"Mum?" Leighton whispered, her voice cracking. Hot tears pooled at the corners of her eyes.
"Hey, Blue," a male baritone said from the other end.
Blue?
Her breath caught. Familiar, too familiar. Only one person had ever called her that.
Elias Crowe.
"Mr. Crowe?" She glanced toward Adrian, who had just slid a second plate of chicken Alfredo into the microwave.
"What the hell?" Her voice dropped.
"Sorry," Elias said quietly. "That scream you heard, it was my alarm. Thought I'd fixed it."
"I thought you were dead. Father told me you were dead," she said bluntly.
Adrian motioned to her. She mouthed be right back.
He nodded, and within seconds she was halfway up the stairs.
"Yeah… about that," Elias exhaled. "We'll talk. Maybe another day, alright?"
"Alright," Leighton said, though doubt shadowed her voice.
"Your mum asked to speak with you."
"Why didn't she call me herself?" Leighton snapped.
"That, she'll tell you herself once I put the call across. You've got less than three minutes before the call gets traced."
Leighton swallowed.
"Okay."
++++++++++++++++++++++++
The white oak door creaked open as Dario slipped quietly into the room.
A man who looked barely sixty sat in front of the art-deco arched window, his back to the door. He wore a maroon robe. An empty white mug rested on the ebony stool beside him.
Dario cleared his throat. "Don Moretti?"
"Dario?" Vittorio asked without looking. His voice was hoarse. "Is that Dario?"
"Yes." Dario carefully shut the door behind him.
Vittorio swiveled on his brown leather office chair to face him. He smiled weakly.
Dario cringed. He could barely remember his father ever smiling, especially not at him.
What had changed?
"Come sit," Vittorio said, beckoning to him.
Dario raised a brow in reply.
"Here," he added, tapping the spot in front of him.
Wordlessly, Dario obeyed.
After two minutes of uninterrupted silence, Vittorio finally spoke. "Would you like to know why I told the pretty nurse to move my chair closer to the window?"
Pretty? Nurse? Seriously? Wasn't he too old for that? Dario frowned at the thought.
Vittorio pretended not to notice. He wasn't sure whether Dario was offended by the comment, or by the conversation itself.
"I'll tell you anyway," he continued. "The view from here reminds me I haven't completely lost my manhood, that I'm still in control of my house. My house…" He paused and glanced at Dario, whose face showed no emotion.
"Bianca doesn't tell me much beyond what I can see from here. I believe she doesn't want me worrying."
Dario scoffed.
"Was it something I said?"
"No, sir." Dario replied flatly.
"Anyway, that isn't why I called you here. How have you been?"
Dario's eyes widened. "I've been well, sir," he stuttered.
"And business?"
"It's been going well too. Just a few hitches I need to fix, but don't worry, I'll sort it out sir, as always"
"Mm. Of course you'd do just that. And don't call me sir, call me dad."
Dario's brow shot up. He struggled to process what was happening.
"Sure…" Vittorio prompted, raising his brows at him.
"Dad," Dario said at last, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
"This is a heart to heart talk between us. Father. And son." He smiled.
Dario nodded.
"Dario, I'm not getting any younger, and neither are you."
"Okay?"
"The board has asked again that I give them an heir. The next don…the next me."
So, that was what this was about. Finding his replacement. Dario nodded slightly.
"Nico's the next you, if you want my opinion," he said. "He spends half his time proving his manhood to every woman he meets, and the other half running his little operation with his friends. Which already makes him more of a 'man' than you in their eyes." Dario said, voice laced with sarcasm.
Vittorio leaned in. " Is there something I'm missing?"
Dario stood up at once. " No. What I'm saying is that Nico's the better candidate here."
"No, he's not. I don't want Nico to be heir. And I know…"
"Why not?" Dario cut in, staring at Vittorio.
+++++++++++++++++++
"Hello mum?"
"Sweetheart, how have you been?" Evelyn's voice came weakly through the line.
"Mum." Leighton breathed out, relief washing over her.
"Elias Crowe? How come? I'm doing fine mum, how are you?" Leighton rushed, adrenaline pumped through her veins. Her last question hinted more concern.
"I am well, dear."
Leighton closed her eyes for a moment.
"It's been a while since I heard from you… let alone seen you," Evelyn added softly. "When do you intend on coming home?"
"I… I don't know," Leighton murmured, biting her lower lip. "But soon. I'll be home soon."
She hesitated.
"How about your physician? Has he been coming?"
"Yes dear" Evelyn replied without a hitch. The lie came too easily, she didn't want her getting all worried.
"You know Dad stopped paying him… for reasons best known to him," Leighton sighed. She glanced over the bannister, Adrian was watching the news. One takeout plate sat empty on the table. Another one beside it, untouched.
She sighed.
"So the doctor complained to me, I had to take over his bills."
For a second she didn't hear Evelyn say anything.
"Mum?"
Nothing. Just faint murmurs. Distant. Wrong.
Leighton paused.
"Mum, are you there?"
More muffled voices. A door slammed.
Her chest tightened.
"Are you alright mum?"
Still no answer.
"Where is she?" a man's voice snapped in the background.
Leighton froze.
"Bring her and the doctor to me."
Her heart stopped.
The line went dead.
Her phone slipped from her hand as she dropped to the floor, tears spilling before she could stop them. She pressed a shaking hand over her mouth and cried quietly.
++++++++++++++++++++++
Few moments later…
Leighton descended the stairs, this time in a white bathrobe. She'd washed her face earlier; she didn't want Adrian to suspect anything.
His pity wasn't what she needed right now.
She sank into the couch with a sigh.
"You alright?" Adrian asked, looking briefly at her.
"Yeah sure." Her voice came out a little too fast.
"Still hungry?"
"Guess I'll eat later."
She forced a smile. Adrian nodded.
He could tell something was off. But it wasn't his place to figure that out.
Silence settled over the room. Only the journalist's voice filled the space from the TV. Minutes crawled by.
Adrian's phone beeped. His alarm.
"Oh. Guess I have to get going." He turned it off and stood. Leighton rose with him.
"Uh… I've got this case. I'm back on Volvoka's case."
"You've always been on that case," Leighton muttered, rolling her eyes.
"She asked me to represent her this time. The retrial's next week."
"You're still on the case, just like she requested and there'll be a review this weekend. Sunday, hopefully."
Leighton mouthed an "oh." They walked toward the door.
He opened the door, then paused and turned back to her.
"Are you sure you're okay?" His brows drew together.
"I'm okay. I'll be there for the review on Sunday."
Her tone was calm, too calm.
He searched her eyes, like he was looking for something she wasn't ready to say. Then he smiled faintly.
"Can I?" He motioned toward her forehead.
"No."
He laughed softly. "Alright."
He kissed his palm and pressed it lightly to her forehead.
He was halfway down the driveway before she could react and probably hit him.
"Bye Leigh" he called with a smirk as he got into his car.
Leighton pouted at him, watching until his car disappeared.
She slipped back inside, closed the door, and leaned against it.
What's really going on, Mum? What are you not telling me?
With a shaky breath, she pushed herself upstairs and headed straight to the shower.
When she was done, she pulled on a short red gown and headed for the club.
She needed a drink.
++++++++++++++++++++
"Why not? Dad?" Dario stood up.
"I know you wouldn't want that when you get into my shoes." Vittorio paused, cleared his throat.
"You could always become the heir and find out for yourself." He attempted a wink.
Dario stared blankly, then sat back down.
"Um…another thing. The board will be having a meeting on Friday,"
"That's next week?" Dario cut in.
"Yes. And they'll present their candidate while I present mine. The board proposed that if I'm to make you heir… you'd be a stronger choice if you were married. Or at least engaged."
Dario looked at him sharply.
"Married? In a week?"
"Yes son."
Dario gave a short, nervous chuckle. "That's impossible. If I were Nico, three days would've been generous. I barely know any woman I could wife up in a week. If this is some contest, I'm out." He began to stand when Vittorio grabbed his wrist.
"I know, as impossible as it may seem, you are the heir and you don't get to make promises but…" he leaned in, eyes pleading. "Just promise me you'll keep my legacy. I know I don't deserve anything from you, Dario… but that would be enough."
He coughed.
Dario froze, staring at him.
"Are you dying?" The words slipped out.
Vittorio laughed then broke into a violent coughing fit.
"Are you alright?" Dario rushed forward. Another cough, this time blood splattered across Dario's cheek.
He wiped it.
Blood.
"Someone call the nurse!" he shouted, stumbling toward the door.
"Where the hell is the damn nurse!! Where the hell is she!" He yelled, pacing infront of the room.
"The hell do they get paid for, huh?!"
A petite woman hurried toward him.
"Are you…"
"Sir, I need you to leave," she cut in, brushing past him into the room.
Dario followed. "I…"
"Please leave so I can do my job." Her tone was firm, cold.
Dario glared at her, shocked at the audacity but Vittorio had stopped coughing… and his body had begun to seize.
"Dario…?" Luca's voice came from the doorway. He had been standing there longer than either of them realized.
Dario exhaled shakily and stepped out of the room.
The nurse shut the door behind him.
He stared at the door… then at Luca.