10. Alek
ALEK
Butch and Dante show up to the room just seconds after Tommy leaves. I’m still adjusting the buttons on my shirt when I answer the door. It’s almost too easy to switch into the role of Trevor. It gives me an excuse not to think about what I just did in this room with…him.
“Smells like sex in here,” Dante comments the second I close the door behind us.
I chuckle softly. “Never hooked up after an event?” I ask him. “She just left.”
“You didn’t have to throw her out on our account,” Butch says with a smile. “We might’ve joined the party.”
The idea of either of these jackasses putting their hands or dicks on Tommaso makes my hands ball into fists. I try to keep my composure.
“Three is a crowd,” I mumble and walk over to the minibar, grabbing a small bottle of liquor. I’m going to need it if I have to talk to these two for very long.
I can still taste Tommy on my mouth…his kiss, his blood… It’s warm and musky. All I can do as I stand here drinking out of the too small glass bottle is think about the feeling of him wrapped around my cock. The way he moaned and squirmed underneath me.
It shouldn’t have happened. When he told me what he wanted, I should have gotten up and told him to leave. Instead, I played into it—because I wanted it too.
I wanted to take him. Hard and rough. I wanted to show him exactly who I was. Not some weakling he can take control of and expect to do anything he’s told, but the one in charge. The one who can put him on his knees and make him beg for mercy.
So, I had him. I’d tied him up and listened to him beg for me to fuck him even harder. To bite him, mark him… The marks I left on his body would be there for weeks to come, and I know it’s all I’ll be able to think about when he’s near.
God, he’s so infuriating…it only makes me want him more.
Guilt and irritation climb my spine as I toss the little bottle into the trash near the minifridge and finally turn to look at Butch and Dante again.
“Did you take care of things?” I ask them.
“No one will know what happened,” Dante confirms, his brows pulling together slightly. “It’s a shame about Petra.”
“Yeah, she was fine,” Butch agrees and pats Dante on the back.
I glare at them, but quickly shake it off. It doesn’t matter if they’re being disgusting about the dead, they’ll get theirs soon enough. Besides, do I really care about Petra?
Regardless, I change the subject. “Good. I need to talk to the boss about the Calvers,” I tell them. “Lucas Calver approached me at the party.”
“Those outcasts?” Butch asks with a chuckle. “Lemme guess, they want a piece of our action?”
I nod my head. “Something like that. Plus, we need to talk about the kidnapping. Carmine knows what we’re up to now. They’re not going to give us another chance anytime soon.”
Dante clicks his tongue. “Damn. Should’ve just grabbed him while you could.”
I step closer to the both of them. “You think I wouldn’t have?” I ask, lowing my tone. “The boss told me not to cause a scene. There was no way for me to grab Carmine after Petra and Raff went down without fucking the whole thing up. I’d have brought civilians into this shit.”
“Ah, what’s a couple?” Butch shrugs. “You could’ve gotten him down.”
“Were you there?” I ask him, grabbing him by the front of his collar. “Were you the one who watched two of our family get killed in cold blood and had to make a decision at the last second to save your own life and keep our secret intact?”
Butch went quiet.
“I didn’t think so,” I let go of his shirt and brush my own suit jacket down, buttoning it so the bullet holes in my shirt weren’t visible.
“Let’s just get back home,” Dante insists. “Boss doesn’t want you staying here all night incase some of the Dresvannis show up. They’re staying here too.”
“Couldn’t you grab him from the hotel?” Butch asks as we head out of the door.
“I don’t know… If you were almost kidnapped tonight, how many armed guards do you think you’d have at your door?” I ask him lowly.
He grumbles. “It was just a question, asshat.”
“And I gave you a fucking answer.” I step in front of him, nearly tripping him and walk ahead of him to the car.
Thankfully, Butch is the one driving us back to the Bianchi estate, and I’m in the back while Dante is in the passenger seat, so while I have to listen to them bicker and bitch, I mostly get to sit in peace and quiet.
Unfortunately for me, the silence means I have more time to think about what I’ve just done with Tommy in the hotel room.
My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. She would never understand. Would she?
We never had the time to talk about it. What she would want for me if she died. We lived our lives in the moment and only wanted to think about the good parts of the future, not the possible tragedies…
I’m certain, though, that what she would want for me isn’t hooking up with some guy I can barely stand. Using his body and letting him use my own.
Guilt is sharp and stings in my chest, and a lump forms in my throat. Am I really so desperate for connection? Or is it more than that? Is it Tommaso specifically?
No, it can’t be. I haven’t felt for anyone in years, and I’m not starting now. It only brings pain and suffering; I know this firsthand.
I try not to think about it anymore as I stare out of the window of the car. Not to think about Tommy’s skin under my hands, his body underneath mine, and the sound of his voice moaning for me. The look in his eyes when we finished. The pleasure, the bliss.
It’s easier said than done.
However, eventually we get to the Bianchi estate and I’m forced to put my mask back on. The mask of Trevor. I step out of the car and into the early spring air wearing only my suit, and walk ahead of Butch and Dante into the house.
When I get inside, I head right for Stephan’s office, not needing to be told to do so. He’s sitting at his desk just where I expect him to be.
“Petra and Raff will be buried in the family graveyard,” he tells me right away. “You were right to maintain your distance and not get involved afterward.”
Butch and Dante stand behind me, and I can’t help but smirk at being told I did the right thing.
“I knew you didn’t want me to make a scene, but damn if it wasn’t hard not going after him after what he did,” I say. I curl my hands into fists.
“We’ll get him, don’t you worry,” Stephan promises me. “We’ll get all of them.”
I nod slowly. “They’ll be on edge now. They know we’re watching them, they got rid of the bugs in their house and almost got a hold of our undercover men. What’s the plan now?” I ask.
Stephan steeples his hands on the desk. “I need some time to talk it out with my sons, he motions to Butch and Dante. “I didn’t want them getting involved in the kidnapping, but they might need to get involved for this next step.”
“What is the next step?” I ask. Trying to get as much information direct from the source as I can. The more intel I can get, the more I can bring back to the Dresvannis…the faster we can get this done.
“Well, for you… I’m not sure, you tell me.” He motions a hand toward me. It’s the last thing I want.
I sigh softly and sit down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. Butch and Dante remain standing behind me. Like big statues.
“The Carvels approached him at the gala,” Dante speaks for me. “They want a piece of the action.”
Stephan raises a brow. “Oh, did they?”
“Yeah,” I say slowly. “Lucas Calver tried smooching up to me, but I turned him down. Finally, he told me that the Calvers want to talk to us. Want to cut a deal. They recently got some new weapons, an arms deal, and think they could be of some use to us.”
Stephan purses his lips and leans back in his chair. “We could use some more men on our side,” he agrees.
“They don’t have many men left,” I remind him.
“We could take all they got though,” Butch says.
I try not to turn my head and glare at him. I’m trying to make the Calvers look as bad or boring of a choice as possible and he’s not making it easy.
“Why don’t you go talk to them, Trevor?” Stephan asks of me. I know that he isn’t actually asking, though. He’s telling me.
I clear my throat. “What do you want me to ask?” I tilt my head to the side. “Or, what do you want me to keep an eye out for, boss?”
“You’ll know what to look out for, but make sure they’ve got these arms they’re claiming to have. Make them show you.” Stephan smiles softly. “Even if you have to use some force. They’re the little guys, if you have to wipe them out…so be it.”
“I’ll go with him,” Butch insists.
Damnit.
I was hoping to go alone and wipe them out, whether or not they actually have the arms.
“I think one man is enough for this job,” I insist, but I try not to sound too objecting.
Stephan shakes his head. “I think it’s a good idea that Butch goes with you. He’s handled the Carvels before.”
I nod my head. “Got it.” I know better than to argue with the man. “We’ll go first thing tomorrow morning.”
I’m not kidding. The second the sun comes up I’m showering and getting dressed to go see what the Calver’s really want and if they have all these guns they claim to have.
There’s a large part of me hoping that they’re just playing the Bianchi, but…
if they are, then I’m part of who they’re playing.
I’m not interested in walking into a trap.
I’ve got bigger fish to fry than the Calvers.
Butch is waiting for me downstairs holding two mugs of coffee, one black and one with cream and sugar, he hands me the one with cream and sugar.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
The two of us head to Butch’s car instead of mine and I slide into the passenger seat. I’m letting him drive and feel like the leader in all this, thinking it might cloud his judgement. The more he thinks I’m cool letting him boss me around, the more I can slide past him.
“It might be a set up,” I warn him.
Butch grins at me. “Good, I could use some target practice.”
I grin back at him and sip at my coffee. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Especially if that target practice includes him.