lovers in a dangerous time

Phoebe smiled softly and nodded, even if she didn’t fully believe the words Milo told her. Everything’s good. Far from the truth, they both knew, with Isla and Victor and everything that goes along with them. The words that came next, however, were music to her ears. A few days away from Los Angeles in a world of pure fantasy and happiness? Phoebe jumped at the opportunity. “Really?” she asked, energy perking up. Images of Matteo in cute little mouse ears forming in her mind. “That would be amazing, Milo. Not just for our family, but for you. You’ve earned a break. A real one.” She rested her head on her shoulder and exhaled relief, happy and settling into her boyfriend’s arms.

Roman had eyes everywhere, which is why he wasn’t too worried about Phoebe out on the town. She needed to enjoy these moment before it inevitably happened - the war was coming - and Roman knew that Milo would want her to be protected. That would mean the end of freedom, essentially. Roman was not someone who was keen to kill a child or woman, but that didn’t mean his enemies were the same way. He found it better to just not place himself in a position where the vulnerable could be used as pawns in this game against him. This life did not lead well for those who were attempting normalcy - and Phoebe surely knew that. 

“Right, the worst that can happen, is that you come home and he’s learned a new card game, but I think we’re far too early for that.” He let out a loud laugh, the sentence clearly tied to a memory, but it was uncertain of whether it was his or someone else’s. “It is a decent night, I have nothing to complain about and everything to be grateful for. Are you dancing, you should dance.” Phoebe had birthed one of his bloodline, but only his blood family was privy to his negative emotions. He maintain a pleasant and positive demeanor - overwhelmingly optimistic - with everyone else in his business. He had long since learned that men will stay loyal because of the connection and how they feel over fear. It was how he scaled so quickly.

“Don’t even joke about that boy growing up that quickly,” Phoebe said with a laugh at Roman’s comment. Phoebe wanted to keep her son sheltered, innocent and young for as long as she could; though in the world they lived in, Phoebe was sure that wouldn’t be possible. Still, she could hope. Maybe Milo would see what she saw, that Los Angeles and the empire Roman was building wasn’t a place for a child to grow up. Maybe he’d feel the fear she felt each moment of every day. 

Maybe he wouldn’t. 

Charming as ever, Roman was short in talking about himself and flipped the conversation quickly back on Phoebe and her enjoyment. “Oh, I’ll get out there eventually,” she said, looking to the dancefloor, watching all the younger bodies move to the music. Phoebe wasn’t old by any means, but since becoming a mother, her priorities changed. She took a sip from her drink, leaning on the bar. “You’ll have to come over for dinner soon,” Phoebe said to him, not quite ready to end their conversation and continue with her night. “Matty misses his uncle.”

A little known fact about Roman was that he didn’t have a predictable schedule. He was here and there, handling whatever he needed to handle at the time. Clubs were stuffy, he had always preferred something more grunge, it spoke to his past, but that was a long time ago, and the truth was that there were plenty of aspiring and lightly vulnerable girls looking for a way to break into the industry and knew exactly how well connected the owner of Diablos was. He moved through the club crowd, fearless and gingerly separating himself from girls who were half his age and shameless.

Moving to the bar, he asked for a refill - club soda with a lime - this was purely a canvas to keep his grip on the world. His eyes flickered to a familiar face. His head tilted as he signaled the bartender to get her a drink. His younger brother’s lady, the mother of his nephew. Perhaps this woman didn’t realize exactly what her purpose was in all of this. Did she knew she might be solely responsible for the salvation of his brother, the only man who Roman trusted. “Then put your phone up and dance. Allowing yourself to be consumed with something when you wanted this isn’t going to make it happen.”

Phoebe smiled as her pseudo-brother-in-law approached, ordering her a drink. Her feelings towards the man were complicated; she loved him like family but feared what he was capable of doing. Part of her wanted to take her son and run from the empire Roman built while another felt an obligation to trust he knew what would keep the family safe. Faith was necessary but Phoebe’s faded with each passing day as the memory of Isla and the ghost of Victor Ross loom over her. 

“You’re right,” she said, locking her phone and putting it away in her purse. “Can’t waste a night out staring at a screen.” The bartender was quick with the drink, placing a tumbler in front of her. She raised the glass to Roman and took a sip. “Let’s chat a bit before I dance the night away. How’s your evening so far?” 

“Promise me that you’ll still love me even after I embarrass you?” He chuckled, as he kissed softly once more. 

“You could never embarrass me, mi amor,” Phoebe replied, taking his hand in hers, leading him to the dancefloor. She knew she would be the one leading, much more of a dancer than her partner, though Milo knew how to follow her lead well. Still, despite the atmosphere and drinks in her system, Phoebe couldn’t shake her fears. Phoebe brought a hand to Milo’s cheek, face soft as she looked in his eyes. She wanted to voice all her concerns, but there never seemed to be the right opportunity. The middle of a dancefloor certainly wasn’t the place but that didn’t stop her mind from wandering. “Is everything alright with work? And Roman?” she asked, rather vague. Always tip-toeing around the details.

“Think’s he’s a lot tougher than he is,” Lissa lied goodnaturedly. Sylvie called it her ‘doctor voice’. That calm, reassuring sort of lie that spilled from her so naturally in times of stress. Eventually, it had bled into other parts of life too and become second nature when communicating honestly felt like too much work. Most days felt like too much work lately, as a result, Lissa spoke predominantly like a checkout girl on her last legs; life just kept adding more coupon hoarders to her queue. 

“Look’s like I’m not the only one with a handsome man though, huh? He’s beautiful.” Lissa had wanted more children, she always thought she and Adrian had so much time left, even though she was getting older, the years were still on her side. Adrian, not so much. “How old?”

She glanced down at the listings once more, offering a polite nod in response. “Not sure yet,” She admitted. “I’ve been thinking on getting something out of the city, my daughter–– She saw my riding pictures from when I was younger, absolutely begging for a horse these days.” It was the least she could do she supposed. She’d broken up her family, if Sylvie wanted a Friesian mare to plug the hole, Lissa would oblige. She could do with the quiet herself. But she wouldn’t put a dime into a property that Adrian could track down. If Lissa finally took the plunge, the ranch would be somebody else’s name. Far from Solano meddling.

Phoebe was always happy to gush over her son. “You’re too kind,” she replied to the compliment, a smile beaming on her face. “Little Matty’s just a few days shy of fourteen months.”

“Me?” Valentina replied incredulously, letting out a laugh moments after. She picked up the shot, twirling around the liquid before shooting in down her throat. “I’m way too busy with the club to even think about having a life right now, unless you count the endless amount of numbers that I never end up giving a call.”

Phoebe adored working out of Diablo; the club became her home and gave her the two best things in her life. Of course, with every job, came ups and downs. Phoebe remembered the stress of it all, and she can’t imagine how much worse it would be for someone in Valentina’s position. “I get that,” Phoebe replied, knowing she lucked out finding Milo and a family through her work. The hours alone were enough to make it difficult to have a social life, let alone the actual work they did. In tandem with that, came Isla’s disappearance and the reality of Victor’s assassination. Phoebe was sure the stress weighed heavily on Valentia, just as she was sure it weighed down Milo.

“You need to take more time for yourself,” Phoebe said, though she knew her advice was easier said than done. “Even if its just taking a long bath with a few candles lit. Trust me, its worth it.” She paused for a moment before shrugging. “Or do what I did and make your work life your personal life, all at the same time,” she laughed.

She had a bad case of baby fever, well, at least until he started crying and Valentina momentarily. And then reality sank back in, and she quickly realized that instead of having her own children, she could simply shower her brother’s kids with affection and gifts, which Matteo got plenty of. Smiling as she peered over at Phoebe’s phone, she said, “He’s adorable.”

Valentina held back a laugh at the other woman’s words, taking a sip of her own drink instead. “Watch out, before you know it he’ll be a horny teenage boy sneaking girls in his room,” she joked, ordering a round of shots for the two of them, “Shots work pretty well though.”

A night out with her pseudo-sister-in-law was a welcome change of pace in Phoebe’s daily life. Since giving birth to her son and retiring from the escort business, her entire life revolved around keeping her home together. She loved being a mother and adored taking care of both her boys but it was nice to have a break.

“Enough about me,” Phoebe said as the bartender returned with the shots Valentina ordered. “I want to hear about you.” Playing a little catch-up would help take her mind off what’s happening at home and enjoy her night out. 

Phoebe smiled as Milo gave her a soft kiss. She could melt from her happiness, but the nagging voice in the back of her head was a broken record of worry. Phoebe fought hard to suppress her concerns, though Victor Ross’ death lived rent-free in her mind. She downed her second shot of the night and swallowed her unease, unwilling to put a damper on her date night despite how conflicted she felt inside.

“I’m pretty sure I’m the lucky one,” Phoebe teased at the mention of being out of her boyfriend’s league. Without Milo, she wouldn’t have the best thing to ever happen to her: Matteo. She kissed her boyfriend’s lips softly before her hand intertwined with his. She could taste the whiskey on his mouth. Familiar. 

“Promise you’ll dance with me tonight?” she asked, raising a brow with a mischievous smile on her face. “I can’t remember the last time we went dancing.”

Phoebe rested her head on her palm, leaning on the bar. “Yes,” she replied to Milo. “I’ll need ten more shots before I stop missing him.” She put her phone screen down on the surface and sighed. Her eyes took in her boyfriend, her hand running up his arm and fingers resting gently on his jaw. “I’m happy to have you all to myself tonight,” she said. Date nights were few and far between; whether it was Milo’s work or taking care of their son, the couple rarely had time to be a couple. Though, Phoebe was sure to take advantage any chance she got to show off their love to the world. 

Her mind, however, would always focus on her son.

“I can’t believe Matty’s walking now,” she cooed. “So determined and strong, just like his father.” The baby was on his feet, running wild through the hallways of their home and trying to climb out of his crib and over furniture. Admiring photos on her phone, even at the bar she missed her little boy. Her heart ached so she took a shot. Something strong and definitely over-priced.

“God, I need a distraction,” Phoebe whined, knowing not much would be able to mitigate her maternal desire to smother her child.