14. Allesandro
I stumble into my office, my hands shaking as the weight of everything presses against me. Reality has suddenly become the most terrifying nightmare of all… And yet, what can I do? What the fuck can I do?
Fuck! I close my eyes, pressing my palms against them. I can’t unsee my Boy drenched in blood, gasping for air. He’s always so steady, and now? What the fuck do I do?
Doc better be as good as he swears he is, because if Chaos dies… No. I can’t go there. I won’t allow it. He can’t die. Not him…
I yank at my hair, my mind spinning out of control.
The race to the gym, feet slapping across the hallways. Getting there to see the blood pooled around Ignacio’s broken body. I had to fight against my instincts when Doc took over. All I wanted was to hold my Boy…
I whirled around, stalking toward my Sweetheart, demanding why. His eyes… those tortured eyes. My heart broke at his two-word answer. “My son.”
I tried for more, but Cristian closed in on himself. Unwilling to talk. Finally, throwing up my hands, I stalked out.
Washing the blood from my skin and staring at the mirror…
Everything has changed.
Swallowing, I force my hands down, opening my eyes as I stumble toward my desk.
How can I condemn a fellow boss… and more, a father?
I can’t, even though my soul cries for my Chaos.
Part of me wants to demand recompense. The same as I’d do to any Boy.
But I can’t. He’s another Boss. He’s not under my domain, despite the feelings developing between us.
I keep my eyes averted from the Martelli motto. It’s ringing hollow in my heart right now.
Nothing is going right. Nothing since coming home has made sense. Suddenly, the men are challenging us. Fuck, I’m watching the only man I’ve given my heart to fall in love with another man. One who rebuffs my attempt at domination.
Cringing, I hate that I pushed him too far. I try to take deep breaths as I sit, but it’s like the air is being sucked out of the room. Shame builds inside me. Emilio has taught me better than to impose my rule. He’s my compass when I’m lost…
My father’s voice, never far, slithers into my mind. Reminding me. Urging me.
“Never give your heart. Never show weakness. I will break you, and by doing so, I’ll teach you how to break others. No son of mine will be weak. You can’t afford to be. Not if you want to be safe, not if you want to keep those who rely on you safe.”
I shudder, hating it. His mocking tone. His cruelty. The torture he inflicted, on his men and on me. I let him twist me, mold me, force me to act as his heir, as the Il Padrone to the Martelli Family.
Twin flames live inside me. One is an icy acceptance for his ways, and the other is a fiery spite that urges me to change, to be better. It's my uncle’s voice, joined by Lio’s. Teaching me, letting me see there’s more out there.
And yet, shut away in a cage, stripped of our mantels, those flames didn’t die. They couldn’t be smothered. The feelings I have for Cristian, the respect, spurred me to believe in the fiery spite.
But then we got home…everything was torn asunder. Two Families were united, but not through us, their Bosses. Instead, they’ve torn apart everything Cristian and I fought for, like it’s nothing. As if the time we spent together, our time held in captivity, meant nothing to them…
Bitterness wells up inside me, the need to vomit pushing against me as everything spins out of control. Fear. Worry. It whirls around me, twisting me, mocking me, stealing my very breath.
“As my heir, you must learn to be cold. The steel of your dagger is no match for the steel that’s inside. I will tear you down until you don’t react, until you grasp that you cannot have warmth.
“Instead, you must find the icy tendrils inside you, and push foolish empathy and relationships aside. You must control yourself—and others. Their will needs to become your will. That’s how this Family survives. And if it takes beating you every hour of the day, I will make you understand.”
My phone vibrates, jarring me from the nightmares of the past. Startling, I grab it, surprised to find my hands shaking. The nausea comes back even harder as the texts roll in. From my Boys. And…from my love. Is he my love? Fuck…
Unable to handle anymore, I push everything away and let my phone drop onto the desk. For once, I draw on the lessons from my father without grief, but with gratitude. Because the cold is what I need.
My breathing steadies as I draw the frozen shell toward me, even as my heart flinches from it. But it won’t be permanent. No, just long enough to regain my sanity. It’s slipped, and this has worked in the past. It’s how we built our forces.
I briefly imagine Emilio’s heartbroken face, but I shake my head against the foolishness. No, he’ll understand and he’ll forgive. He’ll have to. Because I’m Il Padrone…and my word is law. Always.
There can only be one Il Padrone. One Master. One Boss. And the Boys must answer to me—or else. My word will be law once again. And the Family will fall in line.