Kyle stared at the left.

It might be too late for Valenti to try to be a father. Both sons despised him. Alex despised their father because of who he was and what he did, and Kyle despised their father because of his failure to recognize the younger son.

As the seconds seem to drag on, the sisters, who had watched their brothers stare at their father’s hands, all cleared their throats. Finally, both Alex and Kyle shoved their hands onto their father’s.

“Let’s do this,” the younger Valenti urged.

Valenti squeezed both of his sons’ hands and smiled, believing that things were running pretty smoothly. I did say he was smart, but I didn’t say that he wasn’t naïve. “Nat, why don’t you say Grace?”

At the end of the table, the youngest of the Valenti children nodded her head and kept it lowered. Everyone else followed in suit and closed their eyes.

“Bless us, O Lord,” Natalie began, “for these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ our Lord we pray. Amen.”

The second Alex and Kyle heard “Amen,” they let go of their father’s hands. But Natalie wasn’t done.

“I just want to take a moment to thank You,” the teen went on with her head lowered and her eyes closed. “I want to thank You for bringing my family back together. We’re not a perfect family, but we are a family.” After a moment of silence, Natalie finally lifted her head and let go of her sisters’ hands.

The others felt a pang of guilt in their empty stomachs. As Natalie reached for the bowl of salad, she grinned to herself. She knew that the last little addition would hit her family members. They needed to feel that guilt and realize that despite what’s happened in the past, they were all blood.

The food was silently passed around the table and people were having trouble looking at others in the eyes, especially Liz, Kyle, and Alex. Maybe Natalie hit them a little too hard. Maria knew it too and it was time for the mediator to step in.

“So, Nat,” she said cheerily, “how’s school?”

Natalie put on a great, big cheesy smile. “Fantastic. Winter formal is in a few weeks.”

“I’m sure we’ll have another Winter Queen in the family,” Valenti commented.

Natalie would be the third one. Liz won the title during her senior year and Maria during hers. The Valenti boys weren’t left out of that mix. Kyle was homecoming king and during Alex’s senior year, he was crowned prom king, which in Valenti’s eyes seemed fitting.

Natalie hid her blushing cheeks and wanted to move on to something else. “Liz,” she said, “how’s the hospital?”

“Busy,” Liz replied. “The nurses keep on threatening to strike.” She shoved a broccoli into her mouth and nudged Alex with her elbow. “How’s work?”

Alex nearly choked on a piece of steak and tried his best to cough it up. Once he did, he masticated some more and forced it down. “Work…work’s fine,” he replied and by his tone, he insisted that that be all he say about it because the glimpse he caught of their father wasn’t something he wouldn’t want to see.

And what exactly did Alex see? He saw Valenti smile at him. Alex didn’t want their father feeling proud of him and there were a number of reasons why. For instance, Alex didn’t want a relationship with their father. Alex Whitman was the district attorney and his father was a convicted felon. The only reason he was even living at home was because now his father was his responsibility and Alex wasn’t exactly pleased about that. He had just managed to find yet another way to ruin his son’s life.

Alex missed out on a normal childhood, being the son of a well-known mob leader. He never received that type of fatherly love that a lot of other sons received. Actually, that’s how it was for all the Valenti children. Alex was lucky though, because he did receive something from their father. What Alex got were lessons on how to be a crime lord. It was Valenti’s attempt at grooming his successor. Obviously it didn’t work.

But ever since Valenti got out of prison, which once again, wasn’t too long ago, he had taken a genuine liking to and interest in his eldest son. It wasn’t because he was looking for his successor, it’s because he was trying to change, but it was hard for Alex, and the others, to see that. Valenti was nearly thirty years too late.

As Valenti continued to admire his eldest son, his youngest son glared angrily at both of them. While Alex and the others didn’t notice the twinkle in their father’s eyes, Kyle noticed it, but believed that all their father’s love was still being aimed at one focus, this time, Alex.

“Any interesting cases?” Valenti asked Alex.

The son with the brunette hair quickly looked at their father and then shook his head.

“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” Kyle mumbled under his breath.

The girls all froze and exchanged glances of worry and fear. They began preparing for an imminent outburst.

Valenti rested his elbows on the table and looked at Kyle with a puzzled eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Make something up,” Maria whispered to her brother. “Just take it back.”

But Kyle ignored his twin and went on eating.

“Kyle, what did you say?” Valenti wondered.

He remained silent.

“Hey!” Natalie smiled, making an attempt at changing the subject. “So…what about those…Lakers?”

Valenti held up his hand to his youngest daughter, silencing her. “Kyle, answer me.”

Kyle chuckled as he set down his fork. He kept his head lowered for a moment and finally looked at his father. “I said, he doesn’t want to talk to you.”

The girls dropped their heads and seemingly stared at their plates, but secretly glanced out of corners of their eyes at the head of the table.

“What’s wrong with you, huh?” Valenti questioned. “Why are you being rude?”

“He’s not wrong,” Alex commented.

Maria threw her foot forward, kicking Alex in the shin. A scowl appeared on his face as his knee reflexively hit the table.

“Don’t make excuses for your brother,” Valenti said to Alex. “He needs to start showing you respect.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Kyle exclaimed. He raised his voice.

Now Maria was throwing her elbow to her side and at her twin. “Kyle, shut up,” she urged.

“No, Dad’s defending Alex,” Kyle laughed. “Don’t you get it?” he said to their father. “He doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

“Kyle!” Natalie scolded.

But he had snapped. The weight was just too much. It was overbearing and it finally broke the camel’s back. Kyle was sick and tired of being ignored and neglected. He stood up and looked down at Valenti.

“I have never once betrayed you!” he shouted at his father, who willingly took the lecturing. “Yet, you give all your love to the son who cast away our name in hate and spite.”

Like being slapped across the face, both Liz and Maria turned their heads away. They too had changed their surname and felt the guilt of doing so.

“He doesn’t want to be your son!” Kyle continued to shout. “But your arms are always open for him! Sure, he got you out of prison, but he sent you there in the first place for Christ sakes!”

Valenti stared straight ahead, now. He had placed his elbows on the table and let his mouth rest where his hands met as he let his son continue his outburst.

Kyle looked down at his father, piercing him with fiery stares. “While you were gone, I looked after this family, I dropped everything to take care of your damn restaurant, your investments, and your precious Il Forza, and NOT ONCE have you said ‘Thank you’ or ‘I’m proud of you’ or ‘I love you’!”

With that, Kyle threw down his napkin and marched out of the dining room.

A/N: Just hold on for a few more chapters and you will have your M/L meeting!

Accompanying music, "Brothers and Sisters" by Coldplay.


<center>Chapter 13- Brothers and Sisters

Part One: The Valentis</center>

<center>“I don’t believe the accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage. Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at.”
–Maya Angelou</center>

“Why the hell did you have to go and do that?” Maria shouted after her brother.

But Kyle barely looked over his shoulder and continued marching away from the dining room. He knew that his twin sister was catching up behind him and he knew that the rest of his siblings would soon follow.

“James Kyle Valenti Jr.!” Maria shouted. “I’m talking to you!”

He finally whipped around, forcing Maria to come to a sudden halt. “Do NOT call me that,” he said, forcing his finger at his sister.

“Fine!” Maria spat back. “Do you prefer ‘jackass’? That name does seem fitting.”

“Oh, shut up,” Kyle whined as turned his back.

“Don’t talk to her like that.”

It was the only other masculine voice of the group. It had to be dear older brother, Kyle thought. He’s coming to the rescue.

Without turning around, Kyle responded. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he said, continuing to walk into the open study.

“No, but you were talking to her,” Alex argued. “And you were talking to her like shit. You will not treat her like that.”

Kyle dropped into the large leather executive charge that sat behind a rather large wooden desk with meticulous hand carvings. He rested his feet on the desk, tilted back in the chair, and folded his hands on his stomach. “Fine,” he nodded. “Maria, I’m sorry.”

The only blonde daughter of Valenti walked into the circular room that was the center of the mansion. When family dinners were a regular event in the Valenti household, the study was usually the place where all the children gathered. Seems the tradition carried on as all the children found themselves in the study.

Before, when Alex and Kyle got along because Valenti’s love didn’t matter so much to Kyle, the brothers and sisters would spend some quality time with each other. Alex and Kyle would play pool while Maria and Liz would argue over Natalie’s homework and which one of their answers were right, when they were both usually wrong. I basically mean they would all just hang out like normal brothers and sisters. There was the good ol’ fashion brother-sister bickering and all of that, but nothing to the extent of present day.

I was telling you earlier how Liz didn’t even live at the Valenti mansion anymore. She barely spoke to her siblings. It’s not like it was her intent to push herself away from her family, but it just happened. Her siblings were more like acquaintances. That’s how you could compare the relationship.

It wasn’t any better for Alex. He lived at the house, sure, but in the pool house out back. It served as a guest house and was equipped with a stocked kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom. Alex never had to leave the place and he rarely did.

The family was torn apart.

“You didn’t have to yell at him like that,” Maria sighed. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and frowned.

“Why the hell do you care so much about him?” Kyle questioned.

Maria stared off to the side. She could recognize her father and his effort to bring the family back together. She wanted to help because family was the only thing in her life that wasn’t perfect. She worked at a middle school as the music teacher and she loved the kids, and she knew when her job started and ended, unlike her older sister. Maria also had Billy Darden, her college sweetheart, who loved her more than anything, and she was so close to falling in love with him, she was almost there. Life, for her, was falling into place, but her family wasn’t.

“Honestly,” Kyle continued. “I’d like to know why you care so much. I cared a helluva lot, and where did that get me? No where. He only cares about his golden boy over there.” Still relaxing in the chair, Kyle used his chin to point across the room at the oldest Valenti child.

“Get over yourself,” Alex mumbled. He was sick and tired of his brother’s attitude. He had done nothing. Alex never asked for all of Valenti’s attention. As far as he was concerned, he was just their father’s attorney, and that was it. But that was the problem. Alex needed to recognize that he was more than a lawyer. He was a son that needed to communicate with his father and siblings.

“Everyone just shut up,” Natalie ordered. “Stop talking back. Learn to keep your mouths shut.”

The brothers glared at each other angrily for a brief moment and then stared away. They remained on opposite sides of the room. Kyle remained relaxed and intimidating in the leather chair while Alex stood at one of the bookshelf walls, glancing at nearly every book on all of the shelves. He let his hand touch the top of the spine of each book and tilt it back. He didn’t even look at the cover. He was just bored and didn’t know what to do. So he tilted one book back, let it fall back into place, and then move onto the next book, which he tilted also. Thing was, the study also served as a library and it didn’t appear as if Alex was going to stop his nervous little quirk.

Meanwhile, the girls lounged in the center of the room where three couches lay. Maria was studying her brothers and Natalie was lazily lying across the sofa. Liz…she didn’t say much or do much. She just sat at one end of one of the couches and leaned against the armrest with her arm on it. She propped her head up against her open palm. Bored out of her mind? I honestly don’t know. I couldn’t really tell.

Finally, Liz left her hand just standing in mid-air as she moved her head away. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to come,” she sighed.

And she could feel her siblings’ glares point at her.

“Why exactly?” Kyle wondered.

“Because I don’t need this,” Liz explained as she stood up. “I do not need all this crap, all this drama, in my life.”

“You mean you don’t need us.”

Liz quickly turned to her younger sister and stared at Natalie in disbelief. “No,” Liz insisted. “That is not what I meant.”

“She’s totally right,” Alex argued. “When was the last time we all saw you, Liz? Dad’s sentencing, a little more than a year ago?”

Kyle quickly launched himself from leather chair. “Oh, you’re one to talk! Who ran away when Mom died?”

“I’m back now, aren’t I?!” Alex shouted.

“No one asked you to come back!”

“This is what I meant!” Liz cried out over her brothers’ voice. “Drama! This shit between you and you.” She pointed her finger fiercely at Kyle and Alex. “All of us hating Dad! I don’t need this! I don’t want this!”

Natalie scoffed. “You don’t want us.”

“That is the farthest thing from the truth! I need you guys, but I don’t want this drama.”

Alex chuckled to himself and shook his head. “You can’t have either, Liz. They come as a pair. The Valenti family and drama. They go hand-in-hand.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Liz tried to insist.

“How exactly do you think you can solve our family problems?” Kyle questioned. “They all stem from Dad. Are you willing to sit down with him and tell him how he screwed up? Might be a little hard considering you won’t talk to him and he doesn’t know you anymore. I mean, why do you care anyway? You haven’t been a part of this family for years.”

Liz glared at her brother with hurt and anger. She didn’t know that it was possible to feel the two emotions at the same time, much less stare at anyone with both of them, but she did. “Screw you, Kyle.” She snatched her purse off the couch and started marching out of the study and to the stairs.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Maria said to her twin. “She’s your sister, jerk.”

Kyle bit down hard and his jaw muscles tensed up as he brought his eyes down to the floor in shame. He knew he had gone too far, but he couldn’t just run after his older sister and apologize. Kyle didn’t know how. So he stood with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground.

And Natalie continued to sit on one of the couches, with her legs crossed, and her arms crossed in front of her chest. She stared off to the side feeling just as guilty. As did, Alex.

I’m telling you, they were one messed up family.

Maria was the only one who managed to get her feet moving. She quickly turned around and chased after her sister. “Liz!” she shouted. She bolted down the stairs, nearly sliding down a few. “Liz, wait!”

Liz had reached the door and pulled it open when Maria came running up behind her and slamming the door before she could open it any farther.

“I’m sorry,” Maria began to apologize.

With tears in her eyes, Liz looked at the stairs. “Why did you bring me here, Maria?”

Feeling bad for bringing her to Hellmouth in the first place, Maria dried Liz’s tears for her and wrapped her arms around her older sister. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know they were going to act like that.” Maria ran her hand up and down Liz’s back vigorously. “Kyle’s a prick, you know that. Alex is just pissed that he’s doing pro bono work for Dad. And Natalie’s a teenager, no more of an explanation needed,” Maria grinned.

Liz pulled away, wiping her tears. “Don’t make excuses for them,” she said.

“I know, sweetie, they screwed up. I’m sorry.” Maria placed her hands on her sister’s upper arms and let them run up and down to comfort Liz. She needed to make up for the horrible night. “Look,” she began. “There’s this club opening this weekend. It’s the talk of the town. Red carpet opening and everything. Just you and me. What do you say?”

Maria stared at her silent sister.

“I don’t want to lose you, Liz,” Maria pleaded.

“What’s the name of this club?”

Maria smiled giddily and clapped her hands in approval. “Joplin.”

Accompanying music, "Brothers and Sisters" by Coldplay.


<center>Chapter 13- Brothers and Sisters

Part Two: The Evanses</center>

“Max, I think I want to tell Jesse.”

The tall brunette continued to lean against the white mantle with a glass of bourbon in his hand. He stared at the fire intensely. The Antarians were a very clandestine organization. They were an infamous name in organized crime and the law, and they were so well-known because of their amazing anonymity. No one knew who the members of the Antarians were and no one knew who the leader was, and why? Because only a few scarce people knew and they weren’t going to talk.

Max exhaled heavily and pushed himself away from the mantle. He took a swig from his glass. “Isabel, no,” he ordered. “You know the rule: No one knows. People already have their suspicions. Why feed those suspicions?”

Isabel slouched on the couch and shook her head. That’s how her life was run. She had to run nearly everything by her brother—her younger brother—and his word was always final. There was never a point in arguing. It was just a waste of time and Isabel never bothered anyway. She didn’t want to defy her brother. He gave her everything she had today.

“How was work?” Isabel asked, changing the subject.

Max shrugged as he took a seat in what was called the Martini Cigar chair, a piece from the Bogart Furniture Collection. If he could, Max would live in the chair, and he sunk in, slouching, almost lying in the chair and ottoman. “Work’s a little hectic,” he sighed. “For some reason, Michael’s pushing a Tabasco inspired pasta.”

“Griffin nearly chased me out of the kitchen with a meat cleaver,” Michael laughed.

Max looked over his shoulder as Michael came walking in from the garden door. “Tending to your roses?” he grinned.

<center>*~*</center>
Thomas could hear the fire popping in the background and followed the sound. He still remembered this house, his home. When he came to white sliding doors, Thomas took a deep breath before sliding them open, and when he finally would, Max would be standing at the fireplace, leaning on the mantle, staring at the crackling fire.

He used his hands to part the doors and he did so slowly. I don’t think Thomas was entirely ready to take on his family after years of not seeing him, but it was too late. He had already open the doors and he wasn’t about to close them.

“Tending to your roses?” he heard someone say.

It sounded like Max, but that couldn’t be, because his brother never joked. He had to discover who it was. So he pulled the doors apart a little faster and was frightened by his sister’s voice.

“Loretta, is that you? I wanted that coffee half an hour a—”

But when the tall blonde turned around, it wasn’t the maid standing at the doorway. It was someone who she hadn’t seen in years.

“Oh my God!” she shrieked.

Thomas stood in the middle of the doorway with his cap under his arm, standing like a well-groomed military student. Well, almost well-groomed, but we’ll worry about that in a second.

Max's bourbon nearly jumped out of his glass when he saw the man now standing in the doorway, but that wasn’t no man, it was his brother. “Will?” Max said with his head tilted. He placed his glass on the coffee table and stood up. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m…I’m on leave,” the young man lied with a grin.

Isabel rushed over to her baby brother and wrapped her arms around his neck, practically strangling him. “Oh, my God! I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Holy shit!” Michael laughed. “It really is you. You’re huge as f—”

“Michael…” Max urged. He hated Michael’s cursing.

Thomas laughed. “Are you calling me fat?” he asked as if he was offended. “I’ve been away for seven years. I’ve been doing some growing.”

“I know,” Michael laughed, happy and overjoyed that who he considered his little brother was back home. “But damn, last time we saw you…What three years ago? You were short as fu—”

“Michael! Seriously,” Max sighed.

Again, the boy who was maybe an inch or two shorter than Max blushed and burned red. “Things change after you’ve been gone for a while.”

“Like you’re hair?” Max wondered. “How the hell did they let you grow out that long?”

Thomas pulled his head back quickly as his brother began to reach for his head. Isabel watched and studied her brother’s reaction and silence. She was awfully observant and she managed to figure out what was up.

“You got kicked out,” she realized.

Max and Michael’s head turned to the tall blonde. “What are you talking about?” both of them questioned.

Thomas bit down hard and looked away and kept on looking away. When he continued to remain silent, Max came to the conclusion that their sister was right. He coolly stuck his hands in the pockets of his slacks and started to walk away.

“The hair goes,” he ordered.

Thomas scoffed out a laugh and looked to Isabel and Michael, but they just glanced at each other and turned to walk back to where they were standing earlier. Thomas watched Max as his brother walked to the bar to pour himself another drink.

“You’re shitting me,” he scoffed.

Max brought the drink up to his lips and took a sip. “Watch your mouth,” he replied. “Because I shit you not, the hair goes.”

Thomas laughed in disbelief. “I am not cutting my hair. You’re crazy.”

Will got kicked out of military school and he was standing up to his brother about his hair? No, Max wasn’t going to allow it. Apparently, military school didn’t teach Will the discipline Max hoped he would learn.

“Either you cut the hair, Will,” Max began to propose, “or it’s back to military school.”

Thomas ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe you’re telling me to cut my hair.”

Isabel seemed to have ignored that fact that her brothers were fighting and changed the subject. “Just how long have you been out of military school?” she wondered. “It’s pretty long.”

“Um…” Thomas stood uneasily in the middle of the study.

“Jesus!” Max cried out. “What the hell is your problem? I sent you to military school to get your shit together.” I know I said that Max didn’t like Michael’s dirty mouth, but I didn’t say that Max wasn’t a potty mouth himself. But granted, he only cursed when he was angry, and he was pretty angry.

Thomas laughed. “No, you sent me away because you didn’t want to take care of me.”

Michael nervously hid behind his scotch while Isabel stared at her younger and felt the hurt of his belief.

“Thomas, it’s not like we wanted to send you away,” she explained. “We couldn’t take care of you.”

Seven years. Seven years since he’s been home and since he’s spent time with his brother and sister and Michael. He was back home and that’s what mattered. He wasn’t about to risk going back to the hell hole that was military school.

“Fine,” he gave in. “I’ll cut my hair, but not that high-and-tight shit.” Thomas referred to the military hair cut that left only very short hair at the top of his head and absolutely no hair on the sides and back. It wasn’t a very good hairstyle. Thomas’s ears were always cold.

“Good,” Max nodded. “I’ll make sure to tell Ivan to open the barber shop and give you a haircut.”

Thomas nodded and took a seat across from his sister. No one really spoke aloud for a while. Max and Michael were standing by the fireplace discussing business and Isabel was quietly reading a stack of papers. No doubt they were case papers. Thomas sat on the couch, staring around the room that barely changed. It was just like old times again, except for the fact that there was one other person missing.

“Where’s Tess?” he wondered.

Isabel slid her glasses off and shook her head with short, quick turns as Max and Michael looked their way.

“What?” Thomas wondered.

“No, it’s ok, Isabel.” Max took another swig. He strode over to the couches and took a seat on the one his brother sat at. “If you must know, you’re looking at one stupid, stupid man.”

“That much I knew,” Thomas laughed.

Michael walked over and pushed a fist against Thomas’s back. “This is kind of serious.”

“What?” Thomas wondered. “What happened?”

“Tess cheated on me,” Max simply said, but it actually wasn’t so simple. He said it with an air of arrogance as if he didn’t care, but when people say it like that, you know that they really did care. “With Nicholas Crawford.”

“That tiny little prick?” Thomas laughed.

Michael shook his head and waved a finger. “Not so tiny anymore,” he said. “Little Nicky broke away from Khivar and started his own crew.”

“They call themselves the Skins,” Max added.

“Skins?” Thomas laughed. “What the hell kind of name is that? Like snake skin? Fried chicken skins?”

Both Michael and Max shrugged their shoulders.

“Listen, I’m sorry about Tess,” Thomas apologized. “What’s happening?”

Max pointed his chin towards Isabel and the papers that she was still holding. “Divorce,” he said. “Isabel’s looking over everything. We’re trying to go for a clean break.”

“But knowing Tess, she wants more,” Thomas realized.

Max nodded in confirmation and downed the rest of his bourbon. It was a stressful subject for him. “What I offered her in the pre-nup is enough to double her fortune, but she’s being a greedy bi—”

“Max…” Isabel scolded.

Tess fucked up pretty bad and Isabel knew that, but she also knew that Max really loved his ex-wife. Isabel had to stop her brother before he let his anger get the best of him. If that happened, things could go hell.

“Max?”

Everyone’s heads turned to the doors and Max waved the stranger in as he stood up. “Come in, Gunner,” he said.

The tall man in the business suit walked all the way into the room and cleared his throat. Next to Michael, he was Max's most trusted “business partner”. No one really knew if Gunner was his first or last name or a rank. He wasn’t much of a talker either. All he ever did was report what he knew. “The car’s ready for you,” he said.

“Thank you,” Max replied. He started walking towards Gunner and Michael followed.

The room emptying out quickly, Thomas jumped to his feet. “Where are you guys going?”

“Ronin,” Michael answered for Max.

“Why?”

Max continued walking, glancing over his shoulder for a second. “We’ve got business to take care of.”

“Take me with you,” Thomas begged.

Both of the men froze at the door. Michael turned to Max, but Max quickly shook his head and turned to Thomas. “No, you stay away from Ronin.”

He was still being treated like a little kid. “Why?”

“Just stay away,” Max ordered.

Thomas looked at his sister who smirked sympathetically and nodded her head. With that, Thomas dropped back onto the couch, slouching so much that his ass was hanging off the couch. Max and Michael left the room.

As Max and Michael followed Gunner walk through the large foyer and towards the door, Max realized how he had treated Will. “I’ll be right back,” he said to Michael, and he jogged back to the study and poked his head through the door. “Hey, Will?”

Thomas quickly jumped up and turned around. “Yeah?”

Max looked down for a moment as he hung onto the doorframe. “Will, I’m glad you’re back.”

Thomas smiled.

Hey wonderful readers,

Thanks for all the comments! You guys keep me writing. I wanted to go ahead and post this chapter because my stupid laptop's being a pain in the arse and I've got to turn it in to get fixed. I don't know when I'll have a new part written and posted. Hopefully my computer won't be away too long. Thanks again everyone!

-hoLLy

P.S. I know you're all waiting for the Max and Liz meeting, but please be patient. It'll be soon. Until then, I hope a scene in this chapter will satisfy you just enough.

Accompanying music, "King's Highway" by Nelly.


<center>BOOK IV—Body & Soul

Chapter 14- Cuore vs. Ronin


“Rivalry is the life of the trade, and the death of the trader.”
–Elbert Hubbard</center>

He was on the clouds again. The sky was so blue, he felt as if he were in a painting. The clouds under his feet were soft, yet solid. They held his weight and remained firm, but silky, as he walked across them. It was bright out and you’d expect it to be blinding, being in the sky and all, but it wasn’t. The light was subtle and soft, but still bright. He peered over the edge and, although being up this high would have nearly made his heart swell to the point of bursting, it didn’t faze him this time or any other time he was on the clouds. He hated heights, but loved being here.

Max looked all around him, but all he was looking at was vast emptiness. Nothing else was around him, just miles and miles of clouds as far as the eye could see. So he walked for a while. His feet began to get tired as his search was becoming pointless. There was no one in sight…until he turned around.

And there she was. Her beautiful dark brown hair stopped just below her shoulders and the dark caramel highlights in her hair warmed his heart. Her beautiful brown eyes were wide and enthralling. Her lips so kissable and beyond perfection. She was beyond perfection. She just had to be an angel.

“Who are you?” Max asked with an eagerness to know in his voice.

But the woman just smirked and blushed, adding color to her beautiful skin tone. The two of them remained feet apart, but Max stepped forward, decreasing the distance between them.

“Who are you?” he asked again.

The woman took a step back and continued to smile. She knew full well that she was toying with him to the point of torture almost. She was fully aware of the spell she had over him, but he had no idea of the spell he had over her. She loved the way his eyes were a soft yellow with tiny streaks of hazel. His ears made her smile. The way he carried himself, the way he was, attracted her so much, she was holding back from giggling like a little girl.

Max finished studying the step that the woman took back and gave a little chuckle and shook his head. “What are you doing?”

She stepped back once more. “You’re a great man, Max,” she said.

Max smirked but rubbed his palm over his mouth to hide his coyness. “Um…Thank you.” He took a step forward.

This time, the woman didn’t step back. “You’re a great man,” she repeated. “You have everything you could ever want, but why do what you do?”

Now Max was no longer blushing, but squinting in confusion at the woman. “Wh—what are you talking about?”

Who was this woman?

“You endanger the lives of others,” the woman continued on. “You have the power to stop it all, why don’t you?”

Though she never answered his question, Max knew what she was talking about and now they were in a full-on conversation about the topic. “It’s not as easy as you think,” Max told the woman as he took another step forward. “I’m trying to change my business and make things right.”

The woman shook her head in disapproval. “You can’t just change the business. You said it yourself, it’s not as easy as you think.”

“I’m trying,” Max insisted. He walked forward and now they were just a single foot apart, and that single foot never seemed so long. “Who are you?” Max asked one final time. He started shaking his head in disbelief. She wasn’t real. She couldn’t be real. She was just so perfect.

The woman grabbed onto the lapels of Max's suit and pulled him down towards her. As they moved closer and closer, the two of them locked their eyes onto the other’s lips, waiting and wanting them to come together.

“You son of a bitch!”

And poof. Everything disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Max gritted his teeth, kept his eyes closed, but closed them even tighter, and inhaled sharply. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” he cried out. He woke up, threw his eyes open, and slapped his hands down on his bed.

“Where is he, Larek?”

Max rolled his eyes as he sat up in bed. Of course. He was finally experiencing actual joy and she just had to ruin it.

“He’s still sleeping, Tess,” Larek urged. “Wait! You can’t just walk in! This isn’t your house anymore!”

Just as he expected, the double doors to his bedroom were thrown open and walking through them was a petite blonde, waving papers in the air.

“Morning, Tess,” Max smiled.

“What the hell is this?” Tess threw the papers at Max's chest and then placed her hands angrily on her hips as her soon-to-be ex-husband began to fumble with the papers. “Now I’m getting nothing?!”

Max gave a little chuckle as he climbed out of bed. He shook his head and tossed the papers on the table. “It’s either nothing at all or what I’m giving you in the pre-nup, which, by the way, if you don’t remember, both of us signed.”

“It’s not enough!” Tess argued.

“Are you really serious?” Max laughed. “Fifty million, two cars, and the penthouse are not enough? That’s bullshit.”

Tess invested so much into her husband and his business. She deserved more than chump change. “I should be entitled to half of the assets.”

“We signed a pre-nup!” Max shouted at her. “You know, you’re lucky I didn’t include an infidelity clause.”

Tess watched as her husband walked the room. If she wasn’t going to get his money, at least she was going to get the best of him. She knew him too well and she knew exactly which buttons to push. “If you did,” she began to say, “then the pre-nup would be void on both of our accounts, wouldn’t it?”

Max gritted his teeth just as she expected. “What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded to know.

Tess took a seat in one of the lounge chairs in the room and leisurely crossed her legs. “Well, you and I both know that my affair with Nicholas was just a red herring for you to get out of this marriage. You slept around as much as I did. You just simply wanted a divorce.”

Max loved her. He treated her like a queen. So never did he sleep around, and how she could think that? Max had no idea, but it hurt like hell that she did. If there was one person who wanted out of the marriage, it was Tess. Max had known that for a while, but stayed married to her hoping that maybe she would change her mind and love Max again. That was until he found out about Nicholas. After that, all bets were off and Max was filing for divorce.

“Get out, Tess,” Max ordered.

Just as he was about to call for his a few of his henchmen, Michael had walked in. Despite the current situation, Max smiled as his best friend walked in. Michael walked with his head held high and a kick in his step.

“What is it?” Max wondered.

Michael grinned. “You will not believe who is about to eat in the restaurant.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Max saw Tess lean forward in her chair with interest in the conversation, but ignored her. “Who?” he asked.

The grin on Michael’s face grew wider. “James Valenti.”

And that grin on Michael’s face must have been contagious because on Max's face grew a grin similar to it. “Jimmy Valentine,” he laughed. “Well isn’t that something? I want to see this. Tell Nicholai to get the car ready. Jimmy Valentine eating in his arch rival’s restaurant—my restaurant.”

<center>*~*</center>

“What the hell are we doing here, Jimmy?”

Valenti followed right behind Giovanni as he climbed out of the limo. Jimmy thought that this would be the last place he would ever dine. He would shoot himself in the leg before eating at Ronin, but it looked like the latter was coming first. “Alex picked the restaurant,” he said to his best friend.

The middle-aged man with the streaks of gray running through his black hair shook his head in complete disapproval and confusion. He was brought along for the ride. “Well what am I doing here?” he demanded to know.

The two of them had been walking pretty quickly, but when Giovanni asked that question and it processed through his head, Valenti came to a sudden stop and used his hands to stop his partner. “I’m going to tell it to you fast,” he said. “I’m out of prison because of a deal Alex made.”

Giovanni worriedly looked from left to right. “Go on,” he urged.

Valenti scanned his surroundings also and then leaned in towards Gio. “The deal was: I stay out of prison if I work for the FBI.”

“You’re shitting me, Jimmy!” Gio laughed. “You as an informant? People are going to find out. Bad people, Jimmy. They’re going to kill you.”

“Lower your voice,” Valenti growled. He pulled Gio back towards the limo, away from all the people. “Look, it’s an undercover thing. As far as the world is concerned, I was acquitted and set straight. I run my restaurant and that’s it. You understand me?”

Giovanni sighed heavily and nervously rubbed his forehead. “So we’re back in business,” he realized.

Valenti nodded in agreement as he watched his best friend begin to apprehensively ponder over the situation. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind. Gio was always there for him. They were brothers; loyal to each other until death. Valenti waited for Gio to get his act back together, but after a moment or two, it didn’t look like it was going to happen.

“It’ll be ok,” Valenti promised. “We’ll have total immunity. The FBI is going to give us all the information we need. They want us to put other organizations out of business.”

He heard the words that were coming out of his boss’s mouth, but Gio just wasn’t absorbing everything. When Jimmy was sent away, Giovanni was in charge of Il Forza, but he had let it slowly fall into a deep slumber. Gio refused to do business with other organizations and Il Forza had disappeared. He had been happy being manager of Cuore. It was a white-collar job that was simple.

Gio finally shook his head. “No,” he refused. “Jimmy, this isn’t like the Prohibition era. We’re old-timers. Washed-up. What kids are doing nowadays is way too advanced. It’s a new type of league. How the hell are we going to keep up?”

Valenti gave a little smile and placed his hands firmly on his best friend’s shoulders. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

Gio stared into the eyes of his brother, the man who put him where he is today, and realized one thing: “I don’t have choice, do I?”

Full of regret, Valenti shook his head. He put on a smile and wrapped his arms around his best friend. They walked side-by-side all the way into the restaurant Jimmy never thought he’d set foot in.

His restaurant, Cuore, had been the restaurant to dine at. Every lunch, some recognizable face would take a seat in one of the chairs in the outside dining patio. Every dinner, there was a famous name in the reservation books. Cuore was the place to be. The food was excellent and the service was superb. For years, it reigned as one of the best restaurants in Hollywood, but then Ronin opened. Even before that restaurant had premiered, there had been word buzzing around that it was going to be the next big thing, the next Cuore. It was. For Jimmy, business slowed, not a whole lot, but it slowed. People were raving about Ronin. It was absolutely fantastic. For a long while, the restaurant was booked up for a year. It had driven Valenti mad. He was no longer at the top, but he knew who was, and he made that man his enemy.

“How can I help you?” the maitre’d asked.

Valenti leaned forward and scanned the dining area. “We’re supposed to meet someone,” he said. “We’re actually late and they should be here right now.”

The maitre’d nodded and started scanning the books. “Name?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.”

The man behind the podium lifted his head and let one eyebrow sink and the other rise. “You’re not sure?” he said with a little neck action. “Well, I’m going to have to ask you to step aside until you figure it out.”

Valenti stared at this punk, wondering how someone could really act like that. Never before had anyone talked to him the way this twenty-something did. Taking a few steps back, Jimmy continued to glare at the Ronin employee until Alex came jogging out of the dining room.

“You’re finally here,” Alex breathed out.

With a smile emerging on his face, Valenti nodded. “Yeah, sorry, son,” he replied. “We had some things to take care of at the restaurant.”

Alex nodded and started urging his father and the man who was considered an uncle towards the dining room. They were fifteen minutes late and it was no picnic waiting for them, especially considering who he had to wait with. Alex led the two older men towards the back of the restaurant, all the way in the corner, to a booth where one man was sitting and waiting. The man wore a grayish suit, white dress shirt, and a maroon tie with a horrible pattern. As they walked towards the stranger, Valenti pulled his head back and looked past his nose to study the man further. The man had a strong chin, sharp nose, and piercing blue eyes. He slicked his black hair from left to right with so much product that I bet if you flicked his hair, it’d spring back into place.

Once the three men reached the table, the stranger stood up and nodded his head. “The infamous Jimmy Valentine,” he smiled.

Valenti stared at the hand outstretched to him.

Alex pointed to the gesture and introduced the man. “Valenti,” he said, to be professional. “Meet Agent Pierce, head of the FBI’s Organized Crime Program.”

Jimmy nervously cleared his throat, trying his best to dislodge the lump in his throat. He placed his hand in Pierce’s and squeezed tight. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Pierce replied. There was a smug arrogance to his delivery. “Please, have a seat.”

Valenti and Gio exchanged worried glances as they sat down. Were they in too deep? Was it too late to back now? To answer both questions: Yes.

Maybe Giovanni was right. Valenti was getting old. This was a new game they were playing. He had been out of the business for, not even, a couple of years, but it had evolved so quickly. What could Valenti do to put other organizations out of business? Obviously, he didn’t think this thing through.

“Should we get down to business?” Pierce wonder.

Both men nodded and once they did, Alex did the same. “Although I want to avoid the movie cliché,” he sighed, “this meeting never took place.”

Hearing those words, Valenti felt at home again. He gave a little smile and continued to follow along.

“You do not know Agent Pierce,” Alex went on. He spoke so secretively and seriously, like he was meant for this type of business. “You do not know that he is the head of the OCP.”

Gio and Valenti nodded in agreement to those terms.

“Good,” Pierce smiled. He lifted up his menu and went on browsing. “Chief of Police Hanson is fully aware of your involvement. Like you have been informed, you have complete immunity as long as you cooperate.”

Again, Gio and Valenti looked to each other and picked up their menus and began to skim. “How exactly is this going to work out?” Gio wondered.

Pierce turned a page in the menu, not once looking up at any of the men. “We’ve been able to intercept deals, transactions, that sort of thing,” he began to explain. “We’ll inform you of both parties and you’ll do your work.”

From behind his menu, Valenti cleared his throat as quietly as he could. He prayed that he wasn’t sweating as much as he thought he was. “You say ‘work’. What do you mean?” He was actually afraid to hear the answer.

“I mean, do whatever it is necessary to destruct those deals.” Pierce spoke firmly as if drilling the instructions into the minds of his newest recruits. “You will not be held responsible for any and all causalities.”

Alex let his menu drop and leaned towards Pierce. “I thought you said we were going to be clean about this.”

Still not taking his eyes off the menu, Pierce grinned. “There’s always a price to pay for freedom.”

Alex let his eyes drop. This was the thing he hated about his father’s business, the ruthlessness of it all. Pierce was right, it was a price, but it was a price Alex didn’t want to have to pay.

Valenti watched as his son came to that realization and Valenti came to it too, and he didn’t want to pay that price. It was one of the things he had realized when he was locked up; all those men he had ordered killed, the lives he had taken away, wasn’t worth throwing away his family.

Pierce had finally looked up from his menu when there had been no reply. He looked at the regretful expression on Whitman’s face and the same one on Valenti’s face. Did he just make a mistake? This was supposed to be Jimmy Valentine, the most merciless, domineering mob boss in the West. Did he turn soft?

Pierce placed the menu down on the table and ironed his tie with the palm of his hand. “Well, I see,” he said. “I guess I’m wasting my time. I’ll inform Federal Prosecutor Ramirez of your decision. He’ll get everything in order to send Mr. Valenti back to Eagle Rock.”

Alex let his eyes dart from side to side. There were two choices he could make: Keep his father out of prison and let him continue the destruction of human life, or let his father get sent back to prison and receive the consequences from his sisters. Maria and Natalie would kill him.

“We’ll do it,” Alex said. “‘Whatever it is necessary’.”

Pierce smiled with delight. “Good. Shall we order?”

The three men sitting around him nodded and looked back to their menus, but Gio, Valenti, and Alex weren’t searching for something to eat. They weren’t reading their menus at all, really. They were just thinking about how much shit they were in.

“Oh,” Pierce sounded. “I forgot to inform you of your main objective.”

Was there more dung to add to the pile?

Pierce closed his menu, placed it flat down, and crossed his arms on the table. “Mr. Valenti, I need you to discover the true identity of the notorious Basil Deo and crush him to pieces.” He smiled and took a sip of his water.

Before Valenti could reply, two strangers walked up to the table.

“Well I just had to see it for myself,” one of the strangers smiled. “James Valenti is sitting in my restaurant.”

Valenti had completely forgotten where he was until that stranger came up to the table. He was in Ronin and standing beside him was its owner. Laughing to himself in disbelief, Valenti got out of his chair and looked up at the tall young man. “Max Evans,” he smirked. “I do believe this is the first time we’ve met.”

Max gave a little chuckle and shook the man’s hand. “It is a pleasure.”

The two men continued to smile, letting their first impressions of each other roam through their minds. Max knew exactly who James Valenti was and he knew that Valenti was more than just a restaurateur. Max knew he was Jimmy Valentine, head of Il Forza, and Jimmy was no acquaintance, nor a friend. Jimmy Valentine was Max's enemy, in both the business world and the crime world, even if Jimmy didn’t know about the latter.

As far as Valenti knew, Max Evans was the big shot owner of Ronin. He was a womanizer, playboy, and all-around arrogant bastard. He was just a two-bit punk who was trying to put him out of business. Valenti’s blood was boiling as Max Evans continued to smile with his charming grin.

“Well,” Max nodded. “I’ll let you all get back to your lunch. In fact, don’t worry about these menus.” He reached for all four menus and tucked them under his arm. “I’ll have the chef fix up something special.”

Valenti stared at the young man skeptically and took a seat. “Thank you.”

And the rest of the men nodded gratefully.

Max bowed slightly and turned around, heading for the kitchen. Michael quickly followed behind his best friend, trying his best to catch up with him. “You know something, don’t you?” he laughed.

Max gave a grin and kept his chin up and focused his eyes straight ahead. “That I do.”

Michael slapped Max on the back and chuckled once more. “Oh, come on, spill.”

At the doorway, Max stopped and turned to Michael. “The game just got interesting,” he smiled, playfully forcing a fist into Michael’s chest. “The man in the gray suit, black hair? That was the Head of the OCP. Valenti’s back in business.”

Michael shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means we’ve got the chance to take down Jimmy Valentine once and for all. In the process, we will take down every organization and make a mockery of the FBI.”

Could Michael love Max any more? Now this was what he was waiting for. He lived for this kind of thing. This was going to be a ride. Michael smiled and grabbed hold of Max and squeezed tight.

“Thank you!” he laughed. “Finally, something meaningful. Think of all the profit we’ll earn. Max, we’re set for life.”

Max watched as Michael strode into the kitchen gleefully. Despite the strong front he had put up, Max nervously swallowed down hard. Invincibility is what he hungered for and he was about to obtain it, but why wasn’t he happy?


*One line was influenced by "End of the World" and another line was from “White Room”. Also, Eagle Rock, the name I used for the prison, is the name of the base where the White Room is located.

I sincerely apologize for being away for TWO months. I am pleased to say that I'm back. Now, before you all get too excited, I regret to say that the M/L meeting is not in this chapter. It IS in the next chapter. I promise. So, please, stick around. Thank you as always. I appreciate everything.

-hoLLy

Accompanying music, Dreams" by BoyzIIMean.


<center>Chapter 15- Joplin</center>

<center>“This life is yours. Take the power to choose what you want to do and do it well. Take the power to love what you want in life and love it honestly. Take the power to walk in the forest and be a part of nature. Take the power to control your own life. No one else can do it for you. Take the power to make your life happy.”
–Susan Polis Schutz
</center>

He stood in front of the mirror wearing casual clothes. He never thought that jeans, a t-shirt, and leather jacket would feel so good. Thomas was used to ironed out slacks, a thin undershirt, thick uniform jacket, and a cover on his head. One thing still felt like military school, though. Thomas ran a hand through his newly cut hair, but his hair was pretty short that his hand didn't really run through it, but kind of above it. He hated the way his ears popped out and right now they were red because of the cold.

"Looking good, little brother," Isabel smiled as she walked into the room.

Thomas rolled his eyes knowing that his sister would see him do so. "It's seven o'clock in the morning," he chuckled. "What the hell are you doing here? You don't even live here anymore."

The tall blonde turned her brother around and started fixing the collar of his jacket. She was playfully being rough, grabbing the lapels and giving them good tugs, jerking him forward. Ok, she was only being half playful. The other half was really Isabel taking out her frustration on her baby brother. It had nothing to do with Tommy-boy. Isabel was thrilled that her brother was back. She felt it was time for him to come home. For the past few days, they spent every waking hour catching up. Thomas told her everything about MacArthur Academy, absolutely everything. Isabel and Thomas had that kind of relationship where there's this ease to just opening up and spilling your guts. They never judged or criticized each other. They only listened and understood.

Finally, they had each other again. God knows they'd love to talk to Max in the same way, but Max was an enigma. There were days when he would keep to himself and prefer to not be spoken to, and other days when he would be sarcastic and take things lightly. And when he talked to you, I know he doesn't mean it, but he'd give his opinion, which definitely is a good thing, but it would be more like a judgment more than anything else. Anyway, all I'm saying is Isabel didn't have a problem with Thomas, and she didn't have a problem with Max for that matter either.

While Thomas thought that Isabel came from her apartment this morning, she had really been at the Evans Manor the whole time. For days she'd been spending the night in her old room. There was nothing wrong with the apartment she shared with Jesse, except for the fact that Jesse was there. She loved him. You know that. It's that damn secret that's eating her alive. She couldn't look at her boyfriend in the eyes and not tell him everything. Isabel wanted to marry Jesse. You're supposed to be open and honest with each other. Jesse's been open and honest with her. Why the fuck couldn't she do the same? That's an easy question to answer. You know the answer. Max. In all fairness, Max does have a point. You're not going to tell your Federal Prosecutor boyfriend that your brother is one of the most wanted men in the United States, would you? There was no way that Jesse would just ignore that fact for the sake of Isabel. The man who would send Basil Deo to prison would be a hero.

And that's what Isabel was fighting, but there's one simple solution. Blood is thicker than water.

Ok, so that's a shitty cliché, but it fits and I can't think of anything else.

Jesse and Isabel. They're a couple that can't last. They have the ability to, but it just won't happen. Not with a secret this big.

"Ready for your first day of school?" Isabel asked, changing the subject.

The young Evans boy took a deep breath and prepared to exhale by filling his cheeks with air and forcing it out through puckered lips. "I'd be happy at public school, Iz."

Isabel sighed just as heavily as her little brother did. She finished playing around with his jacket and gave his chest a few pats. "You're too vulnerable at a public school."

And let me help you understand why. Try to follow along 'cause I ain't going to go over it again.

Doing business with the mob stains you. You borrow a few bucks from someone like Valenti or you ask someone like Basil Deo to do you a little favor, and your name is on record, along with your mother's name, your father's, your cousin once removed, and you get the point.

How the fuck does this relate to Thomas and public school and why he can't go?

Well, you and I both know that his big brother is the notorious Basil Deo, and we both know that no one else knows that. So since everyone else thinks that Max Evans is some regular Joe, you'd think that would make Thomas and Isabel safe. But it doesn't.

Back when Basil Deo first hit the headlines, everyone tried to figure out the true identity of the crime lord. Assumptions were made. Names were brought up. Paranoia set in. What if the cashier at the Starbucks down the street was Basil Deo? I gave that guy hell. Or what if that waitress was Basil Deo? I didn't tip her enough. You get what I'm saying?

The suggestions that made the news, though, were people of the elite class. Tyler Baker, the son of a successful and popular surgeon in LA, was thought to be Basil. Another possibility was Campbell Farraday, whose father was one of the most powerful and corporate lawyers on the West Coast. Chris Wolfe, playboy and heir to a fortune, was another suspect. At one point, a few A-list actors were thought to be Mr. Deo. And when Ronin started taking off, restaurateur Max Evans was thrown into the bunch.

Max couldn't let that happen. If Max Evans was a Basil Deo possibility, the police and the government would investigate. They investigated the others. They would definitely dig into Max's past, and his past spelt out Basil Deo. I mean, the guy's the son of a mobster. He was practically bred, born, programmed, and trained to be a mob leader, despite Max not wanting to believe it.

So to prevent anyone from discovering the truth, Max, as Max Evans, did business with two of the biggest names in the mob, Khivar and Basil Deo. Now, don't freak out. I'm not finished explaining.

Pretend for a second that you didn't know Max Evans was really Basil Deo. Just take it out of your mind. Forget it for a moment. Don't think about it. Ok, we're all good? Good.

If Max Evans was supposedly Basil Deo, would Max Evans do business with Khivar, one of the most ruthless and powerful mob bosses in the world, in addition to Basil Deo's arch enemy? And if Max Evans was Basil Deo, how is it possible that Max Evans do business with himself? Those are the types of questions people would ask themselves if they suspected Max as Basil Deo. And the answer to those questions are: "No". Simply because it just wasn't possible. A strong mobster like Basil Deo would never turn to a rival and borrow money and there was no way Max could borrow money from Basil Deo if he was Basil Deo. Yet, somehow, Max Evans did. Ergo, Max wasn't Basil Deo.

When Max was starting up Ronin, he was known, if at all, as the orphan boy who was Nasedo's lackey. That's it. He came to LA with his brother and sister and was looking for a job. No one knew he was Nasedo's nephew or Phillip Evans's son. No one thought Max was capable of starting his own crew and playing with the big boys. Of course a few people had suspicions, but they were just small thoughts in the back of those people's minds.

But Max really was capable of starting his own crew and playing with the big boys, and he was making a hell of a lot of money doing so. So he could've used that money to start up Ronin, but instead, he went to Khivar, who was and is one of the most revered gangsters. The guy will go after your family if you do so much as to look at him wrong. But no one's really seen him. He's just as enigmatic as Basil Deo, but more dangerous. Basil Deo never kills, but Khivar will, and he won't hesitate. Max went to him anyway and borrowed a few thousand, and then he "borrowed" a few thousand more from Basil Deo. The money actually belonged to Tess, but no one knew that and no one followed up on it. With that done, rumors began to spread that promising business man (and I do mean legit business man) Max Evans did business with Khivar and Basil Deo. So Max Evans can't be Basil Deo, right?
It was a move very wise on Max's part to secure his anonymity, but he of all people knows that if you do business with the mob, your life and your family's life is at risk.

Thus, Thomas goes to Mantua Academy, a school with so much security that you'd think you were going to school at Fort Knox or the White House.

The teenage Evans despises the fact that special precautions have to be made. Thomas's family has money. He lives in a large mansion. He's set for life. Everything's at his grasp and sure, the thought of having a family member in the mob is pretty cool, but do you really want to have to carry a secret this large? Do you want to have to worry about whether or not someone found out that secret?

Thomas grabbed his messenger bag off his desk and swung it over his head. "I better go. I'm sure Nicholai's waiting for me."

Before her little brother could turn around, Isabel grabbed his arm. "Wait," she told him. "Max is at the club right now, but he said he was going to come back to see you off."

As politely as he could, Thomas took his sister's hand off his arm. "I don't need to be seen off," he replied sullenly. "Besides, if he really wanted to see me off, don't you think he would've done so before going to the club and not vice versa?" He stared at Isabel and when she couldn't give an answer, Thomas scoffed disappointedly while giving a little nod as if he knew that's what her reply would be. And then, he started to walk away. "I'll see you later, Iz."

<center>*~*</center>

"You and me. We'll run away and disappear."

He always told her that. Always. They both knew it wasn't something that could be done, but Sean would always tell her that. They'd plan it out as if leaving their lives behind was actually achievable. But it never would be. It was like some fantasy to them. They'd lie together in each other's arms and stare up at the sky or the ceiling or at each other, and they'd talk about picking up and leaving. Liz always said that she wanted to see Greece, and every time she told Sean that, he'd smile, give her a kiss, and tell her that he'll learn how to make gyros, even though he wasn't the biggest fan of Greek cuisine. Liz would ask Sean where he would want to go and as corny as it was, Sean would reply with, "Anywhere, as long as I'm in your arms."

She may have been young and naive, but Goddamn, she was happy. That was a long time ago, though. To you and me, it might have been just a couple of years since then. But to Liz, it seemed like another life ago.

She stills thinks about him everyday. Each morning, a little piece of the memory of Sean dies away and it's harder to remember his face, but throughout the day, Liz thinks about him, and eventually, that was enough to put the pieces back together. It never brought him back, but it would have to do.

More recently, though, a little more of the memory of Sean died away and his face was getting replaced with another. But this face...it wasn't real. It was fabricated by Liz herself.

"They feel so real," she began to explain. She took the miniature Popsicle stick that served as her coffee stirrer and swirled it around in her caramel macchiato, playing with the foam as it slowly began to disappear. She lifted the cup and took a little sip. "I don't know. They just give me a weird feeling."

While Liz was delicate with her beverage, Maria grabbed her tea and swallowed a rather big gulp. "Feeling? I've never had dreams that give me a weird 'feeling'."

Liz shrugged as she and her sister continued lounging just outside the Starbucks down the street from the hospital. "They're just dreams," she concluded. "They don't mean anything, right?"

Maria bobbed her head agreeingly and took another swig of her English tea. She stared at her older sister as Liz continued stirring her hot beverage even though it had been stirred well enough. It had been a long while since Maria and Liz sat down and had a cup of coffee together. Usually, Liz was too busy to spend time with her siblings, but since that Sunday night dinner, I'm sure it's safe to say that Liz was feeling a little guilty. Needless to say, Liz was going to start making some time for her family. Most of her family anyway.

"Shit." Liz caught a glance of her watch and picked up her cup. "My break's over. You can walk me back to the hospital."

Maria gave a noble nod and quickly followed after her sister. They walked down the crowded Los Angeles street, dodging tourists as well as natives of the bustling city. Liz walked hurriedly while Maria stolledstrolled down the street and managed to keep up with her rushing sister. The brunette Valenti marched, keeping her eyes focused down the street and the blonde Valenti took her time, glancing at clothes in windows of expensive boutiques. That's how you could describe the difference between the girls. It didn't matter to either one that they weren't exactly twins or had much of the same interests. They had that sisterly bond. That love and hate relationship. They were happy with each other. Maria was especially happy. She's beginning to see more of her sister now than ever before. Liz actually took her break outside of the hospital just to do a little catch up with Maria.

Liz called Maria early in the day. So Maria went and taught for the first half of the day and then claimed she had a doctor's appointment, which technically, she did. Maria met Liz at the hospital and the two girls took a taxi down the street to Starbucks. They ordered their drinks and muffin for each and took a seat outside where the sun was shining bright and the breeze was cool to the skin. Maria complained about how her students gave her nothing but lip, and Liz fought back with the fact that her first patient was a man with a screwdriver through the hand. Liz won that round of "My Morning Sucked More than Yours" and the two moved onto other important issues.

"Billy wants to give up his job at the firm and play at clubs," Maria had spilled to her older sister. "If he ever proposes and we get married, what are we supposed to do? Live off the quarters and nickels thrown into his guitar case?"

"I think it's romantic," Liz smiled. She said it jokingly with envy. "Have you talked to him about this? Where does he think this is going?"

Maria had slammed her cup of tea down and shrugged. "He wants us to play clubs together. It was the plan."

"And what's the plan now?"

The blonde looked at her sister with an eye slightly closed and the opposite eyebrow raised. "Break up?" Maria guessed.

And because of both the reply and the expression from her sister, Liz laughed. "Don't ask me! The closest thing I have to a love life is the face in my dreams I can't quite picture."

That led to the discussion of Liz's recurring dream. The dream of a man. It's the only way Liz could describe it. Dreams are vague little bitches. Sometimes they're clear, but a lot of the time they aren't. For Liz, they aren't, and they drive her insane when she wakes up. She remembers the dreams, but can't picture the face. It's like thinking of a word, but not being able to remember it.

"Ok," Liz said. She stopped in front of the hospital and turned to her sister to give her a hug. "I'll call you after my shift ends. We'll get together tonight?"

But Maria laughed. "We already have plans," she replied as the two let go of each other. "Joplin's opening is tonight. I told you about it at the devastatingly disastrous dinner."

Liz winced. "Club opening? It sounds like a Hollywood event."

"And it is!" Maria cheered. "Look, you...you've become this work-loving home-body and that needs to change."

And Maria was absolutely true. When Liz wasn't at the hospital, she was at home. So Liz winced once more and shook her head to emphasize her point. "No, it's not my thing. Let's just do a movie instead."

If it killed her, Maria was going to liven up Liz's life. Maria needed to liven up her own life, but she needed a partner in crime to do so, and what do ya know? Maria had a sister that could fit the position. "Come out with me just this once," Maria proposed, knowing that "once" was going to be enough to change things in her sister's life. "We'll make an appearance, mingle a bit, and get a few numbers..."

"You're taken, Maria..."

Maria slyly grinned. "Not for me, for you."

Liz began to re-evaluate herself in the thirty seconds she had left in her break. She's led three lives. The first starting at birth and ending the moment she changed her name; the second starting soon after the first and ending shortly when Sean died; and the third, her present life. Compared to the first two, life number three was everything mundane. It was work and home. That was it. Maria was right: her life was bland, numb, and nonexistent.

"Just this once," Liz finally decided. She kissed her sister's cheek and started jogging towards the hospital entrance.

"Who knows!" Maria shouted after her. "You might meet your dream man!"

<center>*~*</center>

"Max!"

Max whipped around as Larek came jogging down the stairs. "What is it?"
The third-in-command scratched the side of his head and continuously scanned the sheet of paper lying on the top of his clipboard. "I just wanted to go over everything for tonight."

After a quick glance at his watch, Max gave a sharp and quick nod. "Security?" he wondered as he marched through his new club.

He walked fast, too fast for Larek, who had to jog every other second since his strides weren't long enough to catch up with Max's. "Um, yes, sir," Larek replied with that English accent of his. "All the men will be here. They've been assigned to designated areas and are scheduled to work the whole night. There won't be any trouble."

Max had his lackeys and his wise guys. He had quite a few and they were quite noticeable. They'd roam the restaurant, wearing their designer suits or expensive leather jackets, while the restaurant was open. As they did, they'd scan the floor, leave the room, and every half hour, they'd come back and scan the restaurant again. I'm assuming they'll be doing the same at Joplin's opening.

That's not the only time you'd see those guys. If you had the chance to see Max, which is fairly rare since he liked to stay out of the limelight, you'd definitely see at least one of his men with him. It'd be Michael or Larek or a bodyguard or a man who would most likely be the driver. They were intimidating and honestly, quite scary.

With the addition of Max's lifestyle, the mansion, the cars, the money, the reputation, Max Evans screams out mobster, but since no one could ever prove Max's involvement in any law breaking activities, he's never been arrested or feared of by common people like they fear Basil Deo. Many just assume that Max is a wannabe, and that's absolutely fine with him.

"What about valet?" Max asked. He wanted to make sure that opening night was absolutely perfect. He and Larek had actually gone over all these details just the other day, but Max wanted this night to be without flaws.

Larek flipped through all his papers, searching for confirmation, and nodded. "We hired an agency to take care of it. Professionals, of course. No more fucking teenagers conning us again," he laughed.

Max froze and glared at Larek. When you were going to joke with Max, make sure you don't joke about his now-ex-wife, his family, or his money. Max lost a few thousand the first time he used valet for Ronin's first anniversary. Yeah, in his presence, I wouldn't bring it up.

Larek let his head drop and quickly apologized. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Satisfied with everything downstairs, Max started heading for the elevator with Llarek following close behind. "You remembered to notify LAPD to send a few men for extra security?"

"Yes."

The ding of the elevator sounded, but before the two men could step inside, Michael called out his boss's name. Since it seemed like urgent news or business, Max ordered Larek to meet him up in his office in about five minutes. So Larek stepped into the elevator and both Max and Michael waited for their trusted friend to disappear behind the heavy metallic doors.

"What is it?" Max wondered.

Michael pressed his lips together as he scratched his brow. "Quite a few things, Maxwell."

"No, don't," Max sighed. "Just lie to me and tell me that everything's perfect."

And Michael knew how stressful Max had been for the past few days; weeks as a matter of fact, but he couldn't hold off on an update in the world that is Maxwell Evans. Too much was going on to withhold. Besides, if Michael didn't report to il capo (the boss), then he'd forget and he'd stress out Max even more. "What do you want to hear first?"

"Aren't you going to tell me which one to decide between? 'Good news or bad news'?" But as Max studied his best friend's face, he knew he was in some deep shit. "There isn't any good news, is there?"

Michael regretfully shook his head. "I'll start off with the most urgent news. The deal with Whitaker isn't a lock," he started. "And even if it was, she wants the job done tonight, but our guys are all working the club tonight. Secondly, the plans for the casino are no where near done."

As an entrepreneur, Max continuously searched for the next big project. Cue a casino inside a thought bubble.

"Thirdly," Michael continued. "Tess hasn't signed the divorce papers."

Max angrily gritted his teeth. Tess was giving him more hell than when they were married. "What does she want?"

"I don't know," Michael shrugged. "Isabel said that Tess will most likely take you to court. Max, we can't let that happen. You know she'll squeal."

Tess would do anything to get what she wants and what she wants is everything Max owns. It seems that everything would be simple: Mrs. Evans was unfaithful, which was a violation of the pre-nup, meaning she doesn't get a cent, according to the agreement. However, Tess knows Max inside and out. To hell with the pre-nup, Tess can go to the Feds.

"You're going to have to reason with her," Michael urged.

Aside from the fact that Tess has the power to take the Antarians down by opening her mouth, Michael insisted that Max talk to Tess was because she was affecting every aspect of Max. Something had changed in him when the word "divorce" came out of his mouth. There were good changes and bad changes in Max, but a seemingly "good" change in this type of business might not be so "good" after all. Lemme try to paint an example for you. Ever since Max kicked Tess out of the mansion, he's been more hostile, aggravated, angry...Now, in a world where intimidation is possibly the greatest tool, too much hostility, aggravation, and anger leads to sloppiness and recklessness. For the past few weeks, the Antarians had been walking on pins and needless. Max had been pushing his organization to the edge. It's like standing on a log over a deep ravine. Max is in the center, closely followed by his crew, but he's jumping on this thing, playing with lives, and tempting the powers that be. He was acting more like Michael, and two Michael's in an organization spelt "prison", "life", and "no parole".

Max pondered for a moment, wondering whether or not he should actually speak to Tess because whenever they conversed, his blood boiled. How could you love someone, but have that feeling in their presence? "I'll have to deal with it later," Max decided. "As far as Whitaker goes, seal the deal, please? Once we get it, assign the Diamonds crew to take care of it."

"Can't," Michael disagreed. "Weston broke his arm."
"Really?"

Michael bobbed his head. "His daughter slammed the door on it."

"Ouch," Max laughed. "Ok, have the Hearts take care of it. I don't think we'll need them here tonight."

"And what about the plans for the casino?" Michael wondered. "The architects won't stop bitching and because of that, they aren't working."

Max started walking towards the bar, already having forgotten that he was to meet Larek upstairs in his office. He took a seat on one of the many stools and rested an elbow on the bar and his head in his hand. "Let's go ahead and get rid of them," he told Michael. "We need to pass the final draft of the plans off to the contractors next month. We're supposed to break ground at the New Year's party. So why don't we keep what we have so far, and call someone in to finish them off?"

Michael took a mental note and nodded. "Ok, done."

Then the two men just sat for a moment. There was an empty stool in between them as they continued to lean against the bar in boredom. I honestly don't know why. The men were the antithesis of boredom. You'd wonder if they've ever felt bored in their lives. If you knew them, you'd know the answer to that. The two never had a summer where they sat around the front porch wondering what to do next, because they always had something to do and they always knew what they were going to do next. That's why Max is so good at what he does; he's like a kid with ADHD, always thinking about more than one thing at once. He's aware and cautious. He thinks about what he did last time, what he's doing now, what he's going to do tomorrow, how to take action, and how to defend. All great kings are like that. Never let yourself get bored, you waste precious time.

"Was there anything else?" Max wondered.

When Michael realized there was more to say, he shot up. "Shit," he sighed. "I can't believe I forgot. Panacea."

Max shook his head. "What about it?"

"Development for the newer version is almost there," Michael began to explain.

"But..." Max sensed.

As he scratched his brow, Michael nervously cleared his throat and laughed. He chuckled to himself in disbelief as if remembering a joke, but what was at stake was clearly not a joke. "If Panacea isn't produced properly--"

"What's Panacea?"

Both Michael and Max's heads turned quicker than a deer's crossing the street.


You may have recognized some of the names I used. I borrowed them from Sherman Oaks, Rites of Passage, and Dawson's Creek. Definite emphasis on "borrowed".

The chapter you guys were waiting for. Enjoy.

-hoLLy

Accompanying music, "Differences" by Ginuwine.

<center>Chapter 16- Love at First Sight. Love at First Touch.


“Love at first sight is only realizing an imagination that has always haunted us; or a meeting with a face, a figure, a cast of expression in perfection that we have seen and admired in a less degree or in less favorable circumstances a hundred times before.”
-William Hazlitt</center>

"Ok, so that guy?" Eli pointed out.

Thomas's eyes followed his new friend's finger to a well-dressed, Abercrombie&Fitch fellow who leaned against a locker as he hit on a petite blonde.
"He's actually dating that chick's mom."

Thomas looked back at the couple as the girl giggled and blushed like a little school girl while the boy continued grinning with charm. Taking a closer look, Thomas realized just how fake the guy was. His bull shit was just mistaken as charm.

"How do you know all this stuff?" Thomas asked. "I mean, you've got dirt on every single person and you know the ins and outs of this place."

Eli shrugged modestly. "I've been trained by the best."

I.E. Max and Michael. They had enlisted Eli to help Thomas get around the school and thankfully, the two boys got along. It's funny actually, because Eli stuck to Thomas like Max's cronies stuck to Max. First thing in the morning, when Thomas stepped out of the limo, there Eli was, standing on the curb. He had the stupidest grin on his face and at first, Thomas wanted to shoot himself in the foot. The only thing that saved him was the fact that when he looked around for the first time, Thomas saw not just his limo, but about a dozen other limos. He was so happy to see that for once, he wasn't the spoiled kid at school.

Word spread around that there was a new kid before the first bell even rang. Thomas could feel everyone's glares on him as he walked down the halls. He loved the attention and the envy. It was a natural high. So Thomas absorbed it all and walked to his first class with his chest puffed out and his chin raised to the roof. Hell, the guy fit right in.

The day passed by and to Thomas, it was just a show. He was the performer and the school was his stage. He charmed every girl, as well as every teacher, all while remaining mysterious. Not everyone liked him, that was a given. Of course the meathead jocks and the big dicks on campus (definitely not named for their dicks), were feeling slightly threatened. So they had this distaste in their eyes when they watched Thomas walk from class to class.

"What are you doing right now?" Eli wondered.

Thomas shrugged as the two boys reached the front courtyard of the school. "Tonight's the club's opening. I thought I'd stop by."

"Cool," Eli nodded. "If you're there tonight, maybe I'll see you there."

At the fountain, the two boys shook hands goodbye with Eli promising to meet Thomas at the limo again tomorrow morning and Thomas thanking Eli for helping him get around. Eli then turned to start walking down the path and for a while, Thomas's eyes followed him, until someone stole his gaze.

She stood at about 5'4" and that was her exact height. You didn't have to calculate the heel height because she was a laid-back, casual girl, currently wearing just jeans and a simple top. Yet, somehow, those jeans and that simple top absolutely blew Thomas away. The young woman continued walking in Thomas's direction with a friend by her side. She smiled and giggled and Thomas studied every movement. She had one of those smiles that took effort to conceal with lips just because it was one of those smiles that were natural and always on, and she was one of those girls that would rather smile than not. So the smile definitely fit the girl and Thomas wanted to know who the girl is. He wanted her to smile at him.

The young woman approached Thomas, who tried his darnedest to get noticed, but failed as she walked right past the young man. Of course, in Thomas's mind, he just figured that she was just preoccupied with her friend. Despite that, Thomas didn't let his eyes wander off this girl who had stolen Thomas's affection. At the corner, the two girls disappeared and finally, Thomas went back into his body and back into the real world. That girl was the one Eli seemed to have forgotten, and Thomas couldn't, for the life of him, figure out how she could slip out of a guy's mind.

"Wait a second!" Thomas called after Eli and then jogged down the walk. "Who--Who was that girl?"

Eli, not knowing, at first, what Thomas was talking about, took a moment to think, and it hit him in the head like a brick. "Oh! Natalie!" he laughed. "I wouldn't even think about it."

Thomas shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Why not?"

"Just because," Eli sighed. "Natalie Valenti is seemingly nice, but she's what you'd call an ice queen, a diva, a bitch."

"No way."

As he spoke, Eli bobbed his head. "I'm afraid so. I mean, I'm sure once you get to know her, those names synonymous with her aren't fitting, but I don't think you'll ever get to figure out if they are or aren't. She's really selective about who she talks to."

It was going to be a challenge, but Thomas was looking for one. He was about get Natalie to fall in love with him like he fell in love with her. "Natalie Valenti," he smiled to himself. "Wait..." He stopped starring at the path Natalie had taken and turned back to Eli. "Valenti. That sounds familiar."

And Eli agreed, by bobbing his head, still. "Yeah, but I can't figure out why." The two went back to staring just beyond the corner of the school. "It reminds me an awful lot of Valentine."

"Valentine supposed to mean something?"

"Jimmy Valentine," Eli reiterated. "He was some old time mobster. Man, wouldn't that be something?"

Again, Thomas wasn't quite clear on what Eli was talking about. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if she's Jimmy Valentine's daughter...Hello, you're Max Evans's brother. We're talking Romeo and Juliet here."

And Eli was right. It would be a forbidden love that would be doomed from the start.

The two boys said goodbye to each other once more and Thomas rushed over to his limo. As he sat in the back seat, sliding down it at every turn, Thomas couldn't get Natalie's image out of his mind. He looked out the window, there she was. He looked to the empty seat next to him, and she was sitting right there. Thomas wasn't going to be able to give up so easily, but if he and Natalie were ever going to happen, did he want to deal with it? What if she really was Jimmy Valentine's daughter, whoever he was? Then you'd have to factor in Max and the family, his and hers. Some days Max wasn't his favorite person, but Thomas was done disappointing him.

"We're here, Tommy-boy," Nicholai announced. He stood on the sidewalk, holding the door open.

Thomas smirked and crawled out of the limo. He started walking under the canopy covering the walkway to the door, noticing men and women walking in and out of the alley adjacent to the club. With all the people working tonight's opening, the club must be what people are expecting from Max Evans and more. It definitely was. It would surpass everyone's expectations; Thomas could tell, and he was only standing in the front of the club, but when he walked in, he was convinced.

"Development for the newer version is almost there," Thomas heard upon approaching the club's bar.

An exhausted and obviously frustrated Max, sighed heavily. "But..."

There was a slight pause filled with Michael's chuckles. "If Panacea isn't produced properly--"

Panacea? "What's Panacea?" Thomas wondered.

Max's head jumped off his hand and he stared at his younger brother in shock. You could still tell her was tired and bothered, but now Thomas was the bothering issue. "What are you doing here, Will?" He stood up and walked around the bar. After offering and being turned down by Michael, Max grabbed a single glass and started pouring himself a drink. As soon as the glass was filled to his liking, he put it to his lips and forced it down.

"School just got out," Thomas replied. "I thought I'd stop by the club."

But after taking another shot, Max shook his head. "Will, go home.”

“What?” the young Evans laughed.

“I told you to stay away from here.”

As he shook his head with slight cockiness, Thomas continued to chuckle. “No, you said to stay away from Ronin.”

“Don’t get smart!” Max shouted, and yes, he was definitely overreacting, but you would too if you were carrying the load Max was. It was so easy to take his anger out on someone. “Get the hell out of here. If I catch you here again, I’m going to kick your ass so hard, your brain's going to hurt tomorrow morning.”

When Thomas looked in Michael's direction, Michael just let his head drop and started scratching his brow. And that was all Thomas needed. He was going to get out of there if he wasn't wanted. And now, dating Natalie, taking the risk, was looking more appealing. Right now, he didn't care about Max or disappointing him. Right now, he wanted to tick his brother off.

<center>*~*</center>

Standing in a pair of rarely worn Jimmy Choo's and a dress found in the back of her closet, Liz gazed at Hollywood, embodied in paparazzi, reporters, the red carpet, celebrities, and the newest hot spot in town, Joplin. Everything that represented Hollywood was here. Liz lived in Tinseltown and she witnessed it on television and sometimes right in front of her, but this was right in her face. She and Maria had just walked through the red carpet where they were blinded by the flashes and deafened by the shouting and the cheering. This was the Los Angeles/Hollywood that Liz tried her best to avoid, but she savored the moment, and actually enjoyed it, but she definitely didn't want to fall victim to celebritism. It felt good once in a while, but not every day.

"How you doing?"

Liz looked to her left at her dolled up sister and smiled. "I'm doing fine." She linked arms with her sister and led the way into the club.

Once the two women entered the club, they continued to be surrounded by the glitz and glamour that was Hollywood. The music was loud, the effervescent lights danced on the floors, the walls, and the ceiling, everyone was having a good time, and yes, even Liz was ready to have a good time.

<center>*~*</center>

The man was reportedly 60 and the only reason many thought he was 40 was because of the porcelain veneers, the brow lift, chin implant, nose job, liposuction, ass implants (yes, ass implants), and hair plugs. As he listened to the annoying husky voice of the man, Max stared at every fake piece of him. Except for the derrière of the councilman, because that would just be weird. Max could count every single hair plug and was going to have to to keep himself awake.

Max loved running his own restaurant, and now, club, but he hated the social interaction that was expected from the owner of such establishments. Some may find social interaction necessary, but not Max. He didn't care much for it. Max was a shy guy. He loved to be in control, but in his type of environment, meaning from a distance, behind the scenes.

However, Max's famous and wealthy patrons always wanted a word with the owner. So Max found it behoove of him to step out of the office and spend a few minutes talking to the A-list customers because he was grateful to them. Conversations are great. They can go a long way. It gets your name out there and causes your reputation to grow. Max's name was definitely out there and his reputation definitely grew, and so eventually, because Max took initiative to talk to his patrons, get to know them, and spend some time with them, even outside the restaurant, he became the number one young socialite restaurateur on the A-list. Hollywood had fabricated this image of Max Evans that really wasn't Max Evans. He was supposedly this hot shot restaurateur whose little black book had the name of every single celebrity in the world. He was supposedly the typical Hollywood socialite just because he wanted to show his appreciation to his customers by talking to them. He continued to wear the facade since it was good for the restaurant, and now, the club, but more than anything, he just wanted to be him. He wanted to be the quiet, reserved, conventional guy he really was.

But by being Hollywood Max Evans, he had created a legit name for himself, one he didn't have to hide behind, and that's what was important. He could be out in the open and live as Max Evans. No one was going to arrest him. No one was going to kill him, hopefully. And that's all Max wanted. He wanted to have a somewhat normal life...Ok, so being in the Hollywood fishbowl wasn't normal. I guess what I'm trying to say is that being Hollywood Max is a decent living, whereas Basil Deo Max just isn't.

Max worked hard to make that Hollywood Max Evans name, even though he wasn't all that comfortable with the limelight, but damn, getting to that point was exhausting as fuck. A night like tonight reminded Max of just how tiring it could be.

"Max!" Michael rushed up to his best friend and boss, grabbing his arm.

"Excuse me, Councilman Smith," Max interrupted politely. "It's been nice talking to you."

Then Michael dragged Max off to the side and as far away from the music as possible. "Don't get mad!" he shouted over the blaring tunes.

Max immediately started fuming. "What is it?" he growled.

Seeing the look on Max's face, Michael wished he didn't have to deliver the news, but he always had to deliver the news to Max. "We lost the Whitaker deal!" he admitted.

"What?!" Max was not in the mood. He definitely wasn't in the mood to hear news like that and I feel bad for poor Michael who had to be the one to break it to him.

"I don't know what happened!" Michael continued yelling, not angrily, but to get his voice heard. "Somehow 'Jimmy Valentine'," he said with sass, "got to Whitaker. A ship is leaving his dock with her goods on it in about half an hour."

This wasn't happening. Max couldn't believe this was happening. Not only was he drop-dead tired from the opening, even though they had opened only an hour ago, but he had just lost a job, to James Valenti. Max shook his head with exaggeration. “No,” he refused, getting into Michael's face. “No. Call Whitaker. Get in touch with her. DO SOMETHING! We will NOT LOSE anything to Valenti!” As he spoke, Max had his hand curled in a fist with his index finger extended. He pointed to ground, shoving it downward quite a few times.

Michael found it all absolutely unnecessary, but he wasn’t about to tell that to him. “Max,” he said. “Just calm down. Look, it’s too late to get the deal back.”

Max looked around and scanned the floor, not looking for anything in particular. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. This was supposed to be his night. Why wasn’t he having a good time? After a moment of scanning as he though, Max figured out a way.

Max wrapped an arm around Michael and brought him closer. “Go to the docks,” he said into Michael’s ear, eerily calmly. “Go to the docks and take care of that shipment.”

Michael jerked his head back. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean,” Max began to say as he stuck his hands in pockets, “when I wake up tomorrow morning, I want to see news about a ship that exploded in LA Harbor.”

This was an action Michael never thought Max would choose to make. Michael wasn’t sure whether or not he should be scared or happy.

“It’ll teach her to double cross me,” Max explained.

See, this is what I was talking about earlier. This was the new Basil Deo Max. Overly aggravated. Hostile. Ruthless.

While Max leaned back against the bar, Michael spoke on his cell phone, putting in the order to take care of the job they had lost to their rival. Both parties, Whitaker and Valenti, would have to pay. They were now playing with a new and depending on how you looked at it, improved hitter, growing stronger by the second. Valenti was the original king of kings. So now that he was back in business, Max was going to use every card he could to make Valenti’s job harder. Now, Max was having fun.

He quietly listened in on the conversation between Michael and most likely Larek and continued watching the floor. His guests ranged from political heads to movie stars to athletes to socialites to Hollywood locals who had the patience to wait in the line spanning a couple of blocks and to, apparently, underage Thomas.

Max threw himself off the bar and started marching in his young brother’s direction. When Michael noticed his boss take off in a rush, Michael snapped his phone shut and sped after Max.

“Did you let him in here?” Max demanded to know.

“No,” Michael scoffed. He was actually laughing to himself. Tommy-boy was going to be in some pretty deep shit.

As soon as Max reached the booth full of women in scantily-clad clothes and what could’ve been a pimp, Thomas noticed the presence of his big brother. “Oh, fuck,” he sighed.

“Get up!” Max shouted.

Everyone in the booth shot up.

“Not you guys,” Michael laughed. “Him.” And he pointed a finger at his figurative brother.

The whole booth sat down, leaving Thomas no other choice but to climb over the table and hop down in front of his brothers. The moment he stepped down, Max grabbed him by the collar.

“Lay off!” Thomas demanded, which came off as begging.

Back across the room where Max and Michael once conversed, Max slammed Thomas against the wall. “I told you to stay out of here!”

Thomas just rolled his eyes and shrugged. “You throw a good party.”

Max shoved his brother, who slammed back into the wall. “What the hell do I have to do to get you to listen to me?”

“Max, ease up,” Michael commented.

“No! How many times do I have to tell him to stay away from what we do?”

Michael’s head dropped as he turned away.

“Will, I sent you away for a reason,” Max tried to explain. “Michael and I aren’t your ordinary businessmen.”

“Save me the lecture,” Thomas scoffed.

Max grabbed the lapels of Thomas’s jacket, and gripped them tightly. “Listen to me, Will—”

Suddenly, Thomas’s jacket was freed from Max’s claws. The younger Evans glanced down to see his older brother’s hands loosely opened, sliding down the lapels. Looking back up, Thomas spat out a laugh at the site of Max’s face. Wide eyes. Pupils dilated. Eyebrows slightly raised. Mouth partially opened. It was the perfect time to slide right out. So Thomas did. He did a little box step and found himself free of Max’s clutches.

“Hey,” Thomas said, nudging Michael’s arm. “Check it out.”

Michael snapped around and saw Max frozen in time, almost literally. He gave a little shove and laughed. “What is it?”

Max stopped staring at the mirror on the wall, using it to stare at the stranger that walked through his doors. He turned around quickly to make sure she was there, and she was.

When Max first caught a glimpse of her in the mirror, he thought that maybe he was staring at a painting, but then she moved, and my God, she moved gracefully. It was like a trance and Max didn’t mind being under the spell. Everything about the girl made Max smile. Her gently flowing hair was a perfect mix of dark and light brown. It was the perfect length for Max to run his hands through if he was ever so lucky to run his hands through it. It was long enough for Max to savor the feel of, but not too long that he’d have to pull his hand out before reaching the end. He was sure her hair smelt like honey and sweet apples.

Max needed to discover the rest of this woman. He needed to, in order to confirm that…

“It’s her.”

“What?” Thomas and Michael wondered. They didn’t hear his whisper.

Max stepped forward, in between the two. “It’s her,” he said again, this time a little louder.

Thomas looked to Michael for an answer, but Michael shook his head with a “Don’t-Bother-Asking-Me” look on his face.

“Who?” Michael asked.

Witnessing the woman and her friend take a seat, Max was assured that they weren’t going anywhere. He turned to Michael with an eager smile on his face. “It’s her!” he repeated once again. “The girl from my dreams!”

“You’re kidding,” Michael scoffed. He looked in the direction Max pointed and studied the woman. “She is quite a looker.”

Thomas glanced at the booth and saw the woman sitting on the visible side. He was inclined to agree. “Who is she?”

“Max’s dream girl,” Michael smiled, making his eyebrows dance.

“You don’t say,” Thomas replied deviously. “Well, come on. What are we waiting for?”

Max stopped staring at the stranger for a moment and shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

“Think back ten years ago,” Thomas began. “We’re strolling through the mall and we see some hot chicks. What did we do?”

Max’s face lit up. Wait, wasn’t he just mad at Thomas a second ago? Eh, whatever. Max was obviously distracted and Thomas wanted to keep Max distracted.

“So let’s do it.”

<center>*~*</center>

“No,” Michael argued. “There is no way we’re doing it.”

“Why not?” Thomas wondered with a grin.

In turn, Michael sighed and rolled his eyes. “For one thing, you’re not eight anymore,” he said to his teenage friend. “And it just won’t work. It’s something we did when we were your age. It’s not going to work.”

Thomas shrugged. “Well, I’m going to go,” he had already decided. “You can choose to pick up my pieces if you want.” He walked proudly with his chin pointed to the ceiling and set a path leading to the booth where two beautiful women sat. “Hi,” he smiled when he arrived.

Both of the girls turned to the young man. The blonde looked at him skeptically while the brunette smiled warmly. They waited patiently for Thomas to speak once more.

“I saw you ladies come in,” he said. “And I was just wondering if I could buy you some drinks?”

The blonde’s eyebrow rose and her friend continued to smile, this time she smiled because she was holding in her laugh. She laughed inwardly at the adorableness of boy who was obviously a teenager.

“Maybe when you’re legal,” the blonde asserted.

“Are you sure?” Thomas innocently wondered. “My father owns this club. I’m sure I can get—” Suddenly, he jumped as a pair of hands was placed on his shoulders.

“I told you this wouldn’t work,” Michael said into Thomas’s ear, making sure he was loud enough for the ladies to hear.

“What wouldn’t work?” the blonde wondered.

In his mind, Michael laughed to himself, but showed no outward sign of it. “Oh, nothing,” he said. “Look, I have to apologize about Thomas. He’s supposedly into older women. He’s only 16 and he’s a little—”

“He’s sweet,” the brunette interrupted.

Hook, line, and sinker, Thomas and Michael thought. Cue in the fisherman reeling in the catch.

“Hey!”

Four heads turned to one person who approached the table. It may have been dark, but the woman with the brown hair and lightly tanned skin was immediately attracted to what features she could barely see. The stranger’s amber eyes glowed, his strong chin was the home to a faint five o’clock shadow, his crew cut, dark brown hair was styled to her liking (nice and neat), and when the stranger smiled, it caused the woman’s heart to jump happily and skip a beat.

“How many times have I told you your two-man flirting act doesn’t work anymore?” the stranger said. “It’s harassment.”

Hearing his soothing voice eased the woman’s heart and if it was possible, the woman thought her heart was smiling. On the outside, she didn’t smile as gleefully as she would have, like her heart was, because she didn’t want to seem too smitten by the man, although she was. Now the brunette understood “love at first sight”.

“I’m sorry,” the man said to the two ladies. “I’m sorry they’ve been bothering you. I’ll just—”

Both the women shook their heads. “It’s ok,” the brunette had spoken.

The mysterious stranger brought his eyes down to the beautiful petite woman. Inside, he grinned happily and fought to keep his cool.

“Yeah,” the blonde had agreed while the stranger continued to gaze at her companion. “These two were entertaining more than anything else,” said the blonde.

The tall, dark, handsome stranger laughed. “Still…” he began. “I have to apologize. They’re with me, I sadly admit. Look, I own this club. Please, let me give you a round of drinks on the house.”

“Ok,” the blonde nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

Meanwhile, her friend sat puzzled. She looked to the stranger with the magnetic smile and then to the teenager just a few inches shorter than him. The teenager had said that his father had owned the club. Yet, apparently the owner was standing in front of her. A twenty-something man with a teenage son. There was a strong resemblance between the two. The brunette continued to stare off to the side questioning herself, but then a hand shot out in front of her.

“I’m Max,” the stranger smiled. “Max Evans, in case that’s what you were wondering.”

The brunette snapped out of her daze and looked up at Max. Max Evans. It was such a wonderful name, it seemed so fitting. Suddenly, she began to wonder what his middle name was. Was it his father’s name? Was his “son” named after him if it really was his son? All the brunette wanted to do was to get to know more about this “Max Evans”. She smiled to herself.

“What about you? Do you have a name?” Max asked her. “Or am I going to have to bribe you with few more rounds of drinks on the house?”

The nameless brunette smiled in embarrassment and finally took the man’s hand that he extended to her. She was taken aback and surprised by the touch of his skin. It was literally like making a connection. It was a spark, not like an electrical spark that shocked her but a spark that set off fireworks in her mind. Her heart raced and her breathing quickened. She looked up to see Max react the same way. He blinked a few times, waking him from his gaze.

“Um, where were we?” he wondered, and then it quickly came to him. “Oh…your name? If you don’t mind…” he said with a grin.

She smiled back. “Liz,” she replied. “I’m Liz Parker.”

And we’ve got a name! Behind their own backs, Michael and Thomas gave each other a five.

“I think our work here is done,” Thomas grinned. He started backing away, tugging Michael with him. As they stepped backward, Thomas leaned towards his friend. “Hey, why’d you say I was 16?”

“16 is the oldest you can be for this thing to work,” Michael explained, spreading his wisdom to the younger generation. “We tell them that you’re really 17, you’ve hit that point where you’re somewhat matured. You’re still just a dumb teenager trying hard as fuck to get some at 16.” Michael grinned and nodded his head solidly.

And Thomas took that with a grain of salt and nodded in understanding and agreement.

Meanwhile, back at the booth, Max was using his dormant charm to win the heart, or at least the attention, of the woman who had already stolen his heart and attention. “You’re beautiful,” he genuinely told her. That wasn’t charm or some line to get her into the conversation, but Max’s true feelings.

Liz, however, wasn’t completely sold. It still bugged her that he was the father to the teenager, and there was nothing wrong with that, but Liz didn’t see herself in that type of relationship. Whenever she plans on starting a family, she wants to do it the traditional way. I’m not saying that she wouldn’t get serious with a man who was a father. If she loved him, that’s all that mattered. It was just all a little too much for her. She knew he was too good to be true. “I’m sorry,” Liz interfered. “I don’t know if I’m what you’re looking for.”

“What do you mean?” Max chuckled.

And underneath the table, Maria shoved her foot at her sister’s shin. Liz glared angrily at her sister.

“I’m not looking to meet someone,” Liz explained to Max. Max Evans. “And no offense, but I’m not into older guys.”

“Yeah, what’s the deal with that?” Maria wondered, butting into what conversation was forming between Max and Liz. “I’ve been thinking about Botox. Not for me, of course,” she said with a laugh. “Is that what you’re using?”

Thank God the club was dark. The girls weren’t able to see Max’s burning red cheeks. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve got to be at least forty,” Maria bluntly replied.

There was absolutely no way Max looked forty. Was there? Maybe it was all the sun in California. Studies showed that— No, there was no way he looked forty.

“What makes you think I’m forty?” Max wondered. He let the sweat form on his forehead.

Liz looked past Max as Thomas slowly began to turn around. “Your son—”

“My son?!” Max exclaimed. “What? Who—”

He turned around, watching Thomas pick up his pace as he walked farther away. Max leapt after his little brother, managing to grab him by the arm. “What did you say to her?”

Thomas laughed. “Nothing, Daddy Dearest.”

The red in Max’s cheeks no longer stemmed from embarrassment. “Why? Why did you tell her I’m your father? Do you know how embarrassing that was? She doesn’t want to get to know me!”

Thomas leaned and smiled. “Maybe you should’ve been a little nicer to me.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Max sighed. He turned to Michael and prepared to give orders. “Call Nic and tell him to take Will home.”

Michael nodded obediently and grabbed Thomas by the arm. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?” The two disappeared into the sea of people.

Max wiped the sweat off his forehead and adjusted his tie, making it a little looser. He could do this. He could walk back to the women and talk to Liz. Liz Parker.

He slowly turned around and kept on a smile as he walked to the booth. “I have to apologize,” he began. “That was not my son. Will’s my brother. He was playing a very crude joke on me.”

Maria smiled approvingly. “It’s good to hear,” she said. “That it was a joke, I mean. You know what you should do? Talk to those tabloid people. Those photos are adding ten years in addition to ten pounds.”

“Wow, you’re really out there, aren’t you?” Max wondered, grinning.

“Does that turn you on?” Maria toyed. She was definitely playing it up, even throwing in a little wink.

“Maria!” Liz hissed. “Please, shut up.”

Maria and Max looked each other’s way and smiled flirtingly. Liz looked back and forth between the two. She and her sister had been at the club all of five minutes and she was feeling nothing but uncomfortable. Sure, the moment she looked into Max’s eyes, she felt…safe, but that has since changed. Now she wasn’t sure of his age or why he was in the tabloids or why now her sister and Max were flirting. All this stress in a night that was supposed to let Liz’s hair down.

“Maria, can we go now?” she begged.

Max snapped his attention off of the blonde and turned back to Liz. “No, you can’t leave,” he argued. “We still have to get you the free round of drinks.”

Liz smirked and grabbed Maria’s hand off the table. “It’s ok. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

“I thought you were off?” Maria said.

Max smiled to himself as he watched Liz’s reaction of sheer shock. “Well, since you’re off…Would you mind going out for dinner or something?”

Liz pulled at Maria’s arm, plucking her right out of the booth. “I told you, I’m not looking to meet anyone.”

The two women walked right past Max, and Max was right, honey and sweet apples.

“Wait!” he called after them. He ran through the crowd, dodging people, moving them aside. He was an arm’s length away from the girls and one thrust forward, Max was able to grab Liz’s arm. “Please, don’t go.”

Maria pulled Liz to stop her. This guy was persistent and eager. He was beyond handsome, he was rich, and he was interested in Liz. So Maria stopped her sister to help the guy get a chance with his sister, who definitely needed someone other than family, co-workers, and patients in her life.

Max thanked Maria silently and focused completely on Liz. “I need to see you again,” he told her.

“I told you—”

“I know,” Max interrupted. “But you don’t understand. You’re special.”

Liz stared at him incredulously. “Special how? Like ‘my mommy says I’m special’ special or ‘keep under close supervision’ special?”

Then for the second time that night, Liz really looked into Max’s eyes. They were unusually golden, like antique treasure, but the eyes themselves weren’t the treasure, the reflection in them were. It was her. And then Liz noticed Max’s hand around her arm. He held her in a controlling position, but his touch was delicate and soft that it was more of a wanting hold. She felt safe again, despite no danger. Maybe it was the warmth. There was warmth emitting from his hand, but not warmth producing sweat. It was heat fusing together, hers and his. It was chemical and magical.

“Ok,” Liz nodded. “Tomorrow. Dinner.”

With total satisfaction, Max smiled. He was a gracious winner, most of the time, and he let Liz know how appreciative he was of this chance to spend time with her.

On the side, Maria rolled her eyes. It was like one of those lame WB teen soaps where the guy and girl look lovingly into each other’s eyes, for like, five minutes. Since they weren’t about to seal the transaction, Maria pulled out a pen from her purse and grabbed Max’s hand. She immediately started scribbling.

“There,” she announced. “That’s her cell number. She’s free for dinner and maybe a movie.”

Max lifted his hand to take a look, but never actually took a look. He couldn’t take his eyes off her brown eyes. They were seemingly plain, but so enthralling. And Liz, slowly began to fall in love with Max’s eyes. They were eyes, for Christ’s sake, but they were gorgeous. They made her heart jump around her chest and her legs feel like Jell-O.

All the little doubts she had about Max disappeared.

Why did she feel this way? Liz couldn’t figure it out. In an instant, she had let go of all her inhibitions. The wall she wanted to put up was torn down before the cement was poured. Liz was changed with a look and a touch of a man who had to be a dream.

A/N: icequeen, I want to thank you for the nominations! I love you! And thank you to everyone for reading!

Accompanying music: "Cannonball" by Damien Rice.

<center>Chapter 17: Part 1- First Date

“When things go wrong, you’ll find they usually go on getting worse for some time, but when things once start going right, they often go on getting better and better.” –C.S. Lewis</center>

“En garde?”

Max whipped his foil up into position and held his free, ungloved hand up behind his head. He stared down his opponent through his mask and took a deep breath. The duel began the second after he nodded. Max was the first to jolt forward, forcing the tip of his foil toward Larek. He continued advancing and Larek continued retreating backward, trying his best to defend himself against Max’s attacks.

“Pent up aggression?” Larek asked as they fought, wondering why Max was putting such great effort into the duel.

“I guess you can call it that,” Max replied back. He pressed forward, not lightening up. “Tess, Joplin, Whitaker, Panacea, everything.”

Max turned his wrist, lunged forward, and jabbed at Larek with his sword. A buzzer sounded and a four under a green square turned into a five. With the tip of his foil pressed into Larek’s protected torso, Max smiled behind his mask.

“Touché,” Larek sighed. He let his arm drop, allowing the end of his sword to touch the mat.

Max stood up from his lunge position and took off his helmet with his free hand. “Do you want to go again?”

Larek chuckled, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Losing to you twice is good enough for me.”

“Oh, come—”

“Max!”

The dark-haired male turned his head to the door with curiosity on his face as Michael walked into the recreation room created just for fencing, a sport Max grew to love for the movements made by the competitors. “What is it?” he wondered. He felt fear, anticipating what was going to happen next or what was going to be said, which, in essence, is the unknown, and everyone fears the unknown.

Michael strolled up with his hands behind his back and once he stepped in front of Max, he whipped out a newspaper. “Your wish: Granted.” He bowed and served the paper to Max.

“Fishing Boat Mysteriously Explodes,” Max read. His eyes jumped off the paper and to Michael. Max smiled happily.

“Read on,” Michael insisted.

Max went back to the paper and started scanning the front page article. “Although the fishing boat, owned by restaurateur James Valenti, spontaneously combusted, officials have ruled the explosion as accidental.” Continuing to grin with happiness, Max sighed, pleased. “Well done, Michael. I’m very happy.”

Michael blushed and followed it with a little chuckle. “That’s not all, Fearless Leader.” He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “We needed to make sure that Whitaker and Valenti knew who they messed with. So we sent them a little calling card.”

Larek nervously laughed. “What exactly did you do?”

“When Valenti’s men left on the fishing boat,” Michael began to explain. “Whitaker’s men were waiting on the dock, watching the boat set sail. Well, the boat caught fire, and Valenti’s men jumped ship. So there were no causalities,” Michael noted, emphasizing that point. It was the Antarian golden rule that whenever there was an assignment, mission, job, or whatever you want to call it, there was never a body count. “But there were victims of, what I like to call, tarring and feathering. We knocked out the guys on the dock and when Valenti’s guys washed up on shore, we got them too. We went head and doused them with glue and covered them in basil leaves.” Michael lifted his chin proudly.

Max laughed as he slowly lowered and shook his head. “I hope you guys enjoyed that because it’s not going to happen again,” he said sternly. “This isn’t prank wars, you understand me?”

Michael nodded and when Max looked to Larek, he nodded too.

“Good,” Max sighed. “Look, it’s still early. I want to head to the labs and find out how Panacea’s doing. I want to hurry—”

“Excuse me, Master Evans?” Another gentleman entered a room. This time, he was a man who wore a uniform, consisting of black dress shoes, grey slacks, matching vest, a black tie, and a dark grey tailcoat. “You have a phone call from one Ms. Liz Parker.”

Suddenly, Max wasn’t focused on his big development or reveling in the fact that he had managed to put a chink into Valenti’s armor. Liz popped into his mind and that was all. He thought about the image of her; the real image and the dream image. Max dreamt about her again last night and that’s when he knew that they were one in the same. She really was special and Max desperately wanted and needed her.

Max placed his glove inside his helmet and handed it to the butler along with his foil. He then took the phone and looked to everyone in the room. “This is an important phone call.”

With that, the other three men gave their boss some space.

Max stared at the phone in his hand, realizing that it was trembling. Now he was having trouble breathing as his heart sped up. She’s waiting, Max told himself. So he lifted the phone to his ear and cleared his throat. “Hello?” he said coolly.

“Max?” Liz wondered. “Max Evans?” She grinned as she spoke. It was a weird thing they did. And it was weird that she actually thought about that. They had known each other for no more than five minutes, and they already had a “weird thing”.

“Liz. Liz Parker,” Max smiled.

On Liz’s end, as she sat in the break room of the emergency room, she pictured Max smiling. He only smiled at her a few times last night and the surroundings were fairly dark, but Liz remembered that grin. It was a grin so wide every single tooth was exposed. It was a genuine smile. Liz loved that. She absolutely loved it.

“I got your call,” she finally said into the phone.

Calling Liz was the first thing Max did after waking up after a hectic night. He was eager to open his eyes even though he was dreaming about Liz, but he knew that he’d see the real thing tonight. That was if she stuck by the agreement.

“That’s it?” Max chuckled. “An ‘I got your call’?”

“Well, I did,” Liz replied, somewhat smugly.

This woman was definitely going to be a challenge. The thought of that made Max smile, but don’t think that Liz was just going to be some playboy’s conquest. Max wasn’t a playboy and Liz wasn’t a conquest.

“Ok, fine,” Max grinned. “We’ll keep this short. If I’m not mistaken, you said you were free for dinner tonight.”

“Something to that affect.”

Max nodded satisfied. “Alright. I’ll pick you up at 6:30.”

Yeah, that wasn’t going to work, Liz thought. For all she knew, Max Evans could be some serial killer or a freaky stalker-type. There was no way she was going to let him know where she lived.

“How about we meet somewhere?” Liz suggested. “Say the Starbucks down the street from Cedars-Sinai?”

Max sighed once more. “Fine,” he replied.

She was being rather difficult now, which was becoming annoying, but he had to push through that. There was something about her and he wasn’t going to just forget without finding that “something about her”.

“6:30. Starbucks,” Max smiled. “It’s a date.”

<center>*~*</center>

Isabel sat at the breakfast table with a stack of papers on one side, her briefcase on her other side, and a plate of eggs, bacon, and sausage in between. She poked at the pork sausage as she read a stack of papers she held in her hand.

At the other end of the table, Thomas sat hovering over his bowl of cereal, shoveling Cinnamon Toast Crunch into his face. “Are all of those the divorce papers?” he wondered.

Not bothering to look up, Isabel nodded her head. “This is the only case I’m going to be working on for the next couple of months.”

Thomas gave a little chuckle. “It’s going to take that long?”

Finally, Isabel looked up from the papers and laughed. “You do realize that it was Tess Max was married to? She’s going to make this thing last as long as it possibly can. She wants to torture him.”

“Is she going to sink us?” Thomas boyishly wondered with serious concern.

No one should underestimate Tess Harding. She may have been a millionaire’s wife, but she was a business woman too. After her father, Ed Harding, had died, she received hundreds of thousands of dollars to her name. By this time, she was already married to Max, but she was able to turn those thousands of dollars into millions. You also had to factor in that Tess knew Basil Deo’s true identity.

Isabel shook her head and wore a little smirk. “No,” she told her brother softly. “Don’t worry. I’m going to take care of everything.”

Thomas smirked back and got up from the table. “The mall’s probably just opened. I need to start Christmas shopping.”

“You need to start?” Isabel laughed.

Thomas tilted his head back and had a hearty laugh. He completely forgot how Christmas was with his family, specifically Isabel. “Oh, geez, all hail the Christmas Nazi,” he chuckled.

“What was that?” Isabel asked.

Trying his best to hide his smile, Thomas shook his head. “Nothing,” he coughed. “When are you going to start decorating the house?”

Isabel reached into her briefcase and pulled out a small notebook and flipped it open. “The lights are being delivered on Monday…The poinsettias and holly bushes are coming on the following day…The tree’s already set up down in the foyer…I should start searching the basement for the angel…Oh and—”

When Isabel looked up, Thomas was leaving the room, shaking his head and smiling. “Later, Christmas Nazi,” he mumbled.

“What?!” Isabel shouted.

Thomas poked his head back into the breakfast dining room. “I said, ‘Bye’.”

Isabel’s eyes narrowed. “Bye,” she replied skeptically.

Thomas strolled through the house, eventually making it to the east wing of the mansion where the garage was located. He passed the wall of keys choosing not to drive himself to the mall. He didn’t feel up to it. So Thomas called out Nicholai’s name and eventually the big guy popped out from behind one of Max’s many sports cars.

“Can you take me to the mall?” Thomas wondered.

Wiping his hands of grease, Nic shook his head. “I—I don’t know, Tommy. Your brother was awfully mad at you last night. Are you sure you aren’t grounded?”

Thomas wouldn’t know. He hadn’t spoken to Max since he ordered Michael to take Thomas away. That sounds horrible, doesn’t it?

“I just want to get some Christmas shopping done,” Thomas explained. “You do want a gift, right?”

Nicholai giggled in delight and bobbed his head like a anxious little kid. He ran over to one of the BMW’s and opened the back door for Thomas. Soon enough, Nic was speeding off the grounds with Thomas in the back seat.

Three weeks until Christmas and Thomas didn’t have the slightest idea what to get for his family and the staff. He had been away too long. Did Max still like the Lakers? Was Michael still playing hockey? Is Isabel…Actually, Thomas never knew what to get his older sister. She was always the hardest to shop for.

The BMW turned onto Masquerade Avenue and Thomas nervously bounced his knee, continuing to write up a Christmas shopping list in his head. He stared out the window, watching the people zoom by, and as they approached the stoplight, the streaks of people became actually people, and Thomas saw her again.

Natalie Valenti was dressed in black slacks, a white dress shirt, and a black neck tie. Around her waist was a black apron and still, she look gorgeous. Thomas opened the door as the red light turned green.

“Tommy!” Nic shouted. “What the hell ya doin’?”

Behind him, the cars honked and honked. Californians loved their horns.

“I’ll call you in a minute,” Thomas replied.

Nicholai sighed heavily and Thomas slammed the door shut. The car drove off and the drivers behind them started screaming obscenities at Thomas. The ruckus was enough to grab Natalie’s attention. She looked over her shoulder, noticed Thomas, but didn’t think too much into it. She went back to her customers.

The young Evans didn’t mind the hostile drivers screaming at him as they drove past. He was fixated on the girl. Keep your eye on the prize, right?

Thomas approached the outside dining area and leaned against its fence. “We’re in AP bio, right?” he said.

Natalie glanced back over her shoulder, rolled her eyes, and turned her back. How lame of a pickup line was that, Thomas? Come on now. Resisting the urge to slap his forehead, Thomas just cleared his throat.

“My name’s Thomas,” he said.

Natalie smirked apologetically to her customers and walked over to the sidewalk. “What the hell are you doing? I’m working.”

Wowza. Eli was right. Natalie Valenti was a bitch, but my oh my, she was a gorgeous bitch.

“I—I see that,” Thomas began stutter. “But—”

Natalie gave a little laugh. She loved making guys flustered. “What do you want?”

“I—I know we barely know each other,” Thomas started off. “I’m new here. Well, not exactly new, but I saw you the other day. At school, I mean. I’m not stalking you or anything.”

Wow, wasn’t Thomas a regular ladies man?

“You’re rambling,” Natalie sighed.

Thomas smirked and nervously cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he apologized. He took a deep breath and tried to gather what self-esteem he had left. “I’ve been in town a few days. I saw you at school the other day and I think you’re absolutely beautiful. I was just wondering if we could go out for dinner and a movie next Saturday?”

Natalie stared at the young man before her and you know what? He was a pretty good-looking guy. Thomas was handsome, adorable, a little eager, and genuinely interested in Natalie. And he said she was beautiful. No one had told her that. Natalie gave a little smile and walked back into the outside dining patio. She moved to a vacated table and started cleaning up the dirty plates. “There aren’t any good movies this weekend,” she told him.

“Oh…” Thomas said, defeated. He let his head drop, slowly bobbing it up and down. “I guess I’ll—”

Natalie placed the plates in a bin and walked back over to Thomas. She dusted her hands off, looking over her shoulder into the restaurant. “You want to go to the winter formal instead?” she asked, gradually looking back at Thomas. Now, she finally had a smile back on her face.

And on Thomas’s face? Well, I’m sure you’d be able to count all his teeth since his mouth was open so damn wide.

<center>*~*</center>

Maybe Liz shouldn’t have had that espresso. She was literally sitting on the edge of her seat. Both of her knees were bouncing like crazy. She was all jittery and anxious. Come on, who the hell decides to have a shot of espresso before a date, much less the first date?

“Nervous?” someone whispered into her ear.

Liz turned around with a quickness seen cheetahs. Realizing it was none other than Max Evans, Liz calmed her heart. “Don’t ever do that to a woman on caffeine,” she warned.

Max laughed and moved to the chair across from Liz. Before taking a seat, Max took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around the chair. As he made a decent to the cushion, he noticed how gorgeous Liz was in a simple skirt and top. Good thing he took his jacket off, otherwise, he’d be sweating up a storm. “You are absolutely—”

“Ok, first things first,” Liz interrupted. “Quit the act. How about you be you?”

She knew that there was a different side to Max Evans than he was putting off; a real side. Liz was an ER doctor. She saw people everyday. She saw all types of people and as a doctor she was an observer. She studied her patients, understanding them on a level many others never would.

Liz studied Max last night. She knew there was something about him. He had told her that she was special, but he was just as special. Ok, I know that’s such a lame way to describe things, but it’s what it was.

Liz knew that what she saw last night was just a shield. It’s one of the reasons why she agreed to date Max Evans. With her curiosity and tenacity, Liz wanted, and was going, to get through that shield and see what really was there.

“Excuse me?” Max wondered.

“You don’t have to be that Max that’s for show,” Liz said straight out. “I want to know the real you.”

Max stared at this woman with an eye slightly closed and the other one wide open with his brow hiked up. “This is the real me,” he insisted, but he knew it was a damn lie.

“No, it’s not,” Liz grinned, shaking her head.

“And how do you know?” Max wondered. He leaned forward, crossing his arms and placing them on the table. He was definitely curious to know.

Liz took a sip from her water bottle. Now she was calming down. “I see it in your eyes,” she replied.

Max cleared his throat nervously and took his arms off the table. He kept them crossed, but now had them crossed in front of his chest as he leaned back. “What exactly do you see?”

As she was ready to take another sip, Liz smiled. Was he ready for the truth? Liz screwed the cap back onto her bottle and placed it down on the table. “You put on a façade, not to hide who really are, because you’re not ashamed of that, but because who you really are just doesn’t cut it in your business, which makes me wonder why you do what you do, especially here in Hollywood.”

Max’s eyes grew even wider, but he quickly reduced them back to normal size and cleared his throat. “What is the real me, then?”

Liz took a good look at him. She stared into his eyes, making him feel slightly awkward, and smiled. She didn’t delight in making him cower. She smiled because she loved looking into his eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” Liz said softly.

“What?” Max asked. He didn’t hear her.

Liz snapped out of the trance and rubbed her eyes. “Sorry,” she said.

But Max shook his head. “Don’t apologize. Tell me what you see.”

She stared back at Max, wondering if he really wanted to know what she thought, and it turns out, he did. He had this look of great interest on his face. So Liz cleared her throat and decided to just start talking.

“Despite what I saw last night,” she started, “you’re quiet. You’d rather stay at home or have a nice quiet dinner than attend the parties you attend anyway. You try to put up this arrogant and pompous demeanor, but you’re respectful and loving…” Liz stared into his eyes for another look. She kind of squinted, wondering if what she saw was really what he felt. “Most of all…” she realized. “Most of all, you’re scared.”

Max adjusted his arms and chuckled. “I’m scared?”

Liz nodded. “Well, you’re scared of: One) That you’re not living up to your potential,” she explained. “And two) You’re scared for your family. You feel like you’re responsible for all of them. You feel you need to protect them.”

Max’s arms tightened. Again, he cleared his throat as he looked to the left and right. “What are you?” he said. “Some kind of psychic?”

“No, I’m a doctor,” Liz smiled. She relaxed back in her chair and snatched her water bottle off the table. “I see different types of people everyday. I study them, but it’s all common sense really.”

“Common sense, huh?” Max wondered.

And Liz nodded back.

“Ok, fine,” Max replied, clearing his throat. “Let me try you.”

Liz brought her chin down in a quick nod and then lifted it back up. She allowed Max to look into her eyes. This time, she took notice to his eyes once again. When she spent time studying them, she didn’t really get to appreciate them. Now that Max was doing the studying, Liz had plenty of time to appreciate his beautiful amber eyes.

But looking into Max’s eyes, Liz couldn’t help but realize that she was so right about everything. Most of what she said was bullshit. She was throwing things out, hoping that maybe one of her darts would hit the target. Liz realized that all of them were right on the mark.

“Ok, Max replied satisfied.

Liz shook her head and blinked her eyes a few times.

“It appears I’m not the only one with a mask,” Max said.

Liz scoffed.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Max grinned. “You wear a shield as well. You try to come off as strong, and I’m not saying you’re not, but it seems like you force yourself to be that way.”

“And why’s that?” Liz asked.

Max went back to leaning on the table with crossed arms. He was most comfortable that way. He fiddled around with the napkin holder on the table and focused on it for a while before glancing up at Liz. “You don’t want people to know who you really are,” he finally answered.

A little more than five minutes into their first date and Max and Liz knew more about each other than their family knew about them, and they were so right about each other. They managed to learn things they normally wouldn’t have told each other or said at all.

Both of them had these façades. I guess you can go as far as saying that they were leading different lives to keep secrets hidden, but it obviously appears to be that the two had unearthed some of those skeletons. Of course, there were still skeletons in both of their closets, but they would never reveal those to each other.

Or so they believed.

You never keep secrets from the one you love, right?

TBC