Chapter 14 Cesare
Rafael was knocked out beside me in the bed.
At some point he'd curled around me, his long legs wrapping around me as he slept.
Carefully, I pulled myself away from him.
He groaned and pushed his face into my pillow as I stood back and stared down at him.
His long hair was wild around his head, and his relaxed face made him look even younger.
Some part of me twisted. What the fuck was I doing?
I'd never even really thought about hooking up with a man before.
Women were stunning. Soft curves, pouty lips, great tits.
Now I was fucking a guy into my mattress like my life depended on it.
Some part of me liked it more. No chance of a pregnancy scare, didn't have to be gentle, didn't need to talk about my feelings until I wanted to throw something.
Just an eager, warm, wet set of holes and someone willing to take any and everything I gave him.
I'd spent the whole night fucking him, and while I still wasn't about to shout it to the whole world, I hadn't hated it.
I was empty, my balls drained, my head clearer than it had been in a good long while.
He moaned in his sleep, and I shook my head.
"You're a problem."
I left him sleeping and showered before I got dressed for the day.
Eventually, he'd wake up and find his way back into his own room.
Stepping out, I shut the bedroom door behind myself quietly and adjusted my cufflinks.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, distracting me.
Reaching inside, I pulled it out and stared at the new message.
Rocky: Concetta landed an hour ago.
Rocky: Picked her up and took her to the house. Tried to call you but no answer.
Rocky: How am I handling this, boss?
Shit. I stared at the texts, at the missed calls.
For one night, one damn night, I had let myself not be consumed by work, family, or drama.
And look where it got me. My mother had decided to bring her ass all the way to the states.
For what? I sent her money every month, and I took care of her. What did she need to be here for?
I snatched up a set of keys. There would be no driver for this meeting.
"Ellie," I called to the woman who cooked my meals. "He's asleep in my room." I didn't specify who. "Make sure he gets food, water, and a limited amount of caffeine. Then send the doc to make sure he's good. If he protests, text me. I'll handle it."
"Yes, Mr. Vitale."
I slipped into the elevator, my back against the wall as I stared at my reflection in the sleek metal.
My mother was in New York. What could she possibly need?
I took care of everything. If she was here, I could only think of a few reasons.
Either she wasn't feeling well and was here for specialists, which she'd done before. Or Benito had called her.
Cesare: Why wasn’t I informed my mother was coming?
Santiago: Shit, I had no clue.
Santiago: Pietro just told me.
Cesare: Do you know anything?
I shoved my phone back away, not giving a damn about his excuses. Why in the fuck were any of them around me if they couldn’t do shit without me holding their hands?
My jaw tightened. If my son was retaliating, I was going to have to deal with that ASAP.
The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out, my hands in my pockets as I walked through the parking garage to one of the sleek, black SUVs with the bulletproof glass.
I slid behind the steering wheel, started up the engine, and pulled out. The entire time my mind raced.
I drove slow and steady despite how much some old part of me, some once young, stupid, reckless part, wanted to speed.
To cut through traffic, to weave and dart and dodge because it would feel good.
That adrenaline, that excitement, that purge of irritation that had already crawled its way up my spine.
When I pulled up outside of the house that was more of a miniature mansion, I threw the car into park.
I climbed out, and a man approached for my keys.
I held up a hand. I needed to be ready to escape quickly and quietly.
I adjusted my jacket as I walked up the front steps and was let inside of the house. Stepping in, I glanced around.
"Where is she?"
Rocky stood there, looking uncomfortable.
"Sitting room."
I nodded.
"Um, Cesare?" he called as I walked away. I stopped and took a step back, looking at him and already irritated. "She's got company."
I frowned. "Who?"
"Benito, tell that girl to bring us more coffee," Concetta's voice rung out. "Why are we dying of thirst?"
I stiffened. "My son is here?"
"Yep," Rocky answered.
Great, that was the cherry on top of the shit cake.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. All the relaxation I'd felt the night before was erased as I started walking to the sitting room.
I shoved it all down, and when I stepped into the room, the sun filtering through the window, I stared at the woman I hadn't seen in a year.
She was perched on the edge of a chair, her compact out, adjusting her lipstick.
My mother was seventy years old, and while she looked like an older woman, she still didn't look like her age to me.
Not now. When I was younger, yeah, but now?
It was like she'd dropped some years since my father died.
"Cesare," she said when she looked up. It was anything but the warm, fond tone of a mother. Her voice was all business. "What are you doing here?"
I lifted a brow as I crossed the threshold. "What am I doing here?" I asked. "I live here. What are you doing here?"
She waved a hand. "I wanted to visit. Italy gets boring after a while. Besides, I have grandkids and great-grandkids now to visit."
Benito walked back in with a tray. He sat it on the table and carefully poured my mother a drink. He smoothed the front of his suit and sat down, one leg poised over the other before his eyes slid from her to me.
"Morning, Father."
I gritted my teeth. "Benito."
"Now, what is this?" Concetta asked. "You two are acting like you're strangers.
It's not right. Family is everything, you know.
" She clicked the compact closed. "And I want to see those sweet great-grandkids of mine, Benito.
I mean, the way you all have… obtained them is a bit unorthodox, but God sees intent. "
My hand tightened into a fist. "It’s too early in the day for God."
Concetta gasped. "Excuse me?"
"Nothing, Mother."
"Sit down," she said sternly. "I have at least two of my boys here. I'm going to enjoy the morning. Have some coffee, Sare. Relax. You're going to get wrinkles if you keep glaring like that."
I stiffened. "Yes, Mother."
Benito smirked from his place where she couldn't see.
I wanted to throttle him. That punk had definitely put her up to this, and she had no idea that she was being used like some kind of prop.
All that she knew was Benito had called and there she was.
I wanted to say more, but instead I leaned back into my seat and let myself be served a cup of tea when the maid finally bustled in and poured one.
I took a sip and glanced over the rim of the cup.
"So how are things?" she asked. "I've been hearing some… rumors." Her gray eyes dodged between us both as she shifted her long legs, the designer skirt moving with her. My mother had always been tall at five-foot-nine. Between her and my father, I was destined to be huge. "Cesare?"
"Things are good, Ma," I said with a sigh. "What exactly are you askin'? You want me to talk about the business? We both know you like to stay out of it."
"Like to," she said sharply. "Doesn't mean I get to.
Especially when I hear foolishness about you and Benito locking horns.
" She sighed. "Now, I think it would be best if the two of you made up.
Right now." Her eyes moved between us. "I'm not asking.
Lasario, God rest his soul, would turn in his grave if he saw a father and son fighting like this. "
The mention of my father sent lightning down my spine. I sat up a little straighter and grunted. Benito put his cup down.
"You're right, Nonna," Benito said. "He wouldn't like us being up against each other." Benito's eyes slid to me. "Would he, Father?"
I clutched my cup so hard I heard a small creak, the porcelain threatening to crack and shatter.
My throat tightened. I tried to get the words out but they stuck.
It was like I'd been struck mute. My hand tightened more, and I sat the glass down before I broke it.
Slowly, I stood up and adjusted my jacket around my body.
"Mother," I said. "If you need anything, you let me know. I have work to do."
She frowned. "I thought you were retiring, Sare."
"Soon," I said, my eyes on Benitio's. "But not now."
I turned on my heels and walked back down the hall, a furious heat sweeping over every part of my body. My son wanted to play games? Good, good!
"Let's fucking play."
He thought he was the king? No, he was a carbon copy of greatness, an imitation at best. A fraud at worst. Rolling my shoulders, I moved toward the front door as I pulled a cigarette out of its case and slipped it between my teeth.
Rocky fell into step beside me. He passed his lighter, and I lit the cigarette and exhaled.
My eyes stayed straight ahead, my hands in my pockets as I headed toward the car.
"What do we do?" Rocky asked.
"Let him play his pussy games," I said as I exhaled and took the smoke from my lips.
"He wants to hide behind an old woman's skirts?
Let him. It just shows even more that he's not ready to play with the big boys.
" I smirked as I opened the driver's side door.
I looked at Rocky. "Apply the pressure. Go after everyone around him.
Grind and dig and fuck his shit up until he comes crawling with his tail between his legs to be lucky enough to run my goddamn errands. "
"Shit," Rocky breathed. "You sure, Cesare? What you're askin' for…" He trailed off and shrugged. "I can do it. I can make it hurt. Still, they're your kids."
"And they've decided to declare war. You think kings of old got sentimental when their brats tried to steal their throne?
To shove a knife into their kidneys and twist so they could rule?
No." I flicked the half-smoked cigarette away.
"You either outlast them or you become fish food.
That's what I raised them to be, but they've forgotten the food chain.
I rule. They worship," I said, shoving two fingers against Rocky's head.
"But they've forgotten how to fuckin' bow.
So I'm going to remind them. Slowly. Brutally.
Until they get the fuckin' picture." I straightened and jerked my jacket down straight.
"Dig," I ordered. "And while you're at it, let the rumors fly.
Let the world see they ain't so innocent.
You hear me? Make it hard for them to breathe, to move without someone questioning their every motive. You got that?"
"Yeah," Rocky said, his voice tight. "I got it, boss."
"Good. Worry more about my orders than what's going on with my sons. They're big boys. By now, they know what they're doing."
I climbed behind the steering wheel and lit another cigarette.
The wheels complained against the gravel as I shot down the long driveway back to the waiting gate.
Benito didn't know it yet, but he had just made a grave mistake.
He could fuck with me; I even expected it.
Bringing my mother into it though? That was a complication neither of us needed.
Rolling my window, I exhaled, my heart still hammering in my chest. Benito looking at me, bringing up my father?
It was a line crossed even if he didn't truly understand it.
By the time I was done with him though? He would.
Benito would understand what it meant to insult Vitale men older, stronger, and more ruthless than he would ever be.
I picked up my phone and dialed an old contract. "Shut down Vitale Constructions. The sites and the buildings. Call it an audit, discrepancies. Take your time with the investigation. Make it hurt."
Before the man could answer, I hung up. He would either get it done or he would be dead. There was no third option.
My fist slammed into the console. A deep, pulsing ache shot up from my knuckles, wrapping around my arm. Grimacing, I shoved my foot against the gas pedal and raced toward home.