32. Allesandro
I stare out the window as the limo heads toward the Amato mansion.
Leaving my Boy wasn’t an easy decision, and yet…
Fuck. I can’t explain this. I can’t explain the rush of heat in my body as I think of him —the need to make him feel better.
Closing my eyes, I focus on my breathing, trying not to think of anything else.
And yet… Fuck . My brain won’t stop with the images. Blood. Knife. Insanity. My stomach clenching as the knife slid into Cristian… The fear. Fuck . No, it was more than fear. It was terror.
More comes at me and I struggle to breathe through it. His cocky smile. The horrendous singing, which, in the end, didn’t bother me as much as I said. His honesty. Fuck.
I jolt as we come to a stop and I stretch my neck, trying to ease the tension. When the door is opened for me, I slide out, and for a moment, I simply stare at the mansion in front of me. Who would have thought I’d be here?
Shaking my head, I wave off my guard and stride toward the front door. I pause quietly for admittance, tension thrumming through me.
When I’m ushered inside, I’m stuck in the foyer, waiting.
Waiting for him. Fucker . I tug at the cuffs of my suit, straightening out imaginary wrinkles.
My head snaps toward the sound of shouting and I march forward, ignoring the guard trying to get me to wait.
I’d like to see him attempt to put me on the ground.
It doesn’t take long for me to reach the source of the shouting.
Tennant and Cristian. Tennant is in Cristian’s space, looming over him, and I instantly go on alert.
I brush the guard off again and continue on until I’m standing at Cristian’s side.
When I touch his shoulder, he jerks, whirling around on me.
For a moment, time seems endless. His onyx eyes bore into mine, and the snap of connection thrums between us.
Tennant’s voice melts into the background.
It’s only when Tennant touches me that everything comes rushing back.
Growling, I grab Tennant’s hand, twisting it. Fucker doesn’t react like most do. I know the pain is there, but he simply stares at me, baring his teeth. Cristian taps my shoulder, and I let Tennant go with a grimace of distaste.
“Let’s go into my office, Amico Mio.” I ignore Tennant as I stroll alongside Cristian. Not even the hateful gaze I feel boring into my back bothers me. I can always take it out on Benjamin’s ass if Tennant ends up being an issue.
Cristian steps into his office, and we both maneuver to our usual spots. Fuck, we have usual spots now . He sat down with a sigh, before glancing over at me as I take my own seat, quirking an eyebrow at him.
“How’d you know?” He averts his eyes, staring off into the distance as tension emanates from him.
Shrugging my shoulders, I retort, “Carter.”
Cristian mutters curses as he shakes his head. Taking a deep breath, he looks at me. “I’m sorry, Amico Mio. He shouldn’t have.”
Scoffing, I reach out for his hand. “You know better. And I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”
“Still…” He sighs as he trails off, even as he grips my hand tighter.
“Non siamo usciti da quella stanza separatamente, ma insieme. Ora sei parte di me.”
Cristian tilts his head back and we sit in silence, letting it soothe our wounds. Eventually, he lets go of my hand and shifts to face me completely. “E tu, Amico Mio, stai bene?”
I hesitate before shaking my head. “No. You are not the only one who deals with those nightmares. Both awake and asleep.”
He gives a decisive nod before relaxing fully. “At least I’m not the only one.”
“Never, my friend. You are not alone. I am here.” I purse my lips as I study him. “You are not sleeping.”
“Considering you’re here in the middle of the night…you aren’t either.”
Scoffing, I cross my legs. “It appears both of us are fucked.”
“It could be worse,” he murmurs and his lips twitch. I narrow my eyes at him, not sure I want to hear how he thinks that’s possible. “You could be going toe to toe with Tennant every fucking day over the loss of his Topolino .”
“Jesus Christ. Our fucking families. I have to put up with enough pouting,” I growl, tired of the bullshit that makes me feel way too fucking old.
“We both seem to be doing that. I’m not sure they’re going to let each other go, Amico Mio.” Cristian snorts before softly adding, “I’m not sure they can…any more than we can.”
I tug at my hair in frustration, not wanting to think about it anymore. “I’m still in the process of teaching my Boys their lessons, now that Emilio has the all clear from Sarah.”
“You really think punishment is going to solve this?” Cristian grins at me, amusement coloring every word. Scowling, I fold my arms, not wanting to acknowledge it. “Very well, we’ll see how it goes. Perhaps I’m wrong.”
Growling, I push his words to the side, along with a sinking feeling. Instead, I change the subject. “Are we meeting in person or via video?”
“I had planned to do video after waking up the way I did, but…” His voice trails off and I nod, understanding the way nightmares suck your soul. “You made things better.”
Those four words. Fuck . They seem to have been ripped from him, but damn do they hit me. I clench my hands into fists, before making a move I shouldn't even be thinking about. Swallowing, I give him what I can. “You do the same for me, Amico Mio. Always.”
Cristian twists to grab my favorite whiskey. He pours us each a healthy amount, and for the longest time, we just sit there, sipping our drinks. Nothing needs to be added, no words need to be said. Time exists for us only here. And thank fuck it does.
Eventually, the sky lightens, and I groan as I stand. “Heading out?”
“Yes, I need to be there for family breakfast. Cole will be there, and if I’m not, Emilio will have words to say.”
Laughing, Cristian doesn’t call me out. Not when we both know Emilio has been ruling things more than he probably should. When my friend stands, he raises his eyebrows at me. “I still can’t believe you’re wearing a suit. Who wakes up and puts one on in the middle of the night?”
“Someone who has lived with Antonio for too long,” I grumble.
Even though suits have always been my preference, I can’t deny that Antonio’s shopping skills have increased the amount of them in my closet.
“Well, it looks good on you regardless.” I roll my eyes at Cristian’s smirk. “It does! You don’t look stuffy and ridiculous at all.”
I ignore his chatter, even as I hide a smirk of my own. It’s good to see him back to his usual self—even if it’s being a smart ass. When we get to the door of his office, he stops me with a touch of his hand.
I cock my head, confused. When he doesn’t say anything, I prompt him. “Are you alright?”
Eventually, he swallows and whispers, “Thank you. Thank you for coming.”
“Fuck it,” I curse.
Grabbing him by the back of his head, I pull him in and capture his lips with mine. Growling, I put more force into the kiss, pouring every emotion I have into it—confusion, need, anger, desire, the complexity of everything that makes me think of him.
At first, he holds still, but it's not long before he’s meeting my kiss with a passion of his own.
Eventually, I slowly part from him, rubbing my thumb against his wet lip.
The shock in his black eyes is likely the same that’s in mine, because fuck, this doesn’t make sense.
And yet…it does. The sense of rightness that fills me is overpowering. I give him one more soft kiss.
“Let me know where the meeting will be, Dolce Cuore.”
I walk out, not giving him a chance to speak.
I’m familiar enough with his house now that it’s easy to find my way out.
I don’t meet anyone’s gaze as I go, staring straight ahead as I try to keep my thoughts inside.
As soon as I’m out of the mansion, I take a deep breath.
I quietly thank the driver when he opens the door to the limo. Sliding in, I sag against the seat.
Scrubbing my face with my hands, I give an aborted laugh. Fuck me. I’m more screwed than I imagined. What the fuck do I do now?
I keep my eyes closed as we head home. I’m stuck in a prison of my own making.
The desire for my friend, and the love of my Boy.
Fuck. I want both, if Cristian will let me.
I know Emilio would accept it easily. But if I do, I’d need to deal with Hollis, and that’s another issue entirely.
One I have no desire to think about on so little sleep.
The Amato-Martelli Curse is far stronger than I thought…