Standing in the infirmary, Fanny was just in broad daylight daydreaming about the day before when the door suddenly opened and four men walked in with a loud noise.

Michel and Charles carried the wounded Carlos, while Andy limped behind the three, holding onto his bleeding leg.


"God. What happened?"

"An explosion. Carlos and I were waiting in the abandoned building across the river when..."

"Shut up, Andy." Michel glared at Andy as he and Charles laid the groaning Carlos onto the hospital bed, who was writhing in pain, clutching at his side.


Fanny stayed by their side for a second, her hands washed, disinfected, and gloved as she led them back a step so she could assess the damage.

"How is that?" Charles asked, moving to the sink to wash Carlos's blood from his hands, and Michel did.


Fanny immediately hooked Carlos to the IV, adjusting the drops as she returned to her patient's side.

"It was a gunshot wound but it looks like he was just grazed. Now I'm starting him on antibiotics and painkillers. Luckily he won't need a blood transfusion."

"That's hurt." Carlos cursed loudly, his voice loud but hoarse.

"I know. However, it'll be fine. I promise you." Fanny gently placed her hand on Carlos' arm as if to comfort him.

She quickly looked over to Andy and nervously looked at the wound on his leg.

"Andy, go to that bed and lie down. I'll be with you as soon as I can. Where's Christian? I know you let him go, but can't we just call him?" She looked at Charles, who stepped forward to answer her.

"Christian's busy, Fanny. You have to do it yourself."

Michel sighed at the explanation, knowing it was bullshit.

They don't want to call Christian because they suspect him as much as they suspect Gwen.

After all, he was a Davies and could have been planted in their home to spy on them.

He was annoyed with the situation but when he turned to watch Fanny running around the room tending to Carlos' injuries, working professionally and diligently, he was suddenly even more upset.

How messed up this whole situation is.

The attacks became increasingly vicious and unpredictable and although he had only caught his guard yesterday, it was suddenly clear to him how quickly those around him could be hurt.

Come to think of it, it was his fault that two of their men were injured. He was supposed to have been there with Andy and Carlos but decided not to go this morning, so the chances of the explosion happening because their enemies thought he would be there is high.

Michel tries to hold back his anger but when he sees how Fanny fixes Carlos, he notices how she glances at Andy every few minutes, nervousness wanting to start with him too.

And he can't handle that.

His jealousy is getting in the way of his work.

How did this happen?

"Stand still, please. I need to clean this wound. Did you fall into something like that?"

Andy cursed loudly as he moved around again.

"Uh, the window broke. I think I fell on some glass."

"No. How did this happen? I mean..."

"None of your business. Stop asking questions and do your job, Fanny." Michel suddenly shouted at her, silencing everyone around, including Carlos and Andy.

He gulped hard when he realized what he had done, slowly turning to look at Fanny standing there with wide but painful eyes.

Letting out a growl and running a hand through his hair roughly, he just turned around and stormed out, not wanting to deal with anyone's reaction.

---

Michel needs to be alone.

He wants to start drinking heavily and pass out instead of having to deal with whatever confusion is going on in his head.

He is tired of analyzing any and every detail around him and craves silence.

Absolute silence.

About to slam the door shut, Charles caught him and followed Michel into the room.

"Stay away." Michel stooped over the wine rack, as Charles simply ignored his request and sat down instead, crossing his legs, exhaling loudly.

He gave Michel a moment, watching him throw a shot back and refill his glass.

"So I see you're in love with her." Charles decided to just come out and say it.

Michel turned, his eyes shooting daggers at the person who had just entered his private space.

"Who asked you."

However, Charles remained calm and just shrugged nonchalantly.

"You love her. Whether you're going to do anything about it or not, she's your weak point anyway. And eventually, everyone will know about her."

Michel threw back another shot, hoping to stop his brother's mafia brother's words.

They're being honest as usual, but he just doesn't want to deal with them right now.

"Especially Gwen, if she doesn't already know." Charles continued as if Michel's silence meant nothing to him.

Throwing herself on the couch across from Charles, Michel now drank straight from the bottle, flinching at the awful taste.

He cleared his throat from the burning sensation before deciding to answer.

"No matter what, I'll marry Farrah. We need that alliance."

Charles nodded.

"That's right. Or maybe Andy. Because he's been sleeping with her for the past year or so."

Michel jumped up from his chair, eyes wide, mouth open and closed in shock.

"Sorry? How do you know?"

"So did you know?" Charles arched his eyebrows at Michel, casually leaning back.

Michel was silent for a second before sighing in defeat and nodding.

"Yeah, I know." He admitted.

"Michel. The opposite of love is not hate. It's indifference. You didn't care that Farrah was sleeping with someone else. Or Andy, your mafia brother was sneaking around with your fiancé. Because you don't care."

"And?"

"Imagine now Fanny is with someone else."

Michel looked angry immediately, nostrils flaring as he bared his teeth, hissing the words.

"What?" He said, but then immediately realized his mistake when he saw Charles smirking at him because he had just proved that he cared.

Taking another sip from the bottle, Michel wiped his mouth before gasping for a reply.

"No problem, Charles."

"Oh, that's right. I don't love anyone but you, Vengo, Andy, or Carlos. I can see everything clearly. So just do something about it instead of making it harder on yourself. And you. It makes no sense to prolong it."

Michel frowned as he held the side of his head, rubbing his temples with his palms.

"Since when do you talk so much?"

Charles simply shrugged as he got up and walked out the door.

"I care about the organization, the business. Everything else is second place to me."

But Michel didn't answer that.

All he can think about is that he used to be like that.

He is not interested in love.

But now? Now, all he does is put everyone in danger.