The room was heavy with silence, the air still carrying the lingering tension from moments before.
Rowan remained positioned over Esme, his dark gaze locked onto hers.
Breaking the quiet, Esme let out a soft, sluggish laugh.
“Do you want to kiss me, Mr.
Carven?” Rowan’s lips curved into a quiet smile as he looked down at her.
“Yes.
Every day, and every single time…
but only when you’re better.” Esme scoffed, her voice thick and heavy with sleep.
“How are you so sure you’ll even get the chance when I’m better?” “We can find out when you get better,” Rowan replied smoothly.
She chuckled, tilting her head against the mattress.
“Well…
you have an opportunity right now.” Rowan straightened his spine, pulling himself back slightly.
“It isn’t a good opportunity, Mrs.
Carven.” Esme sat up, her brow furrowing into a childish pout.
“Not fair.” Leaning down, Rowan gently pressed a brief, respectful kiss against her cheek.
Before she could protest further, he shifted his weight, gathering her up effortlessly into his arms.
“You kissed my cheek,” Esme muttered, her head resting against his shoulder.
A small smile touched her lips.
“Your arms are so strong…
but you’re so stupid.” He let out a low chuckle, stepping toward the bedroom door.
“I’m really going to kill you,” she murmured as he carried her out into the hallway.
“Yes, ma’am” “You’re going to burn in hell,” she added as he began navigating the broad staircase.
Rowan glanced down at her, his expression unreadable.
“Only if you come with me.” “No!” Esme protested, her voice echoing softly down the stairwell.
“I’m an angel.
I’m going to fly in heaven.” “Then I’ll go with you there instead,” he murmured.
She scoffed, her eyelids growing heavier by the second.
“Yeah, right.
Demons aren’t allowed in heaven, silly…” Her words trailed off, becoming slurred as he carried her through the front doors and out into the cool night air of the courtyard.
A sleek black sedan was idling near the steps.
A guard immediately stepped forward, holding the rear door open.
“Do not take me away, Mr.
Mafia,” Esme whispered, her strength completely fading.
“I wanna fly…” Her eyes closed, her body going entirely limp against his chest as unconsciousness finally took her.
Rowan slid into the back seat with her, pulling the door shut behind them as the car smoothly accelerated out of the estate gates.
…
Morning arrived in a blur of gray sunlight.
Two vehicles rolled through the front gates in tight formation, their tires crunching against the gravel driveway.
As the primary car came to a stop in the courtyard, Rowan stepped out and immediately moved around to open the passenger side.
Before his hand could touch the handle, the door pushed open from the inside.
Esme stepped out, casting a sharp glare in his direction.
“I can open it on my own,” she snapped.
Rowan smirked, stepping back to give her space without arguing.
Behind them, the door of the second vehicle opened, and a private nurse stepped out, quickly walking over to assist.
Esme took a single step forward and staggered, her balance failing her.
Rowan instinctively reached out to steady her, but she aggressively yanked her arm out of his grip.
“Don’t you dare touch me,” she said coldly, her face hardening into an irritated scowl.
Turning away from him, she gestured to the attendant.
“Nurse, please help me.” Rowan tilted his head, watching her with quiet amusement as she pointedly ignored him.
The nurse stepped in, offering a firm arm for support.
Rowan walked ahead, pushing open the grand front doors and holding them wide.
“You still don’t need my help?” he said quietly as she passed.
Esme let out a sharp hiss of annoyance, keeping her eyes fixed firmly ahead as the nurse guided her into the foyer.
Rowan followed them inside, pulling the door shut behind him.
Before they could reach the stairs, a figure rose abruptly from one of the living room couches.
Eli stood before them, looking battered and disheveled.
White bandages were plastered across his forehead and jaw, a thick brace supported one leg, and his left eye was swollen shut, surrounded by deep purple bruising.
“Whoa,” Esme muttered, pausing mid-step.
Rowan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took in his brother’s condition.
Eli took a trembling step forward, his voice rising in panicked desperation.
“Rowan…
look at me!
One of your enemies attacked me!” Rowan didn’t immediately respond.
Turning to the nurse, his voice remained entirely calm.
“Take Mrs.
Carven up to her room.” The nurse nodded, carefully guiding a reluctant Esme toward the staircase.
Esme glanced back over her shoulder, watching the interaction as Eli continued his frantic explanation.
“Look at me, Rowan!” Eli demanded, gesturing wildly to his bruised face.
“I was brutally beaten!
They beat me up for hours!” Rowan evaluated him from head to toe, his posture relaxed, his hands resting casually in his pockets.
“You are heavily injured, I must admit.
But you aren’t dead, nor are you in a wheelchair.” Eli’s open eye widened in disbelief.
“Is that really all you have to say?!” Rowan let out a slow sigh.
“Do you remember their faces?” Eli shook his head rapidly, then winced from the movement.
“No!
They put something over my head before I could see anything.
And…
I was drunk.” Rowan scoffed, a dark look crossing his features.
“Of course you were.” “What are we going to do about this?” Eli pressed, taking another step closer.
Rowan raised a single eyebrow.
“We?” Eli caught himself, clearing his throat awkwardly.
“Ah…
sorry.
I meant, what are you going to do?” “Do you remember where they took you?
Any detail at all that might be useful?” “No,” Eli insisted.
“I lost consciousness.
When I woke up, I was dumped near a hospital entrance.
That’s it.” “Then I’m guessing whoever did this actually liked you,” Rowan said dryly.
He turned on his heel, preparing to walk away.
“Rowan!
Wait!” Eli called out.
“Aren’t you going to hunt them down?!” Rowan paused, turning his head slightly.
“You have no solid information, Eli.
The people who did this were likely just a small gang of local street thugs.” “Small?!” Eli whispered, offended.
“I will look into it and see who thought it was a good idea to lay a hand on my brother,” Rowan said coldly, his tone leaving no room for further debate.
Eli’s defensive posture instantly melted into a relieved smile.
“Thank you, brother.
I knew you’d handle it.” Rowan tilted his head, inspecting him once more.
“Do you owe anyone money?” Eli shook his head quickly.
“No!
Well…
yes, a few minor debts, but definitely not to anyone dangerous enough to do this.” “Right,” Rowan said simply.
He stepped toward the grand staircase, pausing at the bottom step without turning around.
“In the meantime…
I need you to wash and detail the car in the courtyard.
I’m leaving for a meeting in thirty minutes.” Eli’s jaw dropped.
“What?!
Rowan, look at me…
I’m injured!” Rowan glanced back, his eyes dropping to Eli’s hands.
“Your hands look perfectly fine.” Eli stood frozen for a moment.
He forced a strained, rigid smile onto his face, swallowing his anger.
“Alright.
Fine.” Rowan continued up the stairs without another word.
The moment Rowan disappeared around the landing, the smile vanished from Eli’s face.
He stared up at the empty staircase, his expression darkening into a bitter glare.
“Fucking idiot,” Eli muttered under his breath, adjusting the bandage on his forehead.
“Whatever.
Let him play the big boss.
That’s the whole point of having a mafia brother anyway…
I’ll just sit back while he tracks those bastards down and makes them pay.” CREATORS’ THOUGHTS Jael123 Who’s the idiot, like Eli bro come onnnnn!!