Meanwhile, they were debating about their inner self, about what they exactly are or if there is still hope for them or not, James was already home, or if it can be called home.

It was more like a shell of what once was a home, debris of the shooting was still there though the guards tried to sweep it away, just like the bullet holes in the windows, the door, the walls were still there, with some blood on the driveway that they couldn't wash away with water.

Even though all of this, the inside was different. The cooks and housekeeper welcomed James with a smile on their faces like nothing had even happened, already having plates on the table and a big-ass red lobster which, as James looked at it, made his hunger immediately come back, and he sat down to dig into it.

"Join me." He said as he grabbed the knife and to his surprise, he didn't need to say it twice.

The housekeeper put down her broom, the chefs too put down whatever was in their hands and joined him at the table, and it finally looked like some kind of a home with all of them eating at the table, though it was silent.

Not even a word was spoken as they ate the lobster, the rice, some salad… everybody was silent because something was coming off from James.

The way he ate was just screaming that he was stressed about something, he ate aggressively, not even chewing the food properly, he didn't even get the full taste of the red lobster that was clearly prepared and seasoned for him… he just ate without even tasting it, but not just that.

The whole time his eyes were down at the plate not even looking at them, his breath was kind of ragged… like if he was a dog that didn't eat for days.

"Is there a problem, sir?" Albert got enough courage or moreover he felt the need to ask the question because it was obvious something was up.

"No." He said almost immediately again, not even looking up, just still eating that wild way.

It just told them even more that something was not right, he was behaving in a way they never saw him, like they see him as a leader, someone with power and authority, but now he just looked stressed too much, not the calm behavior that he usually has.

Though Albert did not ask again because he is just a cook, a chef of the house and not somebody who has a deeper connection with him… he knew it even though they have good talks before and he knew their names, they do not interfere into the family business nor do they know what exactly is happening.

Shortly they knew James didn't feel any kind of trust toward them to talk about anything… though Alda didn't really care about this and pressed on.

"I know, we know that we are not part of any family business, nor are we people you can openly talk about it…" She said as she looked at the others and now even James finally looked up at her. "But we are part of the family, we are the ones that know you more than the guards outside, your business partners or your enemies. We cook, we clean, we see you almost every day, we know your needs, what you like or don't like." For a moment she stopped as she looked into his eyes, his expression and she finally saw… he looked tired, really tired. "…you can act like we are nothing more than cooks, cleaners… just staff… but we see things others don't." Alda continued. "You don't have to tell us anything about business… we don't care about that. But don't pretend we don't notice when you break down in your own home. Don't pretend you're a ghost walking in these halls, James, because we care even if you don't want us to."

They all felt it, everybody in there, that Alda's words were too much. She said it in a way that sounded more like a mother taking care of her children than a simple housekeeper… she was pressing too much with her words, she was touching areas that were just too risky and thin.

And even James was surprised by it, that Alda was talking that way to him, that she was raising her voice full of care and worry, but he said nothing, just looked at her face and she wasn't scared of him… but looked determined.

"We know enough." She continued, now holding eye contact with him. "Enough to see you destroying yourself before anyone else can get the chance. And if you end up dead… at least you'll know… it wasn't because no one cared."

Alda didn't say more, didn't need to, she stood her ground still staring at him, while the others kept silent, not because they had the fear or worry that something might happen, but because what Alda said was just the truth and nothing else.

And James' reaction revealed even more. He tried to laugh it off, but quickly realized his body had betrayed him, his leg wouldn't stop its slight tremble, and the fake smile on his face wouldn't fade either.

"You just made more sense than the therapist I saw today. You could be one, if you can judge things so quickly just by looking at me… how?" He asked, looking at her but now, something about him felt very different.

That fake smile now turned into something else… a genuine one, like even his eyes had that look… when he is about to do something outrageous.

Alda's whole body suddenly tensed, her voice suddenly became hesitant as she tried to avoid his eye but couldn't… it was just screaming authority over her and something far worse than that.

"B-Because you've never… looked this lost and tired." she said honestly. "And because… this house was never meant to be a tomb."

Silence again as now James leaned back on the chair, looking up at the ceiling, then he looked back at her with a question that froze down everybody even more, that just pumped more adrenaline into their veins, mixed with fear.

"Do you know why I like coin flips?" He asked as the whole room went dead silent. "Because it takes the choice away… for a few seconds… everything's simple. Heads or tails. No overthinking, no weighing risks… just… fate deciding for me." His hand slid into his pocket, pulling out a coin which he found in the car when they were coming back.

"When I flip this… it feels like I can blame the coin. Not myself, not my decisions." James pressed the coin to the table, tapping it lightly. "Sometimes, I think… maybe I should just leave everything to this stupid coin… every decision. Walk away or stay. Destroy or spare. Live… or give up." His expression darkened, but a smile curled at the corner of his mouth. "But the thing is… the coin I always used was a weighted one." He looked deeply into Alda's eyes. "How funny is it that sometimes even a weighted coin fails… and yet the outcome can still be good? That's the funniest part."

He shook his head, and the smile disappeared from his face.

"Like the coin, there are two sides. What I was chasing all along wasn't the mafia, not this life, but my real family. I was doing everything to make it work for them, to give them everything and a better life and on the other side… there was the Bellini family. Then I quickly realized the damn coin I keep flipping is weighted too… and it's always landing on the Bellini side." He shook his head again. "I'm just tired… I want to be loved, to be hugged. I just want to rest."

"T-Then stop… flipping it." Alda answered. "Or find a new one, one that isn't rigged against you."

He laughed as he grabbed the coin again. "Nahh… to be truth… I love flipping it."