After the meeting, I dropped Eliza at her brothel before heading home. Carry had called, telling her that there was some emergency that only Eliza could deal with. I wanted to go with her, but she reassured me that I wouldn't be any help.

For the moment, I was grateful for the peace. I went straight to the kitchen and made myself a coffee. Now I could think.

Eliza and I were back on track, the other mafias were on our side and Konrad were becoming less of a threat. Things were becoming brighter in the world. So, why was the last thing I felt was settled? What was left unfinished?

My mind began to wonder, trying to search for the reason until it came up with a simple name. I sucked in a breath, shaking my head to throw the thought away. No, no, I wasn't opening up that box.

"And what do you think your doing?" Mrs Phillips demanded from behind me, causing me to spin around and try to determined what I had done wrong, "I just cleaned in here. Don't make a mess."

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. She was always at me for something.

"Where's Lizzy?" she asked, noticing her absence.

"At her brothel," I answered, taking a sip from my mug, "I'll pick her up in an hour."

She nodded, satisfied by my answer, "How did she go at the meeting? Wasn't too overwhelmed?"

"Surprisingly no," I told her, not hiding my wonder, "she was actually quite strong, demanding too."

Mrs Phillips chuckled, shaking her head, "she gets that from her mother."

At the word mother, I froze. The something that I had been trying to ignore. My mother. The one that I had lost a long time ago. I was slowly realizing that I had no idea what happened to her.

When Eliza was kidnapped by Drago, he revealed that he had killed both our mothers as punishment for crimes that their husbands committed. But he never told her the reason behind my mother's death and why it was a necessity. My father never spoke of it and I had never tried to push the topic. I had never even searched for the reason. And now he was dead. But there was one other person around then who knew.

"Mrs Phillips," I started, struggling to word the question, "What happened to my mother?"

Mrs Phillips froze at the question, her eyes dropping to the ground. Its only now that I realised that she had never told me either. Had my father drugged my young mind that much that I had never even thought about her? Her death had never plagued me until now, not like it had haunted Eliza's youth.

"You've never asked about her," Mrs Phillips pointed out, trying to avoid the question.

I shrugged, not knowing a reason to why I never have, "I've never thought about her till now."

She was still quiet, making me wonder if she was going to keep avoiding the question or just completely run away. Lucky enough for me, I knew the words to manipulate her into giving me what I wanted.

"I was just thinking how Eliza has that closure. She has a connection to her mother that I never had and knows the reason behind her mother's death. I don't have that," Mrs Phillips eyes grew big and sad at my confession, the mother inside of her reaching out and wanting to heal what was broken inside of me, "My father never told me anything about her. About her, who she was, her death, nothing. But, you know."

At that, her eyes narrowed, seeing through my manipulation, "I know what your doing. Trying to soften me up?"

I groaned, my frustration growing, "Why won't you tell me? Hate to break it to you Mrs Phillips, but I'm not that repulsive teenager anymore."

She scoffed, looking me up and down, "Please, you are still that teenager, you're just a tad bit smarter now."

Tad bit smarter? Thank you so much for your support, Mrs Phillips.

"But yes, I think it's time you know," she sighed, rubbing her forehead, "back before you mother died, you know that Sebastian Drago and your father were friends, right?"

I nodded, remembering that tiny bit of information.

"At one of your father's Christmas balls, Sebastian had a little too much to drink and blurted his plan for world domination to your mother. She told me all of it the next day," she continued, focusing on everything else but me, "A few days later, she was shot in her office uptown."

I sucked in breath, suddenly going numb. It wasn't a surprise that Drago killed her, I already knew that. But hearing the full story out loud was making my head pound.

"Did he know?" I asked, running my hands through my hair, "Did my father figure out that it was Drago."

She shook her head, clutching my wrist in an attempt to give me comfort, "No, no, Drago covered his tracks well. It was only just before Chloe Uccello was killed that he figured it out and came up with the plan for you to marry Lizzy and send that bastard underground."

I glared at her, trying to find out if she was lying or not. Could my father have known from the very beginning? Could he have killed Drago twenty-five years ago and stopped anything of this from happening. Eliza would have her mother, we would never haven been forced to marry and she would never have been kidnapped twenty-four years later. Or for once, my father was not to blame.

"Oscar loved your mother very much, almost as much as you love Eliza today," she reassured me, looking deep into my eyes, "if he had known it then, he would have tracked Drago down and killed him himself."

"He still didn't when he knew," I pointed out, "He robbed Nicholas Uccello of his revenge and instead robbed both Eliza and I the chance of falling in love with someone of our choice."

"Things were different then. Drago had more followers, he couldn't just be killed," she reminded me, "and its not like his plan was a total bust."

I narrowed my eyes at her, knowing that she was throwing mine and Eliza's happiness in my face. Oscar just got lucky on that count.

There was something else gnawing at me, something else that I didn't know.

"Tell me about her?" I asked, my voice unstable than what I liked.

She smiled, her eyes softening as if the only thing she saw in me was that little six-year-old that lost his mother too young.

"She was a hard woman, I'll tell you that much," she joked, making me chuckle, "there was no other person in this world that could tie your father in nots like she could. She could give orders to even the oldest Mafia Lords and not even feel scared about it. That's probably where you get it from."

I felt myself blush, feeling a small connection to a woman I never knew.

I sucked in a breath, feeling the thought touch deeper in me than I cared to admit. It was stupid, to want the approval of a dead woman. But I had never received it from the parent that had been alive. Was it pathetic to secretly want it?

After an hour, I drove to Uomini Cielo, Eliza's brothel as promised. I couldn't deny that this place brought back old memories – not in the way you might think.

Nicholas Uccello, Eliza's father, never approved of me, not as a match for his only daughter at least. He only agreed to the marriage because he thought it would send Drago underground but he never liked the idea of Eliza being with such a monster.

And he got to see parts of that first hand here. The back rooms of this heritage building were where we formulated business deals and trade-offs. It was where we became partners, but never father and son. I guess Drago took that chance away from us as well.

Shaking the feeling of nostalgia away, I wondered into the old building. It always managed to smell the same. A mix between booze, cheap perfume and a small hint of a male odour. Eliza had spent almost a year remodelling her father's old casino but had never attempted to change a thing about this place. It still had the same old cream curtains, draped around the place and the large chandelier that lit up the lounge space. Half-circled, cream and cushioned lounges doted the place in no order as well as a few chairs here and there. At the bar, down the back sat the girls who's faces had changed since I had come here in my twenties.

Though many things were different, there was something that has definitely changed.

When Carry, Eliza's use-to-be-prostitute manager, spotted me from the other side of the room, she hurriedly paced her way over to me.

"Patrick, hey, how are you?" she huffed, struggling to keep eye-contact with me.

I looked her up and down, trying to determined why she was so off-edge. Making people nervous was common for me but Carry had gotten use to me. So why the sudden change?

Ignoring her question entirely, I informed her, "I'm here to pick up Eliza. Is she just in the office?"

"Yes, Patrick -," she cried out, stopping me just as I took a step towards the back room.

My eyes narrowed at her, my curiosity growing. She bit her lip as she continued to war with her inner-self, trying to decide if she should tell me.

Taking in a deep breath, her intelligence won out, "she's with Odin Volkov."

"Odin?" I questioned in disbelief.

Why on earth was Odin talking to my wife? It didn't take long for me to connect the dots. Of course he was here, trying take what wasn't his.

"He was the emergency," Carry explained, though I had stopped listening, "I-I tried to get rid of him but he refused to go."

My eyes twitched at her stutter, realising she was scared. Scared that I would blame her for letting him near Eliza and deliver the punishment that she deserved. It made my blood boil. Of course, everyone was terrified of the monster.

Shaking my head in anger, I made another move for the office.

"Patrick!" Carry cried out, chasing after me, "You can't go in there. She will hate you interrupting."

I turned to her, while continuing to walk backwards, I glared, "I'm here to pick up my wife. Do you really want to stop me from doing that?"

She halted immediately, fear filling her eyes. I guess being seen as a monster wasn't too bad.

The door to the office, was hidden down the back, away from viewing eyes. My mind was in turmoil. Why would she choose to see him alone? Why was she so damn stubborn?

Before I burst into the room, I stopped. I needed to know what they were discussing first.

Clutching the round doorknob in my hot hands, I pushed the door opened slightly, managing not to make a sound.

"Odin, you have to leave. What your saying is highly inappropriate?" Eliza ordered, making her voice strong.

I heard the scrap of the chair against the floorboards, as if Odin had stood up.

"Come on, it's not the most dumbest idea," Odin claimed, growing my worry of over his intention.

"Despite what you might think, Odin, I am faithful to my husband," she told me, making my anger surge.

He asked her to have an affair?

"Come on, do you honestly think that Maestri is?" He asked, trying to poison her against me, "he even boosted about it at my father's ball."

He's lying! Come on, Eliza, please, please don't believe him

"You lying," she scoff, making my heart pound, "that's not the type of marriage we have."

"Oh come on, Lizzy, don't be so naive," he groaned, clearly not expecting the effort he had to make to convince her what a lying, cheating dirtbag that I am.

What's more, my skin begin to sizzle at his use of her nickname.

"It's Eliza to you," she snapped, taking three steps forward, "get the hell out of my brothel before you say something you'll regret."

The room became silent and I began to think if I should make my presence known. That was until I heard Odin take a step.

"You wanted me once before," he purred, his voice just loud enough for me to hear.

She scoffed, "that is not true."

"You were married then too."

"Odin, you need to back off," she ordered him, her voice sounding desperate and scared.

"I promise you will enjoy it."

"Odin, no, don't - Odin!"

Crash!

My hands pushed on the door, swinging it open before I had time to react. My body went into instinct mode, forcing my way into the room. Odin jumped away from Eliza, who was pressed against the file cabinet. Her face was as white as a ghost, her eyes filled with shock. My fists began to shake at the very thought of what could have happened if I hadn't been here.

"She told you to back off, Odin," I growled, barely being able to keep it together.

A slick smile appeared on Odin's face as he tried to cover up what he had been about to do and took a step away from her.

"Patrick, Eliza and I were just discussing a deal," he lied to me, making me went to roll my eyes at his pathetic attempt.

"Oh yes, and what deal is that?" I asked, taking a step forward, secretly setting a challenge.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eliza take a step forward, getting ready to break up a fight if and when it happened. But she was in no position to.

Odin sucked in a breath, but failed to provide an answer.

"Your friend's leaving town," I informed him, "you should go help him."

He chuckled, setting my teeth on edge, "Your an idiot. Do you really think Konrad will leave town because you asked nicely? He's not leaving until he get what he wants."

"Well, that's too bad," I snapped, "because he can't stabilise New York."

"I wasn't talking about that."

My eyes automatically fell to Eliza, watching as her brows came together in confusion, refusing to believe the truth. But I knew it. I knew it from the very beginning. It was all about Eliza.

"He won't get that either," I vowed, holding my head up high, establishing my territory.

"You know what he said to me," Odin teased, rubbing his upper lip as he took two steps close to me, "he said, if he can't have her, no body, else, can."

My whole body was lit on fire. Images of me, shooting Odin straight between the eyes, or chaining him in a chair and engraving patterns in his arms with a knife filled my head. Next came the images of Konrad. Stringing him up by his ankles and letting him bleed out slowly. But for the moment, none of that seemed important.

What was important was the woman that was trembling and frozen to the spot.

Spitting in his face, I growled, "if I see your face around my wife again, I will personally put a bullet in your head. Now, get out."

Odin was still for a moment, tempted to test me. But we both knew who would win the fight. Shaking his head with a scoff, he walked out of the room.

Eliza let out a breath once he was gone, and finally my mind could finally focus on her. For a second, neither of us could speak as we tried to comprehend what could have happened if I hadn't had been here.

"Must I always be fighting off other men," I joked, my voice weak and full of air.

A sad laugh escaped her lips as her eyes filled with tears. I opened up my arms for her and in a second, she was in them, shaking and holding me tight.

"Thanks god you came," she mumbled into my chest, "he was going to -."

"Shh, he wasn't, he wasn't," I whispered, rubbing my fingers through her hair, "you would have done something before that."

We both chose to believe that because neither of us could handle the thought of what could have happened if I hadn't come. The same thing that would have happened if I hadn't turned up at the docks when I did, less than a year before.

There was an idea I had once, when we both needed time to breath and be together. I think we needed it again.

"How about, tonight, I break out the wine and we go take a dip for a few hours?" I suggested, trying to find any way to make her feel better.

"Like the old days," she smiled, peeking up at me.

I sighed, taking hold of all the precious memory, "yeah, like the old days."