Luciano | Book I ✓

Chapter Six

Authors Note: Thank you all for the feedback on the last chapter! It's likely I'll continue writing the story in Faith's POV. Read my ending comments... Enjoy!

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The plane was indeed gorgeous.  I had slept for about an hour, before stirring and waking up.  I walked around the 'living room' section of the private jet, running my hand along the furniture and wood.

There were decorative pictures on the wall, but only one of them caught my attention. The picture was hung right above the sofa in a tan wooden frame. The picture itself looked old and time worn, but you could still make out its contents. Six or seven men all dressed the same – black suits and matching fedoras – stood, in what looked like, a front yard. The picture was in all black and white, signaling its age. One man, standing off towards the left, looked just like Liam; allowing me to assume that was his father. "Hm," I spoke to myself, "That's interesting-"

"-What's interesting?"

I hadn't even turned around when I heard his voice. I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing; he had seriously scared me, once again. I whirled around, my arms already folded as I faced Liam once more. Tilting my head, I looked up at him, thinking of something to say. His eyebrows remained raised, waiting for me to answer his question. "Mr. Luciano," I licked my lips, "In all due respect, can you make noise? Or is that not physically possible for you?" I shifted my weight off my left foot, falling back a tad. The move was unnoticeable, but allowed me to inch myself away from him. I didn't know what he was going to say.

I could've sworn I saw the corner of Luciano's lips twitch, aching to form into a slight smile – possibly a smirk. "Call me Liam," He finally said, nodding. Luciano turned on a dime as he walked over towards the drink table, gently taking the wine out of ice. I watched curiously, occasionally standing on my tippy-toes to see what he was doing.

So, does this mean we're on a first name basis now?

I cleared my throat as his back was towards me. "You can call me Faith," Liam didn't respond as I dropped down on the sofa, sighing.

"Do you drink?" Moments had passed as I watched Liam crack open the expensive bottle of red wine.

"Yeah, water."

My response took him by surprise, and I was attempting to suppress a smile as he turned around, the glass halfway to his lips.  Liam looks around the plane, averting his gaze from mine before allowing his eyes to land on me, "Are you always a smartass?"

"No, I usually take a day or two off."

He snorts and rests his glass down, bending over to reach inside his miniature fridge.  He pulls out a chilled bottle of water and rests it on a coaster that sat on the coffee table.  Quietly, I watch as he slides all the way down to the other end of the sofa, adjusts his suit pants, and sits down - as far away from me as possible.

"No," I answered honestly, meeting his gaze. "I don't." He didn't look as surprised as I thought he would as he screwed the cap back on.

He brought the refreshing wine to his lips, parting them as he allowed the wine to slip past them and slither down his throat. The drink quenched his immediate thirst.  He smacks his lips together and leaned back, before finally turning and looking at me. "Ms. Crawford, did anyone tell you that staring at others is rude?"

My face flushed as I turned away; shit. I never wanted to get caught staring at him; all that did was make him look more powerful than me, something I didn't want. I kept my eyes on the carpeted floor, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Yet, I couldn't get that shaky feeling to go away – he was staring, and staring hard. I turned back to him – but he didn't turn away, nor did he blink – he simply stared. I felt like I was being analyzed under a microscope, his eyes falling on every blemish and imperfection that was on my face.