Chapter 6 #2
“Why are you doing this, really, Soren?” Carmine asks me all of the sudden. Breaking the silence between us. I’m uncertain how long it’s been.
I meet his eyes, and see my own heated reflection in his. I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket but I ignore it. Whoever it is can wait.
“No one can know Jackson died by my hands for you,” I tell him. “Your cleaners will do the job of making sure no one knows he was ever there. I’m doing the same for you.”
I step just a little bit closer. “Unless you want everyone to know what happened in that office?”
Carmine’s eyes narrow. “Nothing happened.”
“Exactly.”
I begin to clean him off again, but I hesitate to finish, not wanting the moment to end. When I set the final pad down, having gotten most of the blood off his skin, I bring my fingers up and brush them along his jaw line while he looks me right in the eyes.
“What are you doing?” he asks, tilting his face away from my hand.
“Just checkin’, don’t get your panties in a bunch.”
His breath catches for a second as my fingers slide up toward his ear and down his neck.
Carmine’s hand swings up and grabs my wrist. “I have a feeling you’re enjoying this a bit too much,” he accuses me.
I tug my hand away from his grasp and stare down at him.
“Is that a problem?” I ask.
He stares back at me. I wait for an answer that never comes. Instead, he steps back from me, takes his suit jacket off and starts unbuttoning his shirt.
“I assume you have clothing for me to change into? If you don’t want anyone to see the blood.” Carmine raises a brow.
My mouth goes dry as I watch him unbutton his shirt the rest of the way and his mostly smooth chest is revealed. Seeing it in person is different than on a camera… That much I know.
I blink, trying to get my thought together. “Ah, yeah. There’s a few different shirts in the bedroom.” I motion out of the kitchen.
I can’t go with him, if I do, I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to stop myself from coming onto him.
My dick twitches in my pants just watching him turn around away from me shirtless. I watch his bare back, speckled in freckles and small scars leave the kitchen and disappear from view.
“Does this mean you’ll let me work with you?” I call after him, remembering what this whole thing was about.
I wait a second, not hearing anything until I’m grabbing my phone from my pocket.
“You’re on thin ice!” Carmine calls back.
I smirk.
That’s a yes.
“When I call you, you answer the bloody phone,” Eivor hisses at me not two seconds after I’ve walked into the house. He already cursed me the fuck out over the phone when I called him back after taking Carmine home. It doesn’t surprise me that he’s continuing it.
“If I’m not in the middle of cleanin’ up a mess, I do,” I remind him.
I glare at him as he stands maybe a foot in front of me.
Blocking my entrance into the living room where the Christmas tree still sits, sans gifts.
It looks more and more like a rotting corpse of wood and flaking pine needles by the minute.
My uncle grunts out a grumble of some kind before taking a step back.
“You better tell me what trouble you were getting into,” he demands. “What is happening with the Dresvanni boy? You mentioned him on the phone. I want details.” His face crinkled and brow furrowed in his agitation.
Frustration boiled under my skin, in my blood, and urged me to react to him in the same way. With sharp words and spitting.
“Jackson Carvel tried to kill him,” I tell him, barely managing not to snap. Lately, I’m growing more and more tired of the tension between us, and I seem to be the only one willing to hold myself back.
“What?” Eivor asks, and my aunt comes up from behind as well.
“Why didn’t you let him?” she asks. “This is exactly what we need, Soren.”
My shoulders stiffen. I remind myself this is family. This is what they want. What is best for us. Isn’t it?
They think so.
“Alessio would never work with me,” I explain. “Carmine is the best option right now. I’m just gettin’ closer to him and you two want me to let him get shanked?”
Eivor sighs. “He’s right.”
Damn, hearing that could make me hard if it wasn’t coming from him.
“Let’s move this to the family room. I called you home for a reason,” my uncle says and waves me in. I almost expect to see more of the family in here. He acts like it’s some big meeting. The only person in there is Rosalie, and she’s reading a book.
“You’re finally home,” she comments as she looks up from the book.
“Rose, go read in the library, would you, dear?” Patricia asks her. It’s clear that it’s more of an order than anything else.
“Why should I?” Rosalie asks. “I’m just as much of a part of this. I should be helping out more.”
Eivor sighs. “Your help isn’t needed right now. Soren is taking charge of this.”
I cross my arms as I sit down beside Rosalie. “If I’m in charge, then I’m fine with her staying. She should be in the loop.”
Rosalie smiles and elbows me affectionately.
“You’re in charge of getting closer to the Dresvannis, not deciding what happens in this house, Soren. Don’t forget that,” Eivor reminds me.
My face falls and I just look at him waiting.
He sits down beside Patricia on the couch opposite us. He motions his hand, and she moves to grab the bottle of whiskey and pour him a double.
“I’m glad you’re getting closer to Carmine,” Eivor tells me.
I tilt my head to the side, and look at the bottle as it’s placed back down on the coffee table. After a second, I grab it and pour myself some in a small crystal glass as well.
“I saved his life. He may not like me, or trust me, but he owes me,” I reply.
I take a sip as I lean back. It burns slightly going down my throat.
I try to imagine how Carmine can stomach a gallon of his shit a day.
The second sip goes down smoother, the third even more so.
By the time my uncle finally speaks again, I’m slightly warm and fuzzy.
I suddenly understand how.
“I want you to use that to take advantage of them,” he tells me. “Get closer to him, and if he owes you like you say, it should be no problem.”
My tongue darts over my lips and I look toward the fireplace as I speak. The fire crackling and waving in hot flashes of orange and yellow. It reminds me of how I felt when I saw Jackson with Carmine… Burning hot, unstoppable. A second away from destroying everything.
“What do you want from them?” I ask. “Besides access to the club. Long term, Eivor. What are we talkin?”
Eivor chuckles. “Always thinking down the line. It’s one of the things I like about you.”
“I didn’t think you liked anything.” I raise a brow. Then my stomach tightens. “Well. More than one thing.”
My uncle eyes me for a moment and hums. “You think too low of yourself. Perhaps of me. You’re not just my nephew; you’re like my son. You’re the only one I trust with this job, Soren.”
I take another drink, because I don’t like the way he’s looking at me, and it’s the only thing stopping me from throwing the glass at him.
I can’t deny that my uncle is a smart man. He’s always taken care of me and my sister. This family is all I have, and all I’m pretty sure I’ll ever have.
“Are you going to answer the question?” I ask.
“Soren,” Rosalie scoffs and smacks me in the face.
I blink in surprise, and smack her back, right in the chest out of instinct.
“Ow, dick!” she yelps. “That was my fucking tit.”
“Rosalie, if you can’t keep your hands to yourself—” Patricia starts, but Rosalie cuts her off.
“Fine! Fine, I’ll sit here and be good and listen,” she mumbles, and settles back into the couch like a toddler who’s been scolded.
Eivor shakes his head. “The two of you, just like when you were younger.”
There’s a long pause as he takes his final drink and then motions my aunt to pour him more.
“The goal you ask…” he finally gets to it.
“Taking them down, of course. They’re unwilling to give us what we truly want.
I’m not going to give them access to this city for a mere token of their power, access to their club…
shared resources. No. I want to be on top.
They want to be on top. We can’t both be on top. ”
I hear Rosalie trying to muffle a snicker beside me. I can’t help but smirk softly, but I quickly compose myself. Realizing what it means.
“You’re not willing to agree to allyship at all?” I ask him, narrowing my eyes.
“Hell no. There’s no way they’re splitting fifty-fifty, and even if they would, I don’t want half for half. This family doesn’t settle,” Eivor insists, getting louder.
“No, we don’t,” Patricia agrees.
“So, you want Soren to help you kill them all?” Rosalie asks. “Why can’t I be a part of that again?”
“No one said you can’t, Rosalie,” Eivor replies with a sigh. “You’ll be plenty of help when it comes time.”
I take my last drink, but instead of getting more, I set the glass down. It smacks against the table harder than intended.
“Is there a problem, Nephew?” Eivor asks.
I shake my head. “None.”
There is.
I understand where he’s coming from. It’s more worth it to take them down. In fact, I’m not against it. It would make things a hell of a lot easier, we’d have control of one of the biggest domains in Italy. If not the biggest.
But…Carmine.
The idea of anyone laying a single fucking finger on him… My hands ball into fists, and Eivor starts talking again, but I only hear the final part of his sentence.
“…you’ll get access to more of their funds, and now that the Carvels have inserted themselves into the situation it’s even better. You can sabotage it.”
I meet his eyes. “Right. Then it isn’t us who has all the blood on our hands. Carvels will help.”
“Exactly,” Patricia smiles. “This is the perfect set up. What even got into the Carvels anyway?”
Rosalie starts to open her mouth, but I glance toward her with a heated gaze and she closes her mouth, giving me a questioning look for a second.
“A woman,” I reply simply.