Chapter 3
ALESSIO
One Month Later
THE NIGHT AFTER another monthly confession and I sat alone in what my brothers deemed my “tech cave” in the underground of Libertine, our private club in the center of Manhattan.
It was late, but in the eighteen floors above me, our members indulged in all our club had to offer.
They were some of the richest, most powerful men in the world, giving us access to anything and everything we could dream of, and my brothers regularly wined and dined and networked with them all.
I, on the other hand, preferred the solitary confines of my cave. It was filled to the brim with every tech gadget you could imagine, all the latest and greatest that were practically toys for me.
My fingers flew over the keyboard as code scrolled across the many screens lining the wall. This was where I was happiest. It was the world I understood, where I felt the most in control.
At least, I had up until a few months ago, when I’d almost been bested by a hacker. One with murderous revenge on the brain, one who’d almost killed Theo. I never would’ve forgiven myself if one of my brothers died on my watch because I couldn’t crack a code.
But it had almost happened. And I’d beaten myself up about it for months until King, our indomitable leader, had finally given me an ultimatum a few weeks ago—get my shit together or I’d be gaining a partner.
That had been the rude awakening I needed, because I’d be damned if I shared my space and had some other asshole watching over my shoulder. Fuck no.
That meant giving our systems an overhaul, though, building an impenetrable system brick by brick so nothing slipped by me ever again.
Never again, I told myself as I hit the last bit of code and then let the diagnostic run to check for holes. I waited, practically holding my breath, and it only took seconds for the soft beep of approval to come through.
The scan was clean. Perfect.
Fucking finally. I blew out a breath and leaned back in my chair, cracking my neck from side to side as all the tension I’d been holding for the last few hours drained out of me. With every successful night I felt my confidence slowly coming back, something I’d been desperately missing.
I couldn’t be anything less than perfect, not anymore.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I debated whether to head upstairs to the bar or open the bottle of whiskey Lachlan had dropped by, hoping for a favor. Not the first or even tenth time he’d done that, but if he wanted to stock me up with expensive liquor, I wouldn’t complain.
A tiny light winked in the far corner of all the monitors, so discreet I wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t hyperaware of what it was.
Before I could stop myself, I reached for the mouse and brought the screen to life.
I felt a pang of guilt every time I saw Rafael walking toward his rectory at the end of the day, but I told myself I’d put up the camera to make sure he was safe. That he wasn’t getting mugged outside the small apartment he kept at St. Andrews.
It was mostly a lie, of course, one that stabbed me in the chest every time I watched him. Something that was happening more and more lately, which I blamed on the close proximity during every non-confession I made.
It had been less than twenty-four hours since I’d been in that booth with him again, the silence between us thick and heavy, his goddamn cologne in my nose.
I could still smell it now like he was here as I watched him unlock his door.
He wore his usual black attire, dress pants and a button-up shirt with the white collar that gave away his profession.
From the back you’d never guess he was a priest, though, not with the way his lean, athletic body filled out those pants.
He was so tall, six-four, and too fucking attractive to be a priest.
Attractive wasn’t the right term for him. Stunningly beautiful was.
His short, perfectly parted blond hair gleamed under the street light as he stepped inside the rectory, and I only caught a glimpse of his face as he turned to shut the door.
That was it. That was all I got.
It was still too much.
I shut off the monitor and closed my eyes, but that only had memories of last night assaulting me instead. His voice, low and devastating as he’d whispered my name.
There had been none of the usual blessing I’d heard him give others when they left the booth, telling them to go in peace. If he’d dared say that to me, I might’ve broken my silence to tell him off.
“Peace,” I muttered, and scoffed under my breath. I hadn’t known peace since I’d known Rafael, and that had been most of my fucking life. The hold he had on me should’ve snapped the second he decided I didn’t have a place in his future. That should’ve been enough for me to walk away.
But here I was, alone at dinnertime, watching Rafael’s door like a goddamn creeper.
“Fuck this.” I reached out to kill the feed and the screen went mercifully black. It didn’t loosen the tension in my shoulders, though, and when the itch to turn it back on remained, I stood up so fast my chair flew back.
No more watching—tonight. I couldn’t promise I’d have the strength tomorrow to stop, but tonight I could get the fuck out of here.
I shut everything down and headed out of my own personal sanctuary, up the long corridor that led to the entry of Libertine, only I wasn’t planning on leaving.
Temptation would still be there at my place, so I stepped into the elevator instead and punched the number five before I could tell myself this was a bad idea.
And it was. A terrible idea. But I needed to forget, and there was one place in this building that was designed for just that.
My heart beat fast as the elevator dropped me off on the fifth floor, and I stared at the two doors before me.
One black, one red, the former containing an even more unholy variety of pleasures than the other, ones that I had little desire in participating in.
Bondage and multiple partners weren’t where I got my thrills.
No, you choose to torture yourself alone with the thought of a man you can’t have.
I gritted my teeth and opened the red door, instantly assaulted with the heavy beat from the music I could feel pulsating beneath my feet.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see the many delicious sins taking place around the club—men coupled up against walls, couches, anywhere they could leverage to get each other off.
This was Lucien’s domain, and my brother had designed this place to entice and provoke. To undo restraint and welcome fantasies, however depraved they may be.
Which was exactly what happened behind the black door, but in here, it was more about the casual hookup.
I walked through the room, my hands shoved into my pockets, hoping I would feel a pull or a spark to someone. Anyone.
I needed this, and tonight I was going to allow myself to indulge the way a normal thirty-two-year-old would.
There was no denying it was hot as hell to watch two men, completely naked and fucking with abandon, over one of the tables, their sweat-slicked skin gleaming under the strobe lights and making my dick ache.
But it wasn’t because I wanted to join them.
I moved on, catching the eye of a dancer on one of the stages wearing the tiniest of G-strings. He held my gaze and his lips curved in invitation.
This was it. My chance. I’d take him up on his offer, spend a few mind-blowing minutes fucking or getting fucked, and that was it. It was all I needed to get rid of the invasive thoughts of ripping a certain someone’s collar off and wrapping my lips around his cock.
The dancer curled his finger at me, beckoning me closer, and I willed myself to move toward him. He was attractive, shorter and darker-haired than my usual type, but his body was fit, his ass plump and perfect, and…
I wanted this. Really, I did.
But with every step I took, my dick refused to get onboard, and irritation clawed at my chest.
Fuck. I ground my molars and focused on the tiny slip of fabric holding his dick, though, judging by the way he grew harder, it wouldn’t be doing its job for long.
I want this, I told myself, moving in closer. It’s just sex.
I imagined pushing this guy up against the wall, only my mind conjured a private booth, wooden lattice, and a man hidden in shadows instead.
My feet stopped moving, my fists clenched, and I cursed.
“Unbelievable,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair and gripping it so hard it hurt. I shook my head once at the dancer, whose sensual smile fell, before turning on my heel to head back to the elevator.
Anger buzzed through my veins, and I stabbed at the button. “Fuck me to hell.”
Could this elevator be any slower?
But when it finally stopped and the door slid open to reveal Benoit—the gossip king of our group—I cursed myself for not taking the damn stairs.
“Alessio?” His eyes sparkled with curiosity as they widened in surprise.
I was almost positive I was the last person he’d expected to see standing here when the door opened, and quite frankly, he wasn’t wrong. I never ventured up here; I couldn’t believe I’d thought it would help tonight.
Nothing did.
“Going down?” he asked, a sly smile crossing his face. “Or have you already had that pleasure tonight?”
Knowing I wasn’t about to get out of this without some kind of bullshit explanation that Benoit would see through, I merely grunted and stormed inside.
“Yikes. Okay…” Benoit moved out of my way to stand to one side. “So, I’m going to take that as a no.”
Again, I remained silent as I punched the lobby button.
“And judging by your tightly wound disposition, I’m thinking that you could do with a stiff—”
I glared at him across the space, and Benoit merely held his hands up.
“I was just going to say drink, mon cher. That’s all. A stiff drink.”