7. Chapter 7 - Cole
M atteo isn’t speaking to me. Seems like we can’t get through just anything after all. Deep down, I knew that, but it had to be done. I know he’s hurt, and with good reason, but I’m really hoping he’ll come around. Thankfully, I’ve been able to avoid him as much as possible. The tension between us was threatening to suffocate me, and I’ve been able to dodge him for the past two days just fine. If it weren’t for Emiliano calling this meeting, I’d be back in my room, holed up again. Instead, I’m with Matteo, entering Giovanni’s.
One thing about the Colombo brothers is that they have an office in every one of their businesses, legitimate or not. The Pink Pony Club has Emiliano’s office, where he spends a lot of his time, but it also hosts a basement that serves as a torture room. We do a lot of work at our warehouses, but sometimes Em likes to get creative. When it’s not a spur-of-the-moment thing, he takes them there. If you’re lucky enough to know about the club’s dungeon, then that means you’re either close to the Colombo brothers or you’re about to die. There’s no in-between.
Giovanni’s, on the other hand, has private rooms reserved for people they’re doing business with. They play poker and chat, drink the top shelf shit, and make deals. Which is where we’re headed right now. To one of those rooms. If there’s one thing I know about this meeting, it is that all the brothers will be there. I have to make sure to keep my eyes to myself as much as possible. I don’t need anyone suspecting I have a thing for Emiliano. Not when they wouldn’t hesitate to tell Matteo. I’m trying to save my friendship with him, not sabotage it even more. Though I know that if it came down to it, I’d choose Emiliano over Matteo each and every day.
What the fuck does that say about me?
I’m a traitor, even I can acknowledge that. I’m trading someone who has been there for me through thick and thin for a man who will barely even look at me. Who would never see something permanent with me. I’m just a game to him, possibly a good time, but that’s about it. And it guts me.
The first time I realized that I was in love with Emiliano was when I was eighteen. After I heard him fucking someone at the penthouse, I began to follow him to Luna’s Den—the brothel—weekly. I entered the room. Emiliano didn’t bother locking the door, giving anyone access to watch. He didn’t even realize it was me. He didn’t look.
I still question whether he has a kink I’m missing or if it was just a coincidence. The problem was that when I saw the blonde bitch on her hands and knees for him; I was a changed man. My stomach flipped, my heart squeezed in my chest, and my eyes stung with tears. Not only was I jealous, but I had this deep feeling of betrayal that I couldn’t work out. He didn’t owe me anything—I knew that. Yet my heart wasn’t getting the memo. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized I was obsessed. Crazed. I wanted to possess him.
To this day, I can admit it wasn’t my finest moment, but I stood there and stared as Emiliano pounded into her pussy. I’m one hundred percent gay, so I couldn’t appreciate her body, but his was absolute perfection. I still wish I could’ve seen his cock. Watching it go in and out of her wasn’t enough, and it left an ache in my chest to think about him with someone else. An ache I still fucking feel.
I still feel too much for him. An uncontrollable longing I can’t kick. I’m mad with love and pent-up lust for him. I’m fucking hungry .
All I feel is famine.
“Are you going to get out of my car, Cole?” Matteo mutters, exasperation clear in his voice. “They’re waiting for us.”
“My bad,” I mumble, opening the car door and not waiting for him.
My strides are hurried as I close the distance between me and the restaurant doors. The ache in my chest is almost unbearable as I hear Matty’s footsteps close behind me, and I take a deep breath to keep myself in check. I knew this was going to be hard; I just didn’t think it would be this damn hard. I didn’t think he’d stop speaking to me. I was a goddamn fool.
Opening the door, I’m greeted by the warm air in the restaurant. The hostess is impeccably dressed, with black dress pants and a white long-sleeve button-up. I look over at her name tag and smile.
“Hello, Giulia,” I say softly, looking right into her blue eyes. “Di Milano.”
Di Milano is the code word to go to the back, and as soon as she realizes what’s happening, her eyes widen. She schools her features quickly, though. A-plus for effort. Giulia nods and lets us through, not bothering to guide us. You either know where you’re going, or you shouldn’t be here in the first place.
I make my way to the back, going through a hallway next to the kitchen and opening the first door on the left. I don’t bother knocking because I know they’re expecting us. We’re?—
“You’re late,” Emiliano growls as soon as we go inside. I close the door and lock it, trying to keep a semblance of privacy. We don’t need any interruptions right now. “Matteo.” He nods, then completely ignores my presence.
My nostrils flare with anger, and I huff. The air is suddenly too thick to breathe, and when I look around, there are six pairs of eyes on me, including Matty’s. Everyone’s but Emiliano’s. Great—now everyone knows something is going on. Just how long will I be able to hide this thing from my best friend? Surely he’s going to figure it out all on his own if I don’t tell him. There’s not one subtle bone in my body.
Emiliano’s back is turned to me, and I use that opportunity to sit on the worn black leather couch. I look around, taking in the poker tables and couches lining the walls. When I face forward once more, everyone’s eyes are still on me.
“Is there something on my fucking face?” I snap, and Alessandro begins to laugh. “What the hell is so funny?”
“Nothing—” Lorenzo snickers. “It’s all good.”
It feels like there’s an inside joke going around, and I’m on the outs of it. Probably because it’s about me. My eyes narrow on each one of them, and they all smile innocently at me. Oh, yeah, it’s definitely about me.
“Stop it,” Emiliano growls, looking at his brothers one by one. I watch as they straighten and lose their smirks. It’s somewhat satisfying. If only he’d fucking look at me now. “We’re here to talk about the Sinaloa Cartel.”
I nod, and he finally looks at me. “Armando didn’t deny working with the Bratva,” I say, and he nods slowly too. “Not that he could—the Pakhan was there.”
Emiliano frowns at that. “He didn’t get Andrey to do it?”
“Maybe he’s scared I’ll finish the job,” I tell him with a smirk.
“Will you?” Giovanni asks. “Finish the job?”
I look over at Matteo, and we make eye contact. His eyes slowly widen, and he shakes his head. “No,” he says. “He won’t. He’s not my knight in shining armor.”
I hear the unsaid words though.
“Not anymore?” Lorenzo asks, but I’m tired of playing games with all of them.
I sigh. “Who’s gonna kill Armando?” I focus on Emiliano’s face, willing him to make eye contact with me, but he won’t. And it pisses me off. I had him at my mercy barely a few days ago, and now he wants to act as if I don’t even exist. “ Emiliano .”
At the sound of his name coming from my lips, he does look at me. His eyes narrow. “You do it, Cole.”
I smile triumphantly. “Where do you want me to ship his body parts?”
Emiliano rolls his eyes. “This needs to be a clean kill.” The fuck it does. “You’ll shoot him at the docks and leave his body there. It’ll send the message we need.”
“Fuck that.” I throw my hands up in the air. “He needs to be tortured at least a little. We can’t be seen as weak.”
“Cole,” Em growls. “You’ll do as I say.”
“No.” I raise my chin defiantly.
“Out,” Emiliano snaps, and I get up from the couch to do just that. Except that just as my hand wraps around the doorknob, I’m yanked back. “Everyone but Cole.”
My back hits the front of Emiliano, and the breath whooshes out of my lungs. I clear my throat.
Matteo narrows his eyes at his dad, practically growling as he looks between us. “Why does he need to stay?” he asks, and Emiliano stiffens.
“Because I said so,” Emiliano says through gritted teeth. “Now go, Matteo. I’m not going to repeat myself.”
Matty looks into my eyes with a deep frown, but I nod. He turns away and walks out of the room right along with everyone else. The moment the door clicks shut behind them, I tense. Emiliano strides toward the door quickly and locks it. The sound is final, like a period at the end of a sentence.
At least we’re alone now.
“If you wanted to spend time with me, all you had to do was ask,” I taunt.
“You’re such a fucking brat,” Emiliano spits, invading my space and tangling one hand in my hair. I wince when he pulls at the strands and tilts my head up. The eye contact is heady. “Why can’t you just keep your mouth shut?”
“What fun is that?”
“You’re a pain in my ass,” he scoffs, but doesn’t let me go. “Are you trying to piss me off?”
“No.” I try to shake my head, but it’s painful. His fingers grip me tightly. “I just think you’re wrong.”
“About?” Emiliano asks, raising one eyebrow at me.
“Armando,” I say through gritted teeth when he yanks my head back even more, the angle painful on the back of my neck. His spare hand comes to my hip, and he grips it tightly, pulling me closer. My cock hardens—very inopportune timing, if I do say so myself. “He needs to die a painful death. Teach everyone a lesson. No one fucks with the Colombo’s.”
There’s a moment of silence on Emiliano’s end, and when he licks his lips, wetting his bottom one, my cock throbs. My eyes focus on his mouth, and a smile tilts his lips. We’re in some kind of stand-off. I won’t budge, and he won’t either. But he should know I always get what I want.
“You don’t come in here and give the orders, Cole,” Em says, his eyes focused on my lips. A shiver runs down my spine, and I shudder in his arms. “You’re not in control.”
I grin, which makes him frown. “You want to see how much better I am at taking control?” He shakes his head. “No?”
“ No .”
“What if I want to show you, anyway?” I ask him, and he smirks.
Instead of replying, Emiliano lets go of me. I stumble back a step, righting myself quickly. He unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his suit pants, dragging them down under his ass until just his cock and balls are visible. My mouth waters at the sight, and if I’m not careful, there will be drool dripping down my chin soon.
His cock is thick and long, uncut. His tan skin makes the wide blue vein running along the top of his shaft stand out, and I want to run my tongue over it. The head of his cock is wide and a deep shade of red. I want to put him out of his misery already. I want to give him everything he’s ever wanted. I want to show him I’m the best fuck he’ll ever have. And if the stars align for us, I’ll give him my heart on a silver platter.
“The only one in control here is me.” He grins, taking his length in his hand and lazily stroking it.
My breath stalls in my lungs at the sight, and I long to reach out and touch him. I want to be bratty again and defy him, but the thought of his cock down my throat has those ideas dying a quick death. I want to be the reason he breaks apart tonight.
And I always get what I want.