Blood And Water

CHAPTER 1

"Happy birthday, Alex!” Albert removed the blindfold with a proud grin on his face.

Alex blinked repeatedly as he stared at the grand sign above them. “Aurelia Bloom?” His jaw dropped. No way! He closed his eyes and opened them again.

This was one of the city’s most exclusive restaurants—booked out for months. How had Albert managed this? He turned to him.

"Albert, you're a joker. I hope this isn't one of your stupid pranks? He asked. 

Albert chuckled. "This isn't, it's a birthday gift from me to you." He wrapped his arm around Alex's shoulder.

“Happy birthday again, man. You’re almost thirty,” Albert said, giving him a hearty slap on the back.

“Are we going to stand here all day, or are we going in to eat?” Alex asked, already pushing open the door. He could smell the delicacies that were being served.

Inside, the place buzzed with life. Every table was full. But at the far end, they spotted a vacant table and made their way toward it.

They had just sat down when a woman in a crisp uniform approached them.

“I’m sorry, but this table is reserved,” she said firmly. “You’ll need to vacate it.” 

“I booked it two days ago,” Albert said, pointing to the tablet in her hand. “Check the list, you'll see my name.” He proceeded to tell her his full name.

She scrolled through it. There was no “Albert.” Her brow furrowed. “I’m not seeing your name, sir. Are you sure you booked?”

“I’m sure,” Albert muttered. He wasn’t drunk that day, and he’d even paid double to secure the spot. He insisted she check again. Still nothing.

“Speak to the receptionist,” she said with a tight smile. "There must be a mix up somewhere."

Alexander glared at Albert. If this was truly a prank, he'd give him the beating of his life. They waled over to the reception.

"Good afternoon."

The receptionist barely glanced up from her screen. Albert explained the situation, and she tapped through her system, then paused.

“I see the reservation,” she said. “But… it was canceled. My boss reassigned your table to a VIP guest.” She informed them.

“What?” Alex snapped, his voice rising. “You gave our table away—after we paid? Who the hell does that?” He slammed his hand on the desk, startling the staff who wasn't to be blamed.

Just then, the door swung open, and the owner who'd been at the back rushed out towards the man who had just walked in.

Dressed in a charcoal tuxedo, dark shades covering cold eyes, a leather briefcase in hand.

 The owner rushed to him, bowing excessively that he feared her neck would snap if she continued.

“Welcome, Mr. Lucian, sir,” she said, voice trembling. “Your table is ready.” she was already leading the way to the table Alex and the others had just vacated.

A wave of dread passed through Alex as he heard the name. His fists clenched in anger. 

“Please, sir,” the receptionist turned back to him. “We’ll have another table shortly.”

“There’s one right there,” Alex said coldly. “We’ll take it. Whoever you gave it to? Sort it out with him.”

He turned—and his eyes locked onto Lucian Romano. Rage surged in his chest. The hatred he'd bottled up years exploded as he stormed toward the table.

Lucian sat, eyes on his phone, unbothered by the man who'd come to stand before him.

“This table is ours. Move.”

Lucian didn’t even look up. “I’m sitting here. Let the owner find you another.”

“You’ll be the one moving. Get up before I make you regret it.” Alex’s hand moved towards the briefcase, and Lucian grabbed his wrist, rising to his feet. Slowly, he removed his sunglasses.

Ice-blue eyes met Alex’s, sharp as blades. A glint of anger flashed through them.

Spoons dropped noisily on the ceramic plates. Around them, customers fled in silence, paying their bills in haste. Nobody wanted to be a victim of circumstances. 

“Who is the fuck is this?” Lucian asked, his tone dripping disdain. "And why is he disturbing me?

The owner stepped forward, panic in her eyes. “Just… just a customer, sir. We’ll move him.”

Lucian ignored her, slipping his phone into his pocket. “You’re going to leave this place. Now. Without another word.”

Alex didn’t flinch. He wasn't scared of the Romanos. He stood toe to toe with him. "And if I don’t?”

Lucian smirked. He reached behind his back—and pulled a pistol. Gasps echoed through the restaurant. Albert and the others were scared. They'd tried to warn Alex but he was too hot tempered. He wouldn't back down.

He pressed the muzzle to Alex’s forehead.

“Alex, please,” Albert begged. “Let’s just go.”

The owner dashed off, frantically reaching for her phone, and she called the police before anyone lost his or life.

“Go ahead,” Alex whispered. “Shoot me.” He yelled. They'd done it before so why was he relenting now?

Lucian’s brows lifted in surprise. Who the hell was this guy? Even in the face of death, he didn't flinch. 

“You Romanos think you own the world,” Alex scoffed. “You’ve taken everything from me. But this table? I’m taking it back. And one day, I’ll take everything else, too.”

Lucian stared at him, surprised. Then, he lowered the gun. Slowly, he stepped back, picked up his briefcase, and gave Alex a look—part curiosity, part warning—before walking out of the restaurant.

Everyone watched, shocked beyond words at Lucian's figure as he left. Alex turned to his stunned friends.

“What? You planning to stand there all day?” he asked, sitting down.

Albert dropped into the seat across from him, still pale. “Do you have a death wish?” he asked. "You just challenged a Romano, are you crazy or what?"

Alex smirked. “This is just the beginning. One day… he’ll wish he’d pulled that trigger today because I'm going to make them pay.”