Chapter 14
Matt
For our first safehouse after the attack, I use some of the remaining Syndicate funds to purchase a sprawling mansion outside the city.
A bit opulent and conspicuous, but necessary.
It’s the only location that has enough rooms to accommodate our needs, and it’s easy enough to guard.
Prebuilt wrought iron fencing helps, along with the included high-end security system.
It also came fully furnished, which saved us a few bucks.
Aron chides me for buying such a huge property right out of the gate, but hiding is a sign of weakness.
Let Javier see that we’re not as decimated as he hoped we’d be.
The traitorous asshole probably thought he’d wiped us clean when he emptied the accounts he could access.
I’d wager he didn’t count on Dad’s paranoia splitting our funds to protect the Syndicate from his eventual betrayal.
Word of the purchase reaches our allies, and they trickle in a handful at a time, some injured by the scattered attacks but most healthy enough to help.
Javier was gracious enough not to attack the doctors on our payroll. No hospitals were hit, so the men who were injured get taken care of on the spot. We have to raid a few pharmacies for supplies and antibiotics, but overall, it could have been much worse.
What concerns me more than anything is the fact that roughly one third of our numbers that remain missing didn’t end up in the morgue, at least not according to Dr. Nilczek, who snuck down to check and see which toe tags belonged to our people.
Dad was among them, and a few others, but some of those who are unaccounted for aren’t dead as far as we can tell.
Odds are they defected to join Javier, which could pose a problem later on.
We’re not supposed to form tight bonds in this line of work, but friendships are bound to build after decades of working together, and if we have to face off against the traitors, some of the men might balk at shooting their former allies.
Of the men who check in, about twenty were displaced by the explosive attacks.
The mansion’s big, but not big enough to individually house everyone who lost their home.
Some of our people will have to share space until we can buy up a few more properties.
I don’t want to blow all our remaining funds too soon, and I don’t want to draw any more attention than the mansion is sure to attract.
Speaking of attracting attention … a certain grenade-throwing traitor shows up at the front gate on the morning of Day Four, trembling and crying into the intercom.
“Boss? Boss! Don Matteo! It’s Beto. Please, boss, let me in!”
I turn to Aron, who’s watching a different monitor. “What’s the word, Aron?”
“Sensors are showing he’s wired. Dad probably sent him to finish us off, but there’s not enough explosives to even dent the gate.”
Leaning close to the microphone, I press a button. “Beto, I’m sorry, but we’re currently at capacity.”
“No! Boss, I swear, Javier put me up to it! He forced me! I’d never betray you, Don.”
“Never’s a strong word, Beto. I mean, saying ‘I’d never betray you’ is like saying ‘I’d never throw a live grenade into your apartment.’ It’s kind of hard to trust your ‘never’ under those circumstances.”
“Boss, please!”
“I’m terribly sorry, Beto. Do give my father my regards when you meet him on the other side.”
Judging by the timing of Beto’s demise, Javier’s either watching or listening from somewhere remotely. I couldn’t have timed it better if I’d pressed the button myself. The second I shut off the intercom after saying my piece, Beto explodes into a splattered mess on the drive.
Aron sighs. “Should I send someone to clean that up?”
“Let the crows have their fill first. Besides, seeing what’s left of him might be deter further assassination attempts.”
A dark expression crosses Aron’s face, but since there are others in the room, I don’t ask him about it. I’ll wait until tonight, after most of the mansion’s residents are asleep.
So far, no one seems the wiser on our new relationship.
Aron still acts as my guard, and I refrain from public displays of affection until I’m sure my position as the next don is solidified.
The last thing we need is a mass exodus of once-loyal members because of a little homophobia.
Aron and I tossed around the idea of me taking a public-facing girlfriend, someone I can show off during the day while my guard and I continue to build our connection at night.
Aron even picked out a woman for me.
The Syndicate, while mostly a male-oriented organization, does have a few female members who are more than wives or girlfriends of our employees, women who run aspects that require more finesse.
For instance, rather than having a potentially abusive male pimp, Dad hired a woman to manage our sex workers.
Francine runs a tight ship, and in the twenty years since Dad signed her on, we haven’t had a single instance of STIs or violent Johns.
All our women know how to protect themselves in more ways than one, and if a client runs afoul of Francine, they’re taken care of swiftly and efficiently.
In addition to Francine and her crew, we have women from all walks of life at various levels of the organization, and it’s from this pool that Aron selects my “bride to be.”
Cinder is twenty-three, conventionally attractive, and secretly one of our deadliest assassins.
She’s also a hardcore lesbian who would rather never see my dick if she can avoid it, so the arrangement works out.
One of our better-known female guards takes the role as Aron’s counterpart, and the two of them take the adjoining guards’ quarters every night while Aron and I share the master bed.
The arrangement almost works out too well, as Cinder and Gia hit it off immediately. Every night, Aron and I laugh as the two women make quite the racket next door.
In an interesting and convenient turn of events, our night guards have assumed—and spread rumor—that Aron and Gia are fucking each other at the same time as Cinder and I are supposedly screwing.
We haven’t corrected anyone, but the four of us find it amusing, and one hapless associate even came up to Aron to commend him for moving on after Emily’s death.
“Tito would be proud,” the young gangster said, and it took everything I had not to snicker in front of him.
Remembering Aron’s expression from earlier, I nudge him about it as soon as Cinder and her date shut their door, while we’re sitting together in bed.
At first, Aron deflects the question, stating unease at seeing Beto’s body on the monitor.
I know that’s a load of horse shit, though, because Aron has certainly witnessed his share of explosions in his time guarding me, so that wasn’t his first experience with flying body parts.
“Aron, you’re full of shit. You’ve seen blown-up bodies before. Hell, you’ve blown them up. So, what’s the real deal here?”
He sighs and leans into me. “Dad sent Beto with a bomb—a grenade, rather—to try to kill you. Face it; he was probably hoping you’d let Beto in, try to help him, and get blown up in the process. And if you were at risk of being blown up, who do you think would try to stop it?”
Ah, so that’s where this is coming from. “You, of course.”
“Exactly. Dad sent a bomb to us knowing I’d probably jump on it to save you. My own father, who blew up my wife and child, was willing to risk killing me if it meant getting to you.”
“He had to have known we wouldn’t let Beto in,” I say, rubbing Aron’s back slowly. “I doubt this was intended to kill either one of us. If anything, it was a blatant warning, one I fully intend to ignore.”
Aron’s eyes drift closed as I work the knots out of his back and shoulders.
“Dad isn’t someone you should ignore, Matt.
He learned from the best, after all. Tito taught him everything, taught him too well it seems. Dad got to everyone at the top of the Royal Syndicate, and now he’s lying in wait for …
something. I don’t know what he’s got planned, but it can’t be good for us. ”
I work my way down his back, kneading his hips. “We’ll get through this, Aron. Don’t let your dad and his schemes ruin things.”
He takes my hands and pulls them into his lap, rubbing my knuckles with his thumbs.
“He already ruined things, Matt. We’re functioning on half the funds we used to, with only a handful of veterans who survived the explosions.
We’ll have to train those new recruits you mentioned—after we recruit them, that is—and refill our coffers. ”
“All of which is entirely possible.” I kiss his neck and pull him back against my chest. “Now, let’s get Javier out of our minds and focus on other things for a while.”
“You can’t fix everything with sex, Matt.”
“Maybe not,” I say, sliding a hand under the waistband of his boxers, “but it’s sure as hell fun to try.”
One of the benefits of knowing each other as well as we do is that Aron is fully aware of my ability to multitask. I’ve successfully run multimillion dollar criminal enterprises all while stuffing the ass of my latest conquest, so this is nothing new for me.
“Get on your knees, Aron.”
“Matt, this isn’t really the time.”
“Sure, it is.” Wrapping my hand around his shaft, I stroke him until he’s firm beneath my fingers. “See? You need this, Aron. You’re too tense. There’s only so much I can do by rubbing your back. Let me work some of this out of your system.”
I glide the pad of my thumb over his wet slit, and Aron moans. “Fuck … I can’t argue when you do that …”
“That, my love, is precisely the point. Now, get on your knees for me.”
He finally gives in and positions himself. I grab the lube from the nightstand and apply it liberally to my cock before taking two wet fingers and sliding them into Aron’s ass. He moans again and starts stroking himself while I leisurely fingerfuck him.
“You like that, Aron? Like it when I fill you? Just wait until I replace these fingers with my cock. I’m gonna fuck you hard, baby. Ride you till you come all over these designer sheets.”
“Please, Matt …”
“That’s it. Beg for me. Work for it.” I twist my fingers and add a third. “Come on, baby. Fuck my hand. Show me how much you want this.”
Aron pushes back, riding my fingers. He groans quietly, barely audible over the ruckus next door, but more than loud enough to excite me.
I stroke his ass cheek with my free hand, giving him a gentle smack before pulling my fingers out to make way for my throbbing cock.
It’s time for me to show Aron how he makes me feel.
I shudder and gasp when my tip pushes in, and Aron clenches around me. Everything about him is so firm and tight … I have to focus to keep from nutting too soon. I want to savor this.
Inch by inch, I ease in. Aron sighs, stiffens, but a whispered admonition from me prevents him from taking control. He should know better; I like to be in charge.
My eyes flutter closed as I begin to thrust. Our balls slap against each other, making a comical sound, but there's nothing humorous about this moment. It’s the perfect union of two men in love, the perfect physical manifestation of our emotional connection.
Aron rises up on his knees from all fours to reach behind himself and grip my hair with both hands.
The sting on my scalp eggs me on, and I thrust faster.
In the past, I’ve usually paired up with men who were smaller than me, shorter, with thinner frames.
Even that no-name in the gym was a little smaller than me.
Aron and I are about the same size, though, and I’m thrilled to fuck someone who’s a little bigger, a little meatier, and more muscular. This is absolutely perfect.
We grunt in time with my pumping hips. I bite Aron’s earlobe gently, and he turns his head to meet my lips. We devour each other like starved animals, like we’re feral.
Time stops. The world stops. Everything else is forgotten in our passion. Even Javier gets pushed to the back of my mind as I slam into his son.
It’s perfect. He’s perfect.
After coming almost in sync, Aron and I collapse in a tangled pile of limbs on the bed.
We huff and pant, catching our breath, and as we explore each other’s bodies, we make out.
Before I realize what’s happening, Aron has me hard again.
He kisses his way down to my cock and sucks me off so expertly I’d almost swear he’s done this before, using lips, tongue, teeth, and hands to bring me to another explosive climax.
While I lie there trembling from the aftershocks, Aron snuggles up to me and strokes my hair, whispering soft promises of love and revenge.
“We’ll show Javier, baby. We’ll make him regret ever fucking with the Mangione family.”