Chapter 10
TEN
I f someone had told me five years ago I’d be working for the Russians while on my knees for the Italians, I would have laughed so hard I’d have had an aneurysm. As it happens, sucking Alvaro off was the fix I needed to get out of my head the other night. It was the perfect distraction.
Only it’s been two weeks since, and it’s still all I can think about. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy what we did in that dark locker room. The way he took charge and fucked my face so aggressively, like he couldn’t get close enough; it was a fucking turn on. It still is. And if that wasn’t enough, the hard barrel of his gun pressed against my chest had the opposite effect than I know Alvaro intended. His authority paired with the silent threat of his weapon made me rock hard, not to mention what he was packing in his own slacks. I’m not even surprised at how big he is given his arrogance. I’m getting hard again just thinking about my lips wrapped around that thick cock.
Yebat.
I readjust myself before I exit my bedroom, fighting back the memory of the other night. I haven’t even thought about the real reason Bonanno and his friends visited the fight club. I never stopped to ask, because I was too focused on Alvaro and the way his dark glare penetrated every inch of me.
We’ve been dancing around this insane attraction for over two years, and it’s about time we did something about it. Only now that I’ve had a taste, I want more. He’s like a fucking drug; one hit and I’m hooked.
Mindlessly, I pull out my phone and scroll to our text thread. Part of me wants to come up with some excuse to send him a message, just to have some connection with him. It’s messed up, I know, but the urge to have any kind of contact is overwhelming.
My thumbs hover over the keyboard as I mull over some passable excuse to message him. Words don’t usually evade me, especially when it comes to Alvaro, but damn , he’s got me stumped right now. Guess no amount of jacking off can stave off my addiction to the Italian.
Before I can decide on how I’ll taunt the man who’s occupied my mind for the last two weeks, footsteps pull me out of focus and into the present, forcing me to look up.
“Kyrovsky,” Vadim growls, his lip curling like it physically pains him to say my name.
I nod in greeting, tucking my phone back into my pocket so I can give him my full attention. As much as I dislike the asshole, I always remain professional because the last thing I want to do is get on his bad side. I’ve seen it. It’s not somewhere anyone wants to be.
“ My brother wants to see you,” Vadim grumbles to me in Russian before turning on his heel and marching down the hall towards Konstantin’s office.
I have no idea what he wants, but if my boss has sent his brother to find me, it can’t be good. Rolling my shoulders back, I take a deep breath before I follow Vadim through the house. Instead of taking me to his brother’s office, though, he turns the opposite way, heading towards the front of the house.
When he finally stops and I see Konstantin with his men gathered together, my heart rate kicks up a few notches. Kai is standing closest to me, and he turns at the sound of my approaching footsteps.
“What’s going on?” I ask him when his eyes don’t quite meet mine. They’re rounded, full of anger and I don’t know whether it’s aimed at me or whatever situation we’re in right now.
Stepping towards me, Kai levels up to face in the opposite direction. “It’s Aintree,” he mutters, finally glancing up at me to see my reaction.
I frown. “What about him?”
“Genovese found out he’d been talking to us.”
Just by his tone, I can tell what he’s not saying. I shouldn’t care, but the smallest part that does has me stepping forward, pushing through the group of men to finally see what everyone is huddled around.
Mason Aintree is lying battered and bruised, passed out on the floor of the Federov’s mansion. Blood pours from his face, his clothes ripped and torn from obviously being manhandled, and as if that wasn’t enough, there’s a note pinned—no stabbed—to his chest, held down by a pen knife.
Crouching down, I remove the note from Aintree’s chest, careful not to cause further injury.
“ What does it say?” Konstantin asks from behind me.
I unfold the paper and read the letters scrawled between splatters of blood. “ Moles belong underground.”
It’s a threat, one I know the Federovs won’t take lightly. The Five might have owned this city once upon a time, but the Russians will make damn sure to rip everything from under their feet.
“ If they want a war ? —”
“No,” I interrupt, shaking my head. “ This is our chance to meet with them. This is a message, and I think we should heed it.”
“And what message is that?” Vadim sneers beside his brother.
“That they’re one step ahead of us,” I answer. Spinning around, I approach Konstantin. He’s my boss, after all, not Vadim. Konstantin gets the final say while I advise him on the best strategy.
Nodding, Konstantin takes the note from me, surveying it carefully. “ What do you suggest?”
“I say we ask to meet with them. We need to salvage this, because nobody wants a war.”
“Not yet,” Vadim comments slyly.
I cut him a warning glare. There’s no way Konstantin will listen to me with his brother in one ear, and with the way he’s looking at me now, I’d say Vadim knows that.
“ Sir, The Five need to think they’ve got the upper hand. We need to think strategically.” I look to Konstantin, hoping he understands that to get what we want, we have to play into The Five’s hands.
“ I want more access to the docks,” Konstantin demands.
“ Then we need to agree to their terms first,” I advise.
Nodding, Konstantin rests a heavily accessorised hand on my shoulder. “ I trust you, Sovietnik.” He offers me a calm smile before turning his attention to his other soldiers. “ Clean this shit up!”
I wince at the command, glancing over my shoulder as four men pick up a lifeless Mason from the ground. It was only a couple weeks ago that this man was in my office, asking to be protected as I sat there and assured him he would be. I suppress the shiver of guilt that ripples through me as I watch Mason be carried through the front doors to the mansion and into the darkness. Doors slam outside, signalling their departure, and then there’s silence.
I take a minute to breathe, focusing on not feeling like a total liar. Even though this world is full of false promises and broken lies, it still hits when you see the result of your own deceit.
“I told you, you shouldn’t have lied,” Kai mutters beside me.
I hadn’t noticed he’d even approached again, but his presence is enough for me to snap back. “I don’t need your fucking told me so’s!”
Kai raises his hands in the air, like he’s somehow surrendering to my temper. “What’re you gonna do about Genovese?”
I’m already pulling my keys out of my pocket as I cross the threshold and stride into the damp night. “I’m going to handle it. Just like always.”
* * *
I t’s no surprise that the music is thumping as I reach the front steps to The Ravenite. My sources told me Alvaro would be here, so it goes without saying that Genovese will be with him. As soon as I’m about to step inside, a hand presses against my chest.
“You’re not welcome here,” the security guard grunts.
Offering a wry smile, I tilt my head and survey the burly man. “I need to speak to Bonanno,” I supply in response to the way his eyes narrow on me.
“He know you’re coming?”
Not yet. I keep that thought to myself as I pull out my phone and dial Alvaro’s number. Of course, it goes straight to voicemail. “Let him know we need to talk.”
The guy doesn’t ask any other questions, he knows exactly who I am. Turning on his heel, he guides me through the doors, through the hoards of people drinking and dancing, all the way to the bottom of the winding staircase that leads up to another floor.
A hand halts me from going any further. When I look back at the guy, I’m met with an unwavering glare that silently tells me to stay if I know what’s good for me.
Heeding his warning, I wait patiently for my presence to be announced. I already know how Alvaro is going to react, and the anticipation is killing me. After two weeks, I’m craving his company, even if it’s suffocated in irritation.
Minutes go by before I see Alvaro marching down the swirling staircase. I try to disguise the smile that’s begging to be shown because I was right— he looks like he’s chewed a wasp and is preparing to spit it at me.
Go for it. I’ll revel in it just because I know how much it’d piss him off.
“What are you doing here?” Varo growls at me, sliding his jacket aside with one hand to show off his gun.
“We got the message,” I reply.
His lips twist into a smirk, one that I’m trying to resist the urge to kiss off his face because he looks so effortlessly sexy.
“Can we talk somewhere privately?” I notice that he’s alone, but when I look up to the next level, Gambino is watching us like a hawk.
I’m expecting Varo to tell me to piss off or bark some shit off about him being in charge. Instead, he steps forward, pressing his chest against mine until I can feel his pulse against mine. “What makes you think I want to be alone in a room with you?”
So he wants to play it like that.
I counter his approach with my own, forcing him to back up slightly. “I don’t recall you complaining the last time we were alone, Bonanno.”
I’ve hit a nerve, and I’m not even sorry about it. Riling Alvaro up is a turn on. It’s so easy and satisfying, and all it takes is a few choice words to see the vein in his neck pulse uncontrollably.
His gaze flickers over me for a second before he mutters something under his breath and turns on his heel. I don’t know what he says, but it’s entertaining to see him unravel. Following him up the staircase, he takes a turn and heads to a door that’s ajar. Unsurprisingly, Haldon Gambino is seated at his desk with a suspicious look on his face. I don’t know what he knows about our dynamic, but if he’s been watching from above, there’s no mistaking the magnetising tension.
Alvaro marches towards a set of couches, taking a seat on one while gesturing to the other. It’s about as much hospitality as I’ll get out of the guy, and luckily, Haldon is the one to break the silence.
“What can we do for you, Kyrovsky?” Always the gentleman.
“The Federovs want a meeting to discuss the docks.”
Haldon’s brows raise in my direction. “No chance,” he grunts.
“After the shit you pulled tonight, I think you owe us that much.”
“What shit?” Alvaro barks.
Leaning back against the sofa, I observe him carefully. Either he’s playing dumb, or my presence really does piss him off. Though he was singing a different tune a couple weeks ago, so I’m left wondering whether he’s in denial over the attraction or he’s trying to ignore it. His lips are pinched together, his dark green eyes narrowed on me. I thread a finger between my collar and neck, letting the cool air soothe my heated skin. “Leaving Aintree on our doorstep,” I finally answer. “Not a smart move if you don’t want to start a war.”
“The fucking mole had it coming.”
I glance at Haldon, but he remains silent, watching our interaction like it’s about to implode. Returning my gaze back to Varo, I shake my head. “He was your guy.”
Leaning forward, Alvaro balances his elbows on his knees, glaring at me. If it wasn’t for the coffee table blocking his path, I’d be sure he was about to lunge for me. “And this is our city, Kyrovsky. What we do is up to us, and you damn well don’t get a fucking say.”
Even as he says the words, I can tell he wasn’t behind Aintree’s torture. The man would definitely have more to say about it if he had.
“All I’m saying, Bonanno, is that was a really stupid idea.” I let out a huff, but it’s cut short when the door to the office swings open and Roman Genovese marches in.
“Is that a threat?” he demands, pocketing his gun. “Because that would be a really stupid idea.” Roman comes to sit on the couch opposite me. When he does, Alvaro stands and edges towards Haldon’s desk, perching on the end.
“It’s not a threat,” I say, huffing out my irritation. “It’s a warning.” As much as I want to put these boys in their place—because that’s what they are—I hold back. They’re just kids playing ball in a sand pit, but the sand pit could swallow them up at any point and nobody would be surprised.
“You’re the enemy, Kyrovsky. We doubt you’re here to help us out,” Alvaro growls.
My gaze darts to Alvaro, and the way he stands like he’s about to put a bullet between my eyes is almost as hot as when I was down on my knees, sucking his cock. Yeah, I bet you haven’t told them about that, Bonanno. “No,” I chuckle, pushing that last thought from my mind. “I’m not. But I doubt you want your pretty heads on spikes. So, I suggest you accept the meeting.”
“Meeting?” Roman frowns, looking towards his friends.
Haldon cards his hands through his hair. I can tell he’s sick of this shit already, and I can’t blame him. I might be loyal to the Russians, but even I can see how this is going to end. “Apparently the Federovs want to meet with us tonight, to discuss the docks.”
“And the fact you’re no longer distributing their liquor,” I add boredly, catching Haldon off guard. “Might I remind you that this is a legacy agreement. Your fathers agreed to this, and?—”
“That was before you started fucking with my businesses. With our territory,” Roman snaps.
“Look,” I sigh, pushing up from the couch. “Don’t shoot the messenger. The Federovs want to see you tonight, and I’d suggest you take the meeting.” Though my words are meant for all three of them, my eyes linger on Varo, watching that damn vein in his neck pulse as he clenches his fists. Any second now, he’s going to explode.
“Where?” he finally asks through gritted teeth.
“The docks.”
“Time?”
I swing my gaze to Haldon. “Midnight.”
“Alone?” Roman clarifies, uncertainty lacing his word.
“Three and three.” I nod towards the three men, knowing they understand that neither will be outnumbered. Though I know they don’t trust me, it’s times like these that I can prove them wrong, or at least pretend.
“Done,” Haldon interjects.
Nodding in affirmation, I turn on my heel. “Good,” I say as I head towards the door. “Oh and Bonanno?” I grin knowingly, spinning to face him. “Stop frowning before you wrinkle that gorgeous face.”