Potere | Book II ✓

xxxv | glory and power

xxxv | glory and power

a/n: please read ending a/n for important info !!

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A week went by.

We left Russia. But I would come to learn that Russia would never leave us. There was exhaustion. There was jetlag. There was pain medication for my broken right arm and sleep, for my diagnosed concussion. I don't remember much of the week, but there were a few moments that I couldn't forget.

Vincenzo knew the minute we walked through the doorway.

Federico hadn't spoken the entire eleven-hour flight back. He didn't speak when he turned the corner and saw Vincenzo. He didn't have to. He thought he had cried all the tears he had left, but when he leaned into Vincenzo, he cried more. Vince offered a hug. Federico accepted it.

They had danced a dance designed specifically for them, just as Rosalie and Michael, had. But just like Michael, who anticipated the ending, prepared to swing Rosalie into the arms of someone who could love her and deserved her love—Federico did the same. He steps away, swipes at the tears on his face, and he smiles. Gabriel steps forward. The timing, perfect. Like the changing of the guard.

Gabriel shifted, nervous. He glanced over at Federico, who had joined him at his side. He felt me nudge him, and glanced down at me, on his other. Vincenzo was the only gaze he couldn't hold. "I don't know what to say.

"Anything." I told him, offering the same advice that I had given Crixus. "Everything. Anything you want him to know." The only difference being that one was about to lose his friend, while Gabriel was about to gain his father.

"I know I look like mom." Gabriel told Vincenzo after a moments pause. He looked down, shuffled his feet. His hand began to shake. He grabbed it with the other to calm it down. "But I got your hair."

He looked up again. "And your rage," Diavolo finished.

Vincenzo coughs out a laugh, taking a hesitant step forward. He nods quickly, briefly taking in the face of the son he never got to meet. "Those were always my better qualities."

Gabriel cracked a smile, noticed Vincenzo's hesitancy, and softly added, "You can hug me."

Vincenzo did. He pulled Gabriel into the gentlest of hugs, only to be surprised when Gabriel hugged him back. Vincenzo lifted his head, just long enough to catch Federico's eye, to mouth his sincerest, "Thank you."

Federico was beginning to back away. He paused just long enough to let his shoulders fall. "For you, Dad?" He had said. "Anything."

Federico walked away, and into the arms of his waiting parents.

There was the funeral.

They all looked so handsome, dressed in their finest black attire. Their suits were sharp. The black drew your attention to all their finest features, highlighting everything from their height to the jacket clinging to their shoulders, from their eyes to their jaw, from the hair on their head to their beard. Each of them accessorizing with a gold accessory; a ring, a chain. Federico had cut his hair. A short taper fade that suited him nicely. Liam and Vincenzo had their beards professionally trimmed, but it wasn't until Vincenzo pushed his curls away from his forehead that I noticed the sharpness of his hairline, as well.

The funeral was dedicated to the ones we lost. To our four soldiers. To the four assassins' who gave their lives from the OA. To Immanuel Joel Santamaría. Federico and Vincenzo, Liam and Crixus, were the ones designated to carry his casket down the aisle. Crixus only got halfway. He pulled the others to a stop, dropped the handle, and stepped away.