Chapter 2
Fuck!
It happened again. Every time I left from seeing Rafael, all I could think about was him.
My body felt lighter, my brain felt clearer, and my balls were drained.
Wasn't that all a man required in this life?
I tried to find that many times with a wife, but it never happened that way.
They always wanted something more of me, always craved the things I could not give them.
Rafael fit so well into my little world.
He was in a bubble, one that I didn't have to burst. A perfect fantasy, a toy.
Something that I could indulge in and then disappear from when the whole thing became too much.
And at least this time there would be no surprise babies or angry accusations.
No, Rafael was a bit of fun. That was all it was. And that's what made it so… clean.
The highest earner in a fucking brothel. What a joke. And he thinks he can rope me into some kind of deal. How idiotic.
Rafael wasn't the first whore to try to trap me into something.
After all, it was their nature. Secure a house, secure a car, secure a husband, have a baby.
I'd watched many of my friends fall for the same deal, and while my wives had never been pulled from brothels, they all seemed to have the same ambitions.
I leaned back in my seat, staring at my phone. There were plans to be made, things that needed to be done, but I couldn't wipe the satisfied feeling from my brain. Every inch of me felt like I was loose and pliable. All it took was time from those skilled lips, and I was renewed.
Shit. What am I doing?
I wish I knew the answer. Rafael had become something of an indulgence, a way to purge my exhaustion without risk. At the end of the day, I could go home and he could do… whatever it was that he did, and that was fine.
What he does is see other clients. Is he seeing one right now?
Fuck, that shouldn't bother me. Honestly, he was a nothing and a nobody to me, and I had much bigger fish to fry.
I opened a sterling silver case and dragged out a cigar.
When I lit up, smoke curled around me. All I could picture was Rafael's long hair, his bow lips, and his audacity.
The man really wanted me to do what? Purchase him?
Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. I would get sick of him or he would get sick of me, and it would end in disaster.
The way it always did.
Walking back into my place, I kicked off my shoes and paused in the doorway. It was quiet. The distant sound of the AC and a cool breeze was all that greeted me. My back stiffened.
I should have stayed out longer.
I wasn't drunk enough to pass out, and my body was back on edge.
For a moment, I thought about Rafael again.
Even if it meant nothing, maybe it would be good to have someone around again.
I laughed at myself, shaking my head as I stalked over to the fireplace and grabbed the TV remote.
I turned on the television and turned up the volume on high.
The sound of explosions, loud music, and helicopter blades filled the empty, sterile setting of my loft.
I browsed the nearly empty fridge, found nothing worth eating, and plopped down on the couch.
My phone rang. "Yeah?"
"Heard Benito's been making some moves," Rocky said.
He was one of my oldest friends, the only person I could actually trust in this fucked-up world.
"I figured we should move some of the plans up that we have going.
Nothing big, nothing noticeable, but let's start dropping more information to the media.
The more bad light that's cast on him, the better. "
I grunted. "The family doesn't like drama. Especially after the war." I turned the TV down. "But if we make Benito look like he's unraveling…"
"You get back control," Rocky finished. "I'll get some things going. I have a file as thick as my arm on all your boys. They don't exactly make it hard to dirty up their names. They get into a lot of shit."
I chuckled. "Yeah, I'm aware."
If there was one truth I'd come to accept, it was that my sons were definitely mine. As much as they hated me, they acted exactly like me. If anyone told them that, they would deny it, but it was true. I never doubted they were mine. It was obvious they were.
"Don't sound so proud. We're trying to take them down, remember?"
I frowned. "I'm not sounding like anything. Get to work."
Rocky was quiet for a moment. "You got it."
We hung up, and I leaned my head back. Staring up at the ceiling, I went over the plan again and again.
Eventually, I got tired of it. Whatever happened, I already knew I would come out on top.
And when I was? Empty nights would disappear, and I would be back where I was supposed to be. Where I was always meant to be.
Sleep never came, but that was normal for me.
A strong cup from the local shop on the corner was exactly what I needed to get ready for the day.
As far as Benito was concerned, I had a day job.
I worked within the subset of Vitale industries tending to luxury imports and exports.
Of course, fine wine, cigars, and upscale art weren't all that I handled, but no one needed to know that.
In Benito's eyes, that was my nine-to-five, how I spent most of my time.
Truth be told, I rarely did dick there. Bureaucracy bored me, and being behind a desk didn't suit a man like me with calloused hands and an impatient nature.
Even if it was helpful to the family, if one more person asked me how my weekend went, I would probably end up going to prison.
Again.
I grabbed my suit jacket after I cleaned up my face for the day, brushed my teeth, and checked my messages.
As I descended into the morning chaos of New York, I stuck my headphones in and returned to the book I had been listening to every morning.
These quiet moments were the only part of my day that I was able to tune out the world and focus on something else.
Of course, I couldn't completely turn it up and forget where I was.
After all, I was still Cesare Vitale. There was always a target painted on my back.
As I approached the counter, I took one of the ear phones out. "Espresso," I said shortly to the girl behind the counter.
"Coming right up. Next!"
This was why I enjoyed this café. Quick, efficient, and to the point. They didn't linger, didn't bother asking how I was, or asking for a complicated order.
As I leaned against the counter, I scanned the café, an old habit that I indulged in since I was a boy.
The place was packed with a myriad of people.
Some were wrapped in expensive suits and dresses, a group of teenage girls sat in the corner giggling as they waited to finish their walk to school, a mother bounced a baby on her hip, and a father stood with his son. Now, that caught my attention.
The man standing beside the boy had a pinched face, his thick brows laced together. Every time the boy asked for something, the man waved him off as he played on his phone. My stomach tightened.
"Espresso," the girl called out.
I turned, putting the strangers behind me as I grabbed my cup.
Still steaming hot, the strong scent of it made me relax almost instantly.
That was all I needed to start my day. I gave myself the chance to take one, discreet inhale before I drank it in a long sip.
As soon as the caffeine hit me, I felt like I could face my boring job and figure out the next steps that I needed to take.
"Enough! Can't you just fucking stand there and shut up? God, where is your mother?"
My head snapped in the direction of the man as the boy beside him tried to shrink away.
His father gripped his arm tightly and tears filled his eyes.
He couldn't have been any older than six or seven, just a child who wanted his father's attention.
A woman stormed up, they exchanged terse words, and she left with the boy wrapped in her arms as he cried.
As she left, some in the café continued to look at the man.
"Mind your own fucking business," he snapped.
Heat rushed through my body, and it wasn't from the coffee.
I placed the cup on the counter, dropped a tip into the jar, and stepped outside.
It only took a few moments, but as soon as the man stepped out, I fell in step behind him.
He was so busy on his phone, he didn't even notice I was there.
As he stopped to grab a drink from a stand, I walked ahead and waited in the alley.
It seemed to be on his way to wherever he was going.
Every minute that ticked by seemed to take much longer. When I saw him, I moved fast.
Grabbing the man, I threw him in the alley.
Shock played on his face as he fell to the ground, a grunt leaving his lips as he made contact with the concrete.
I drew my foot back and slammed it into the man's stomach.
The sharp gasp of pain was barely audible over the sound of blaring music and an ongoing horn.
I did it again, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders.
"S-stop. W-why?"
I kicked him in the mouth to shut him up.
Blood splattered onto the ground as he coughed and spluttered.
He tried to ball up to protect himself, but I wouldn't let him have that.
I raised my foot, stomped on his belly and watched as he spewed coffee onto the ground.
Panting, I crouched down and grabbed a handful of his greasy hair.
"You ever touch that child again, and I'll make it my personal mission to hunt you down, cut you open, and dump you into a pig pen while you're still alive.
" I shoved my hand into the man's pocket, snatching out his wallet.
"Richard Wilcox. A fitting name for a dick.
" I stashed his ID, took the cash, and threw his wallet down the alley.
Fuck him. I looked him over. "So do we have an understanding or should I start over again? "
"Help. Hel—!"
I punched him in the face. Blood gushed from his nose and had the nerve to get on my fist. I wiped it on his cheek, my face scrunched up in disgust.
"Let's try this again. Do we understand each other? You never put a hand on your child again. Right?"
"Y-yes," the man stuttered out, his eyes wide as he stared up at me.
"I have your ID. Don't make me come looking for you."
I stood up, checked my appearance on the phone, and took out a wet wipe from my briefcase. Once I was all cleaned up, I tucked everything away to be disposed of later. I took one last look at the man on the ground who was too petrified to move. Grinning, I winked at him.
"Don't even think about reporting me. Trust me, worst decision you could ever make."
Fear twisted his features, and I chuckled under my breath.
I fixed my hair and exited the alley on the other side.
A teenager sat hunched over, and I tapped his leg with my shoe.
When he looked up, I gave him the money I'd stolen from Richard, and continued on my way.
I was going to be late for work. As much as I hated it, image was everything.
I couldn't afford to look anything less than perfect.