Chapter 41: XXXVII

— Rori —

It takes Xavi a moment to register Teddy's words, and then another moment to process that said brother is standing before him.

As his eyes meet Eden's for the first time, i see for myself just how quickly he assesses the situation and reaches a conclusion given that he hardly inspects the man's appearance.

I suppose by now, having been a member of our family for twenty five years, unexpected first meetings with other members of said family are simply an inconvenience.

That's not to say that this is not the first time this has happened to my guardian. Simply that it makes sense.

"No," he says, as if reprimanding all of us who stand in the foyer. "This is not happening."

"Xavi, you left me to handle things," Wyatt begins, attuned to his brother's animosity.

"I just passed Alfonso and Christian as i was pulling into the driveway, and now you mean to tell me you've also allowed a stranger into our home between the time i left the house this morning and now? How on earth is that handling things?"

I glance up at my twenty-three year old brother, as if to telepathically say 'Who's going to tell him about the broken dishware?' He, of course, pays me no mind.

"They came here unannounced, okay? Eden, included. He said Lorenzo sent him, something about a miscommunication—"

"Breakfast," Eden says with a nod as he scratches his nose, as if to remind Wyatt of what led him here, not at all affected by Xavi's taking offence with his presence.

"—breakfast," Wyatt repeats. "He was told to join us for breakfast," he informs Xavi.

Our brother practically laughs at this.

"What, here?" Xavi asks, baffled. "This Lorenzo Antonelli sent you to meet us here? In our home?"

"I believe we reached that conclusion," Eden comments with a taut, barely present smile, his tone slightly condescending as he remains unaffected by Xavi's reaction.

"And how exactly did he acquire our address to begin with?" Xavi asks him.

"I imagine he knew your address to begin with," Eden remarks.

Teddy huffs in snide amusement, following with a comment which is akin to what the rest of us are already thinking.

"Well," he pauses, "there's another thing brother dearest chose not to discuss with us."

"Speaking of which, where are Zephaniah and Yakov?" Wyatt asks he and Xavi. "I called a family meeting, did i not?"

"Family meeting," Xavi scoffs. "Had i known you meant literally—"

"We're here," the voice of Yakov calls out in, as always, a timely manner. "What's going on?"

Our heads turn at this announcement.

Zephaniah has not quite shut the door behind him as Yakov expectantly glances around the foyer, very quickly spotting the unfamiliar man in the room, whose presence he acknowledges by uttering a simple "Ah."

"What is it?" Zephaniah asks, facing his brother with furrowed brows. Following Yakov's line of vision, he soon sees for himself what 'it' is. "Ah," he mimics, his tone a touch more wintry.

No one says anything.

I shift my gaze to Eden, who doesn't let on but who is staring at our brothers — more notably, Zephaniah — and then i revert my gaze to the latter, patiently awaiting his calculated reaction.

"This'll be good," Teddy mutters to himself, distracting me momentarily, and i don't fail to notice the smirk tugging at his lips as i face him.

I shake my head as i face Zephaniah once more.

He could be in one of two minds, which means he could act in one of two ways.

Logical, or...

"What is the meaning of this?" he asks, paying Wyatt a particularly cheerful glance that in fact does nothing to conceal his true nature.

"You're being demoted," Teddy interjects before the latter can so much as get a word in, his tone overtly mocking as he beams at our eldest brother. He then points in Eden's direction as he adds, "You see, this guy—"

"Thank you, Teddy, but i'm sure i can hazard a guess," Zephaniah swiftly cuts him off.

Our brother pouts at him.

"Someone not so happy about being a little brother?"

I lower my head to hide the amused expression on my face as Zephaniah involuntarily grimaces at Teddy's belittling words.

"Zephaniah. Yakov," Eden greets the two with a nod, his tone reserved.

I wait for him to extend his hand for the eldest of us to shake, only he doesn't. In fact, his hands stay firmly put at his sides. I suppose he gave up the formalities the moment Teddy burst in here, commanding everyone's attention with the obnoxious attitude that follows him everywhere he goes.

However, the way he looks at the patriarch of our family is as similarly aloof to the way his twin brother had.

"Did your brother send you here?" Zephaniah asks him instantaneously.

Eden nods.

"I will assume you mean Lorenzo," he says.

"I had no idea we were to expect you," Zephaniah comments, wryly.

"For breakfast, yes," Eden remarks, ignoring his obvious disdain. "A simple misunderstanding," he adds with a nonchalant shrug.

I don't fail to notice that Eden does not feel the need to inform Zephaniah that Lorenzo sending him here was a ruse, and instead uses this patient manner with him, as though said misunderstanding is a result of my brother's own incompetence.

"Hm." The expression Zephaniah wears shows Eden's words are nonetheless transparent to him. "I trust my younger siblings took care not to let you starve?"

"I have drank," he responds.

"Very well," Zephaniah acknowledges. "And now you wish to eat?"

"I don't want to inconvenience your family anymore so than already," Eden says.

"Well, i'm afraid it's too late for that," Zephaniah counters with a bitter smile.

"Nonetheless, i believe it is important for the eleven of us to have a discussion."

"You believe, or your older brothers?"

Once again, Eden's expression displays a small semblance of knowing amusement as Zephaniah highlights Lorenzo and Damiano's seniority. Or perhaps simply because he has so quickly brought the latter into the conversation.

"I have not spoken to Damiano if that is what you are concerned about," Eden assures him. "At the end of the day, we are going to get to know one another. Whether this is something you want or not. May as well pay attention to the elephant..."

I narrow my eyes.

"In the room?" Teddy adds.

"Sorry?" Eden responds.

Teddy looks him up and down, shaking his head in an uncaring manner. "Forget it," he says.

"Whatever," Zephaniah interjects. "You want to discuss the obvious, we will discuss the obvious. You show up here unbeknownst to me, but know that this is my house and so this will play out on my terms. Capisce?"

Eden quirks an eyebrow at my brother's demands, saying nothing at first.

I wonder if he thinks Zephaniah is full of it. I hope he remembers that Zephaniah almost shot his twin brother and realises he is not.

I am still not certain that he was telling the truth about his plan being to bring temporary harm to Damiano.

"As you wish," comes Eden's response.

In return, Zephaniah offers him a smile of satisfaction. Then, without a word, he heads towards the living room where the voices of our siblings have now grown to be a rambunctious noise.

I spare the rest of my siblings a glance, shrugging as i take the liberty of being first to follow behind him. The noise doesn't falter as we enter the room.

Seamus and Quentin argue in Italian, shouting over one another, while Uvaldo lies in a reclined seat with his feet propped up, throwing some sort of bite sized food in the air before catching it in his mouth. Vinnie sits next to him and holds a controller in his hand, fully focused on the tv screen. Seamus has the other controller but has of course abandoned the game to argue with his brother. Both of them stand.

For some reason my twins cannot seem to argue without standing.

I roll my eyes at the four of them.

Brothers.

Only my interest is soon captured when i realise that Uvaldo is working his way through a packet of the Haribos Alfonso had warned each of them to stay away from not even two hours ago.

"Che Cazzo!" i shout at him, though it can hardly be heard over the racket that is Seamus and Quentin. "Those are mine!"

As suspected, my brother pays me no mind. It is not like Zephaniah is of any help, as he simply stands to my left with his arms folded in an unimpressed manner, observing my twins argument with half-hearted curiosity as he waits for our siblings to become aware his presence.

This, of course, does not take long at all, but it's safe to say i am completely taken aback by the way the finality of the formers' dispute plays out...

Quentin is quick to rein in his hostility as he catches our eldest brother's gaze, backing away from Seamus without so much as acknowledging his last retort.

"You are so pathetically predictable, little Quenny." Seamus laughs in his face. "Backing down from an argument because of a disapproving look from your big brother?" he mocks, his tone dripping with condescension. "God, i could just tear up. How adorable."

I blink, and Quentin has already turned on his heel so he is facing Seamus once more. Before i can so much as process what is going on, Quentin lunges forward and yanks Seamus by the neck of his shirt, gripping onto it with such threat as he levels our triplet with a look of sheer malice.

"Don't get it twisted, Ritardare," he spits. "You know as well as i that Zephaniah would pay to see me beat you to a pulp."

Seamus scoffs at our brother's newfound boldness.

"What, you don't think i could?" Quentin asks him.

"You're a joke," Seamus persists.

"Well let's find out who's the real laughing stock, figlio di puttana."

Quentin shoves Seamus towards the coffee table with such force, sending him stumbling, but before either can escalate the situation, Teddy joins us, as if summoned by the promise of a fight.

"Didn't anyone teach you kids to keep your hands to yourself?" Teddy tsks.

All four of the boys stare at him in bewilderment as he approaches, leaning over Uvaldo to grab a handful of my chips.

"Quite the opposite..." Seamus responds, though it comes across as a half-hearted mumble.

I decide to pay attention to the expression of the others only now that Seamus and Quentin have stopped arguing, wondering why no one decided to intervene.

I reach my answer when i realise that Yakov, Xavi, and Wyatt are all facing Zephaniah with unimpressed expressions. Clearly they were counting on him to intervene.

God knows why.

On the contrary, Eden observes the youngest of my brothers with eyes that are both curious and judgmental; unashamedly so. As he blinks, and shakes his head, and silently scoffs to himself, it's almost as if i can see the cogs turning in his brain.

When i face the four once more, i see that they, too, are facing our eldest brother now, their expressions just as displeased as the rest.

Zephaniah simply uncrosses his arms, placing them in his pockets instead as he casts each and every one of them a look of arrogant insouciance.

"Why are you looking at me for answers?" he asks with a shrug.

"Seriously?" Vinnie counters.

"What am i, a walking encyclopaedia? Last i checked that was Yakov. I'm sure he begged Ded Moroz to bring him one for his fifth New Year's Eve, nerd that he is."

Ah, yes. Ded Moroz, or Grandfather Frost, the counterpart of the West's beloved Santa Claus.

We don't typically hold Christmas to the same standard back home. Instead, New Year's Eve is prioritised, though there are similar traditions in place.

If kids are lucky, he will leave them a gift under the new year tree before new year's day arrives. Sometimes he even pays them a visit himself in the days leading up to the new year. Should their parents be able to afford his fee, that is.

I am fortunate enough to say that Ded Moroz always left something for me. The same goes for the rest of us younger siblings. I cannot be sure if that is the case for the older boys, as i realise now that it's likely the gifts we received were a result of them, and perhaps other parents or Babushkas in our neighbourhood. Mind you, we weren't exactly welcome in any area we resided in.

At least when i was younger my brothers reassured me that Ded Moroz does not leave anything for 'grown-up kids'. Now i see that's because they were kids playing at grown-ups.

Of course, we abandoned such traditions the moment we waved goodbye to Russia as our plane left the runway.

I can't say i minded all that much, though i do feel a sense of disappointment now as i reminisce. I guess when i was younger, i was overzealous to betray anything that made me Russian in the name of becoming the all-American girl, such as the rosy Annalise with her publicised picture-perfect family.

I didn't so much care about my Italian roots. If anything, that made me all the more popular here. Americans love to tell you about their Italian heritage, as though their deceased and decomposed ancestors being from Italy in any way equates to my deep-rooted bloodline.

With my Polish heritage, it was a rather similar circumstance. Though mine is less common, plenty of people here have a Polish last name, making it hardly noticeable. Not to mention the fact we have not had the opportunity to truly acknowledge this aspect of our DNA.

Everything in my life is overlooked by the dark, grey, looming cloud that is Russia. After all, the country could be a continent in itself. With its grandeur, as well as its power and brutality, how is one ever supposed to escape it?

I wonder what traditions pertaining to our culture, if any at all, Eden is bringing his children up with. Perhaps he is allowing them to live out the dream of my younger self, wherein their ostentatious Christmas tree is engulfed by more gifts than they know what to do with, and every holiday includes dressing in festive pyjamas, drinking a concerning amount of hot chocolate, watching only the best Christmas films, and a lingering smell of freshly baked gingerbread cookies.

I grit my teeth at the thought, swallowing the lump in my throat that i chalk down to dehydration.

I sure do feel sick.

"They're wondering why you didn't share with them the exciting news that i'm no longer in rehab," Teddy informs Zephaniah, snapping me back to reality. "The others are just wondering why you didn't do anything about dumb and dumbest."

I narrow my eyes.

Once again, as if Teddy is blessed with a sixth sense, his eyes divert to meet mine.

They narrow further.

"You're dumber," he explains.

"Yeah, i got that," i throw, sarcastically.

And Zephaniah confiscated your gun like he would have done a toy. What does that make you?

He smirks.

It's not even been twenty-four hours since he re-entered my life and he's already determined to be more of an asshole than before.

His day will come.

...At least i wasn't dumbest.

Once again, Zephaniah cannot care less.

"I'm sure you can figure things out amongst yourselves for once in your Godforsaken lives," he responds, a mocking lilt in his voice. "As for Seamus and Quentin...well, let's just say the latter was right," he says with a mirthful, almost proud, smirk on his face.

I shake my head.

He never does learn.

"What is it the two of you were arguing about to begin with, anyway?" i ask my twins, my tone less than impressed.

They turn to face each other, nothing but a spiteful glance shared.

"Don't remember," Seamus grumbles.

"What was that?" i press, despite having heard his response.

"I said i don't remember," he voices louder, but not necessarily with a shred of confidence, the two of them avoiding each other's gaze as well as my own.

"Yeah, that figures," i remark, scoldingly.

I refrain from bringing up what Christian and i discussed earlier in regard to how the two of them have been acting lately. Once again, i will have to brush the melodramatics of my family under the carpet.

"As you can see, Eden, our family unit is nothing short of functional," Uvaldo speaks up, continuing to snack on my chips.

The smile Eden gives him is fake and closed-lipped.

I bet he is counting his lucky stars that he was raised as one of three. I bet he is also wondering how on earth he is supposed to cope going forward, should we meet again.

"You appear to be a man of few words, Eden," Zephaniah notes, as he looks him up and down in an evidently scrutinising manner.

Eden shrugs.

"I'll speak if i have something worth saying," he reasons.

"Hm," Zephaniah muses. "You should advise your brother to do the same."

"I'm sure he handles himself just fine, Zephaniah," Eden counters.

"Oh, he handles himself. If that means endangering my little sister," Zephaniah continues.

"I never said his methods weren't questionable," Eden states. "I have apologised to your sister on his behalf. That i am more than happy to do. I don't think you, on the other hand, are owed an apology," he says. "Not in this circumstance."

"Needless to say, apologies fall short on deaf ears," Zephaniah retorts. "I don't expect anything from you except an explanation as to what purpose you being here serves."

Eden blinks. Ten pairs of eyes focus on his, awaiting his response

"Fair enough."

Oh.

"It is simple," Eden begins. "Lorenzo told me to come here and so i did. He thought it would be best that we meet, in light of recent circumstances. After all, we can expect to get to know one another."

"We can?" Vinnie interjects. "I'm not so sure that is a good idea."

Eden casts him an indifferent glance.

"I'm not so sure either, but it's not like we have much say," Eden tells him. "I have a wife and children to think about. The last thing i want is to risk endangering them by putting myself in a position where i am involved in the inner-workings of my family once more," he reasons. "That's not to say i'm against getting to know each of you as individuals, just that i do not condone the practices both Łabanowskis and Antonellis uphold."

"Aren't you considering that your son might one day succeed Lorenzo, should he not have any children of his own?" Zephaniah asks him.

"My son is four years old. He has yet to begin his schooling. This is not a matter that concerns me. Especially since it will not happen," he insists.

"I'm assuming Lorenzo is aware of this then?" Zephaniah asks, feigning an innocent tone.

"He has never given me reason to believe that he wishes for my son to be his successor. Why should he?" he answers. "After all, Damiano will likely have children in the future."

The space between Zephaniah's dark brows creases.

"That's right..." he muses, as though talking to himself. "Damiano is the second born."

By the sound of his voice, it seems as though he neglected to consider this piece of information until this very moment.

I narrow my eyes as i scrutinise his concentrated expression.

I know this expression like no other.

It's an expression i have only ever seen two men in my family exhibit to such an unnerving degree.

Because it is not only one of concentration but of calculation, and that was never a good sign in the case of our father or Zephaniah.

Neither men has ever failed in achieving what they set out to do. The difference is that one acted without a shred of humanity, and one was a victim of such actions.

"Zephaniah," i say, hoping to snap him out of whatever state of mind he is currently in.

He turns to face me with eyes that are indifferent.

"Should we sit or something? There's no reason for us all to have a discussion while standing in the middle of the living room, is there?"

His expression is unmoving for a moment, though he soon nods his head in agreement.

"You are right," he tells me.

"As always," i quip.

"Not quite," he argues, throwing me a sarcastic smile.

My twins return to where they must have previously been sitting, side by side as usual, as though they weren't at each other's throats only a moment ago.

Xavi and Wyatt make their way to the adjacent couch, and i sit in-between them.

Teddy sighs, reluctantly heading towards the couch opposite ours as Yakov does the same.

Zephaniah and Eden are left with the choice of two armchairs, and my brother simply stares at the latter until he takes it upon himself to sit down on the one to Quentin's left, Zephaniah making his way to the one closest to Uvaldo.

The eleven of us sit in silence for no more than a few seconds before someone speaks up.

"What now?" Teddy asks.

"We're supposed to get to know each other, no?" Uvaldo says.

"We already know each other," Seamus points out, facing Eden as he adds, "It's him who's a total stranger."

"A total stranger who abhors our family, mind you," Quentin adds, also facing him. "How do we know we can trust him?"

"We can't," Zephaniah, Vinnie, and Teddy respond at once, all glaring at him with blatant intrigue.

"I didn't say i abhorred your family," Eden argues. "That is not the message i am trying to get across...only that i do not support your way of making a living."

Teddy scoffs.

"And what is it you do?" he spouts. "Don't tell me you have some Saint like job..." his eyes widen. "You're not some cop, are you?" he presses. "That would explain why your family is so well-linked."

This time, it is Eden who scoffs.

"A cop?" he repeats, his tone one of disbelief. "You think i associate with cops? Just because i am above actively defying the law, it does not mean i support those who aim to enforce it," he says. "After all, i grew up looking over my shoulder."

"Oh, he's just like us!" Uvaldo mocks, predictably causing a few of the others to snicker in a juvenile manner.

"Clearly," Zephaniah remarks, sarcastically and in a way that is clearly unimpressed.

"Then what are you?" Quentin asks this time, looking him up and down.

"I work at a hospital, as an attending physician," comes Eden's nonchalant response.

My mouth drops.

"Ma che, dici sul serio?" i hear myself say, my tone one of disbelief.

Eden smiles lightly.

"You're a doctor?" Wyatt asks him, just as bemused.

"That is correct," Eden responds.

"You didn't mention anything earlier on," Wyatt points out.

Eden raises his eyebrows expectantly.

"Should i have?" he asks.

"Well, we were discussing my sister's health, were we not?" he reminds him. "You didn't once mention you were a doctor."

I glance at Wyatt in confusion.

"It didn't seem relevant at the time."

"Seriously?" Wyatt says. "I told you the nature of her injuries. Why would you being a legitimate doctor not be relevant?"

"What did you want me to say?" Eden shrugs. "I'm a doctor and here's my unsolicited advice which i'm sure your sister's own doctor has already provided you?"

"Well, when you put it like that." Wyatt sighs somewhat defeatedly, leaning back against his seat in resignation.

"You must've known he was a doctor?" Uvaldo asks Zephaniah. "Why the hell didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't know he was a doctor," Zephaniah admits.

"I don't understand," Uvaldo says. "You've met both Lorenzo and Damiano. Neither of them thought to mention it?"

"Eden was not yet a doctor when i met Lorenzo, and his future profession was hardly the nature of our conversation." Zephaniah rolls his eyes. "And i don't know. Damiano only mentioned it once, when we met years ago. I choose not to revisit our conversations and so, yes, maybe it slipped my mind."

"Unbelievable," Uvaldo scoffs with derision, his eyes diverting to meet Eden's as he looks him up and down with clear scrutiny. "A doctor in the family. How convenient."

"My wife too," Eden doesn't hesitate to inform us.

"Your wife is a doctor?" i ask him, tilting my head slightly with unabashed interest.

"Mhm." he nods, the amused look in his eyes reappearing once more at the sight of my bewilderment. "We met early on, during our studies. At university, that is. Now we work together, more or less. Only, i have my department to oversee, and she has her own."

"And so who raises your children?" i ask, innocently.

"We both do, but they have a nanny who takes care of them when we can't be there," he responds without hesitation to my blunt question, and i sense curious glances as a result of both mine and Eden's responses.

"I see," i muse.

Eden nods his head in acknowledgement.

At the revelation that my newfound half-brother lives not as a mobster, nor an aristocrat, but a doctor, my curiosity is piqued more than ever. Even more so at the revelation that, like him, his wife and mother of his children is a doctor.

It's not like it can't be done. I know it can. I have spent almost half of my life in The West now. Working mothers are nothing out of the ordinary. And yet the concept still seems so foreign to me in terms of the values i was surrounded by.

But wouldn't those values have been the same for Eden?

"What is your wife's name?" i ask him.

"Hannah," he responds.

"It's very pretty," i say, earnestly.

"I think so too," he agrees.

Hannah Łabanowski.

"And your children's names?"

"Isabella and Roberto," he tells me. "Though Roberto only answers to Bobby," he adds, rolling his eyes.

"They're nice too," i say. "Much better than ours."

He huffs with amusement.

"Well, i agree. My brothers got the normal names. For some reason, our mother looked at me and decided i was an Eden."

"I don't see anything wrong with it." i smile.

"Just that it is more common in the case of a girl...also it is generally out of place. Lorenzo, Damiano, and then Eden," he explains.

"Well, Rori is a boy's name more often than not," i point out. "How is it that she couldn't give her only daughter a feminine name?"

"We've crossed this topic a thousand times," Teddy says. "Nobody thought you were going to be a girl."

I roll my eyes.

"Well, it could be worse. I could've gotten your name," i retort.

"Please," he brushes me off. "I don't care for it. It goes down a real treat."

"What does that even mean?" i scoff.

"It means the soft and cuddly nature of my name does nothing to deter a girl from reciting it over and over like a mantra when we're—"

Xavi clears his throat in an abrupt and deliberate manner, fixing Teddy with a severe stare.

Teddy simply raises the corner of his mouth.

"I was going to say doing arts and crafts," he tells our brother, and i roll my eyes once more alongside Xavi and the others.

"Why do you insist on being crude?" Yakov asks him, narrowing his eyes at his younger brother in a disapproving manner.

"Please," Teddy scoffs. "Because your overreaction amuses me."

It is at this moment a ringtone is heard throughout the room, causing each of us to look around with questioning gazes until we notice Eden removing his phone from the pocket of his jeans.

Whoever's name appears on the screen causes him to close his eyes momentarily in a pained manner and sigh in frustration as he opens them once more.

"My brother calls," he tells us.

"Lorenzo?" Zephaniah asks, his tone understandably piqued.

"It was certainly not going to be Damiano," he responds, his eyebrows lifting in an unequivocal manner.

"Well, won't you answer?" Zephaniah presses.

Eden fixes him with a surprisingly hard stare.

"In my own time, no?" he says, looking our brother up and down.

I share a bemused look with both Seamus and Quentin.

Eden brings the phone to his ear a moment later, and the ten of us observe him with such a degree of intent only we are capable of.

"Lorenzo," he greets, stiffly. "...Yes, i'm here right now...Right, well then i fail to understand what the point of your call is..." he pauses, glancing around the room at our unrelenting stares. Suddenly, his eyes sharpen. "Speaker? You want me to put you on speaker? So you can say what, exactly?"

I can only imagine a sharp quip leaves Lorenzo's mouth for Eden to roll his eyes so vehemently.

"Great. Put him on speaker. Let us hear what he has to say," Zephaniah urges. "I, for one, think it must be particularly noteworthy.

I stare at my brother with dubiety. He has an awful penchant for using dry sarcasm and i cannot possibly tell if this is another such circumstance.

Nonetheless, Eden complies, putting his brother on speaker phone before he unceremoniously drops his phone onto the coffee table.

"Ciao," the voice of Lorenzo greets us. "I'll swiftly make my point. I would like all of my siblings to fly to Rome in two days time. It is important that we all meet, now that our family's past is catching up with us."

Zephaniah simply huffs in amusement, and i don't know how to react.

"Not possible," he says.

"Who said that?" Lorenzo asks.

"Zephaniah," Eden tells him. "I agree with him, Enzo — and, by the way, this is the first i'm hearing of this," he tells the rest of us. "I took only two days off work. I am supposed to fly back to Chicago tonight. Not to mention, i have a family of my own."

"Nonsense," Lorenzo argues. "Eden, you see your family all year round. Here, you have just met the children of our estranged mother. Now they will come to Italy to meet Damiano and I. What does it look like if you are not in attendance?" he asks.

Eden furrows his eyebrows in bemusement; a kind of patient bemusement that suggests he is used to his brother talking in such a manner.

I am surprised though, upon hearing Lorenzo's voice for the first time. His Italian accent comes through only slightly, but one would think he, too, had spent time in America.

"I don't know, Lorenzo," he takes a subtly sarcastic tone. "It looks like i'm with them right now, the call is on speaker, and they heard you refer to them as the children of our estranged mother."

"Well they are, so i don't think such a statement will offend them," Lorenzo counters. "How is the girl?"

Eden faces me.

"How are you, Rori?" he asks me.

"Fine?" i mumble.

"Rori is fine," Eden informs him, placing emphasis on my name.

"Good," Lorenzo acknowledges. "That's good. So she can travel," he concludes. "In that case, we should have no issues."

"I certainly wouldn't advise that she travel," Eden argues.

"You will be able to keep an eye on her physical health," Lorenzo points out.

"On the subject of work, i told you a moment ago i am due to return," Eden persists.

"You make a decent salary either way, do you not?" Lorenzo asks him.

"Yes, but—"

"And you are able to extend your leave, are you not?" Lorenzo continues.

"Yes," Eden answers with a begrudging tone.

"Well then i shall see you in two days time," Lorenzo insists. "All of you. And don't worry about how you will get here or where you will stay. I'll have someone send you the details."

"This has not been agreed upon," Zephaniah interjects, raising his voice so Lorenzo can hear him loud and clear.

"Zephaniah, i made it known to you last week that we would be meeting at some point in light of recent events."

"Not that you would demand that we fly to another continent at such short notice," Zephaniah responds, his tone clipped.

"The very idea of short notice is that one's decision wasn't predetermined," Lorenzo points out. "Tell me, Zephaniah, do you consider yourself to be someone who does not make spur of the moment choices? Would me demanding that you fly to another continent at such short notice disrupt whatever you have going on? If that is the case, then i will remind you of one recent spontaneous desire of yours to shoot my brother. Of course, you ended up shooting your baby sister instead. Wouldn't you say that a circumstance like that warrants me to make spontaneous decisions of my own for the sake of our family?"

My eyes widen at not only Lorenzo's authoritative words, but at his delivery, as if he had been anticipating that Zephaniah would challenge him.

"I think you'll find my decision to shoot Damiano was not a spontaneous desire but one i had been thinking long and hard about on many full moons."

On the other hand, Zephaniah's instantaneous quip does not surprise me. We all know that he must get the last word.

"And what of the kids' schooling?" Yakov speaks up.

"And what of it?," Lorenzo echoes.

"You expect them to miss school?" Yakov asks him.

"I conducted plenty of my schooling from the comfort of a jet. I also graduated top of my class," Lorenzo reasons.

"He also had several private tutors and generous donations granted to the school on his behalf," Eden mutters for our sake.

"It would be in your best interest to do as i say," Lorenzo continues.

"And why is that?" Zephaniah presses,  sounding exasperated.

"It is my understanding that you want my father gone for good," Lorenzo says.

There is silence on our end, and every one of us stare at Zephaniah, who freezes in place as his eyes fixate on the screen of Eden's phone.

"You know fine well what i wish for your father," Zephaniah seethes.

"Well then you must know that i have the power to make that happen. Or not happen, equally. The choice is yours."

My brother scoffs.

"I would be an idiot of his own league to believe you would have your father executed," Zephaniah retorts.

"Then let me be clear with you," Lorenzo continues. "If you ever attempt anything shady, you can kiss America and the life you have built there goodbye."

Once again, Zephaniah is unmoving, his face impassive while the rest of us grip the edge of our seats.

I relax as his face splits into a mocking grin.

"Do i hear you threatening to deport me and my baby siblings per my misdemeanour?" Zephaniah questions him in a similarly mocking tone.

"No, Zephaniah, this warning is for you and you alone. If you haven't noticed, you're somewhat of a common denominator in this family. Where lives are at stake, you're undoubtedly in the mix. If i were to eliminate you, i would be eliminating part of a bigger problem. I am telling you this because i care about the welfare of our family. You see, if you go behind my back when it comes to Henryk, that won't result in a good outcome for anyone."

"I know exactly what kind of an outcome his demise will result in and that is nothing short of positive in the long-term. You have the power to bury it, just as i will bury him. You have the power to bury everything."

"The key takeaway here is that i have the power," Lorenzo tells him, his tone matter-of-fact. "This is something we will discuss further in person, when you and your siblings come to Rome. We can all expect to get to know one another. Damiano too. Send Rori my best."