Chapter 19 Vaughn
VAUGHN
I’ve realized with staggering disappointment that I don’t have friends.
Well, I do. I’ve always confided in Jeremy and even Nikolai despite our being worlds apart personality-wise. Killian and Gareth have been close to me all my life as well. There’s also Lidya, who’s been my friend since I was born.
But what I realized is that I would never talk to them about Yulian.
Or what happens with Yulian.
Or anything fucking Yulian.
I’d never talk out loud about sucking his cock and coming in his mouth.
That type of talk.
It’s a me problem, not my friends’.
I just can’t bring myself to even voice the rampant thoughts running through my head.
It’s been a week, and I’m burning—fucking suffocating at the memory of that night. It’s so fresh in my mind, as if it only happened yesterday.
I can almost taste him on my lips, my tongue, and all the way to my goddamn insides.
But no, I can’t just pick up the phone and call Jeremy or interrupt Lidya’s vigorous training for some upcoming championship just to…what? Vent? Like a fucking teen?
I didn’t even have that teenage phase. I’ve been a full-blown grown-up ever since I was thirteen or so, and I refuse to roll back in time at this stage of my life.
However, ever since I had lunch with Lidya the other day and felt the words get stuck in my throat, I’ve been wondering why I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. We’ve been close our whole lives, and while she might be surprised, she wouldn’t judge me.
Neither would Jeremy, and especially not Niko, Kill, and Gareth.
So as I was staring at my cousin, listening to all the progress she’s made in training and the minor wrist injury she’s dealing with, I thought maybe I was ashamed.
Maybe I’m embarrassed by my inexplicable fiery reaction to a man who could get me and himself killed. It’s not a matter of if, but when. Yulian is too untamed and couldn’t care less about the social code in our world, and that will get him in trouble sooner or later.
Maybe I’m self-conscious for not being able to control myself, or the impulse, or the actions I take when he’s around.
I’m certainly appalled that I can’t recognize myself when I’m with him, that I seem to transform into this entirely different person who matches that prick’s unhinged energy.
And I don’t like this new version of me or the incomprehensible chaos that comes with it or the damning reality that I can’t prevent it from taking over.
So I don’t understand why I’ve been traveling and showing up in his space, just so I can feel that way in his company, even if it’s only for a short period of time.
Half a day—no, an hour.
Sometimes, a few minutes are enough.
But that doesn’t eradicate the sense of shame.
It’s not that I’m ashamed of my attraction to Yulian.
I think I’ve had it for longer than I can remember or admit. But I suppose I’m ashamed of what that means.
The twist in my sexuality. The deviation from the picture-perfect life I traced for myself.
The fucking complication.
The reality I refused to confront for such a long time is slithering from its dormant habitat and exploding in my face.
And I don’t know how to deal with it—this new…sexual orientation.
The only person I know who’s had a similar experience is Niko, but he’s been out for such a long time, and I can’t tell him shit, because he’s bad with secrets, and my fragile sexuality might accidentally slip.
That would fucking end me. My parents. Everything they’ve worked for.
Yes, Nikolai also comes from the mafia, but it’s different for him. His parents are leaders, but his dad isn’t at the top, and he wasn’t groomed to be the future Pakhan, so he has more leeway.
But even then, he can’t act as flamboyant in front of the older members.
Aside from Niko, there’s also my uncles, but I’m not sure how to broach the subject with them, and I seriously don’t want them to find out and subsequently tell Mom.
So in a way, this sexual confusion comes with extreme limiting conditions, and it’s been driving me fucking insane.
Add the fact that Yulian has gone radio silent since the day he stormed out of the hotel suite, and I’m on the edge.
I’ve been filling my days with distraction—shooting, joining operations, working out, studying, sitting through meetings—anything to make sure I don’t have a second of free time.
But when night comes, it all caves in. I lie awake, tossing and turning, then end up scrolling through his old texts, watching his stupid videos on repeat.
It’s so unlike him to ghost me, not when he was the pushiest pushy of all fucking pushers.
He did say he only wanted to fuck once and that’s it. But that wasn’t fucking.
I think.
My experience in gay sex is limited to Google searches, some porn, and an unhealthy amount of Reddit threads. Let’s say I went down a rabbit hole after that night.
Yes, the night I had an existential crisis and came to the conclusion I’m definitely not straight.
Which brings me to the only person I can actually talk to.
It’s a guy who made a thread talking about his confusion about his sexual awakening after meeting his superior.
I messaged him on Reddit, and we’ve been kind of talking for the past week or so.
Even with that, I was apprehensive about letting anything slip. I’m extremely wary about a data breach or anything of the sort, which is why I have no form of social media.
Except, well, for phantom accounts I use to “look around” sometimes.
At any rate, I might have had someone hack into the guy’s Reddit profile, just to know who he is. I can’t be talking to him just to find out he’ll sell my information or use anything I say to hurt my parents.
And color me surprised when I figured out it’s none other than Gareth.
Yes, the Gareth Carson.
Turns out, that night at the Serpents’ mansion, he was already tangled up in his new obsession—his criminal law professor, of all people.
Gareth, the Heathens’ golden boy. The fixer.
The one forever patching up Killian’s messes and dragging Niko out of trouble.
Aside from Jeremy and me, he’s the only one with a level head.
Or so I thought.
Because his Reddit version, or I should call it his true self, is, in fact, petty, narcissistic, and downright sociopathic.
I’m actually impressed by how he’s managed to hide that from the public eye for so long.
Still, knowing his identity made me more comfortable speaking to him. I only created that account to lurk in subreddits and now to talk to Gareth.
We’re basically going through the same thing, though he’s much more resistant about admitting his sexuality.
I suppose it’s not fun realizing in your twenties that you like dick as well as pussy, but I’m surprisingly not as worried about it as Gareth, who seems to be having existential crises on a daily basis.
I’m logical enough to admit I enjoyed sucking Yulian’s cock and swallowing his cum.
More than enjoyed.
A part of me has been itching for another hit since that night, wondering how I survived without this for so long.
I stare out at Washington DC’s luminous sidewalks as the car cruises the streets heading toward the event I’m attending with my parents and a few other leaders. They went ahead first because my father is always huge on security, so he needed to check that personally.
On the surface, this charity is all about medical innovation. In reality, it’s a nest of vipers.
The Boston branch is hosting, having invited most of the Bratva in the States—our own, plus Seattle, Florida, and, of course, Chicago.
Uncle Adrian, Jeremy’s father, and my own were reluctant to attend, and for good reason. With all the major branches under one roof, it’s the perfect breeding ground for an attack.
Even with security supposedly locked down on all sides and Boston’s leaders swearing they’ve taken every measure, the risk is written in blood.
But skipping wasn’t an option. Not when every other branch is showing up. That would scream weakness, and we don’t do weakness. So our side had to send my parents, Uncle Adrian, and Nikolai’s parents—Aunt Rai and Uncle Kyle—backed by a wall of security.
I didn’t have to come; Jeremy and Nikolai aren’t here. But I’ve always shadowed my father, studying his every move. And since this is probably the biggest Bratva gathering I’ve ever seen, no way in hell was I missing it.
There’s also that pesky thing where I don’t want to give myself free time to overthink.
As the car takes me to my destination, I pull out my phone and frown when I find no new texts. I even scroll to the conversation with Yulian, double-checking just in case the notification got lost somewhere.
It didn’t.
With a sigh, I switch to my exchanges with Gareth on Reddit. He named himself TooPrettyForThisMess like a true narcissist. I picked QuietRage because, really, I’ve been feeling a fire simmering at the surface without the right ammunition to explode.
QuietRage
Any updates?
TooPrettyForThisMess
Well… I let him fuck me and that might have been the best sex of my life. Kill me.
Wow, weren’t you so adamant about never getting fucked? You folded fast.
Shut up. Don’t judge me.
I’m not. Truly. I’m glad you gave in to your feelings.
There are NO FEELINGS.
You don’t have to use caps. I TOTALLY believe you.
VERY funny. Anyway, what about you? Will you be moving to fucking anytime soon, or are you completely fine with pining?
I’m not pining.
Dude, you’ve been having dreams about him.
That’s nothing. It’s subconscious.
Sure is if you obsessively think about him before going to sleep.
Will you stop now?
Nah. But seriously, what’s stopping you?
It’s complicated…
I’m a complicated specialist. Give it to me straight—or gay, whatever fits.
I just can’t be in a relationship with a man. It’s simply impossible with my type of entourage.