2. CARLOS
CARLOS
“ W here next, boss?” Lucas, my right hand man asks me as we get into my car and leave Desire.
“The docks. I need to pick up some paperwork,” I say, my mind drifting to Simon. Little lion. He’s so feisty and bitchy.
“Got it,” Lucas says from the driver's seat as we start to drive through the town towards the docks.
This was always the dream for me. Running my own shipment business.
Being able to leave Brazil and the watchful eye of my father.
I had been trained since childhood to evolve into the man that would eventually head the family, take over the arms trade that he and my family before him ran.
I don’t do well with being controlled, having every element of my life planned for me.
I wanted to pave my own way, earn my own millions.
Gain the respect from my men naturally, rather than it being earned because of the Silva name.
My father’s world is brutal and dangerous, and parts of it I enjoyed.
Being the eldest son is the part I could never deal with.
Tired of the mindgames, the threats and having to be constantly making sure my younger brother, Enrico, was kept in line.
Which was an impossible task. The only positive thing about my brother, is that his major fuck ups back home made it possible for me to strike a deal with my father.
If I could leave, give up my right to the family business, I would take Enrico with me and keep him away.
Enrico always has a hand in some dirty dealing, whether it be stealing or trying to assert himself violently.
He nearly caused a gang war that would’ve been destructive to the business.
My father was done. Especially when I told him I would come out as gay and make his life as difficult as possible.
So he agreed to the terms. I think he thought I would’ve changed my mind and returned home by now.
But it’s been three years and I’m thriving here. Finally making my mark.
The Kozlovs are a perfect client. It opened many doors for me, to the point I need to expand and fast. Luckily I have Lucas by my side who came over from Brazil with me.
We grew up together and he knows me better than anyone.
I trust him with my life, and it's a bonus that my sexuality doesn’t bother him.
We’re both twenty-nine years old, and brothers except in blood.
I’m proud of what I’ve achieved and will do anything to protect my business.
There is an extra perk to this contract with the Kozlovs, and that comes in the form of Simon.
I knew who he was at the meeting with Dima, and I was a little surprised to see him there as Jules is normally the one who assists in meetings with the brothers.
But I was pleasantly surprised. He’s fucking gorgeous.
Those brown eyes make me weak, making me want to steal him.
When confronted, he reminds me of a caged animal.
A baby lion, hissing and scratching, trying to break free.
It gets me excited. I’m interested to see how far he can be pushed, especially with all that bravado of him trying to convince me he’s straight.
All lies. But why? I’m intrigued to find out as the Kozlovs are the most open group of men I’ve ever met. My family could learn a lot from them.
I, however, do not hide that I’m gay. I love men.
I love their strong bodies, their masculine scent, hard cocks and firm asses.
I love rough hands even more, the push and pull of strength, the fight for dominance.
So fucking hot, that I’m getting aroused just thinking about it.
That's why Simon stood out to me as he has everything I like. But, what is new to me is that he is the first to grab my attention in an obsessive way and I’ve only met him twice, and spoken to him once.
He is triggering the possessive alpha within me.
He’s not receptive at the moment but I’m patient, I know I can break him down into little pieces and put him back together. It’ll be fun.
I need to start thinking of something else, because I’m so turned on right now, I’m considering tracking him down and just taking what I want.
Deep breaths, Carlos. Deep breaths.
We arrive at the docks and it's chaotic tonight with a new shipment arriving. Everyone is busy in their roles and it sends a huge wave of satisfaction through me, seeing everything run smoothly. Watching what I’ve created.
I walk over to my dark blue storage container which acts as my office, and upon entering, my phone rings.
It's my brother. There is nothing like talking to Enrico to bring the mood down.
“Yes,” I answer, balancing the phone in the crook of my neck while I grab the papers from my desk that I need to take home to look over.
“You’re supposed to answer the phone with a ‘hello’,” he mumbles down the phone. The boy never stops complaining.
“Hello Enrico, how may I help?”
“You’re a fucking dick. Why have I been picked up? It's late.”
“Yes it is, but we have a shipment coming in tonight and one leaving port. I need you to assist.”
“What? I hate going on the fucking water. I get sick. Why do I have to go?”
“Because you aren’t sitting around living off my money. You will work. Or I could send you home to your father wrapped in a bow. I’m sure he will think of ways to put you to work.”
“Yeah, yeah. I never asked for this.”
“Stop complaining and just do as you’re told. I’ll see you in a few days when you return.”
I get no response as the manchild ends the call.
You would think he was a teenager, not a twenty-four year old man.
I wouldn’t say he was spoiled, but he was neglected enough that he never was expected to do anything, and just did his own thing.
All responsibility always weighed on me.
Sometimes I question if we are even related with how different we are.
But maybe it all just comes down to the fact we were never really that close.
Our mother died when I was five and Enrico was only a few months old so he doesn’t remember her.
He has only ever seen the revolving door of women that entertain my father.
But I do remember some things about her.
She had a soft voice that always soothed me, and even calmed my father when he went into one of his rages.
Whenever I smell vanilla, it opens memories that make me think of her, so she must’ve worn a perfume that buried into my soul of recognition for her.
Aside from that, I only have pictures to keep her beautiful face alive.
Her long thick black hair, tanned skin and large brown eyes.
Such a kind face. Hard to believe I had anyone kind in my life.
If she had not died, would I have become who I am now?
Would I have possessed softer edges, like compassion and seeing the beauty of the world?
The question is, does your childhood affect your brain chemistry when you reach adulthood? If I had the softness to even out the evil in my life, would I be a good person? Or was I always meant to be this…just like my father.
But the even bigger question is, if I could choose to be more normal like my mother, would I do it?
I don’t need to think long about the answer. Because no, I wouldn’t change it. I don’t believe any kindness or light heart could ever rid my family of its dark souls. It's in the Silvas' blood. It’s what makes us breathe. Like an oppressive aura around us, it just makes us stronger. More powerful.
And that's where I want to be.