22. SIMON #2
It takes a moment for the penny to drop. Pedro. Silly Simon. He’s jealous.
“That was Pedro and we weren’t all over each other. I’ve known him since I was very young and it's been a long time since we have seen each other. He’s my friend, Simon. A friend who is in a committed relationship.”
His checks turn red as my words land. He’s embarrassed and he shouldn't be. I like jealous Simon.
“Then what about him?” he says, pointing to Diogo who is starting to wake up on the ground.
“He’s the guard my father assigned to me.”
Diogo stands up, a little wobbly on his feet, and he glares at Simon who only glares back.
“You’re fucking crazy. You know that? I should inform Gabriel of what went on here,” he threatens and I decide to step in as that's the last thing we need.
“I’m sorry Diogo, it was a misunderstanding and he had a meltdown. There's no need to make it worse by telling my father. Anyway, I don’t think he’d care too much about two guards fighting. It happens.”
“You stay out of my fucking way,” Diogo says to Simon, pointing in his face before leaving the room.
“How was I supposed to know?” he says quietly, and it's cute.
“Maybe you ask first before attacking. I don’t want anyone apart from you. I think I’ve made that clear.”
“Will Gabriel be made aware that I’ve destroyed your room?”
“No. When you have this much money, you don’t notice what breaks. It can all be replaced. Don’t worry.”
The room stays locked in time as we just allow ourselves to stand with one another. This outburst means something and he’s shown his hand to me. Knowing Simon, he will now rebel from his true feelings.
“I have to ask though, Simon. Why were you jealous?”
“You were laughing.”
Strange response, but okay.
“Laughing?”
“I’ve never seen you like that before.”
“That’s because you always fight me. Besides, Pedro is a lifelong friend, it's how we’ve always been.”
He snorts at that, more jealousy.
“If you’d stop being so stubborn, we could have lighter times together, you know. It doesn't always have to be a fight.
“I know. But I can’t help it.”
Something twinges in my chest that I’ve never experienced before while looking at him.
I don’t like to see him questioning himself like this and doubting himself.
So I walk over and grab his face gently and press a soft kiss to those perfect lips.
This is the most tender I have been with anyone.
It’s odd but feels right. Maybe we both need to allow a little crack in our defenses and let some of that softness through.
Resting my forehead on his, his hands grab at the material of my shirt on my back, not wanting to let go.
“I’ve got to go down and meet my father at dinner. We can talk later if you like.”
“Okay. I’ll go find Lucas and Mark.”
We pull away from each other, and as he leaves, he looks over his shoulder at me.
“Good luck with your father, Carlos. Don’t let him win.”
“I got this, Si. Don’t worry.”
A very almost microscopic smile appears on his face, making my heart swell.
He leaves and I quickly have to get changed and focus on meeting my demon father and be ready for anything he throws at me.
I walk down to the dining area, walking along the same black marble floors as I did years ago.
Nothing has changed here. The house staff are even the same, silent and watchful, like furniture that breathes.
Listening to only the sound of my footsteps, I walk into the large dining room, which is more like the size of a ballroom.
After being away for so long it somehow feels bigger, more empty.
“Carlos,” my father says from the head of the long table that could seat at least twelve people. His voice is low and controlled, like a blade being unsheathed, waiting to make that final attack, the killer cut.
“Father,” I say, making sure I control my outward body language.
I offer no smile, no handshake and take a seat to his right as I have since childhood.
The table is decadently set: wine as dark as dried blood fills the goblet crystal glasses, lamb carved to perfection on my plate, waiting for me to eat, silver cutlery glinting beneath the lights.
He always staged his power. This is a stage that's been set for me, a test. I’ve seen it many times before when men who have challenged my father have sat at this very table.
“I wasn’t sure you would return home. I’m happy that you did.”
“I didn’t return for you. I did it for me. To rid me of that other son of yours.”
“You’ve never kept in touch, son.”
I lift the wine glass but don’t drink. “If I wanted to keep in touch, I wouldn’t have left the family.”
The old man chuckles, shaking his head like I’m still a boy wet behind the ears.
“You’ve always been dramatic. But your little rebellion has run its course. You’ve had your freedom. It’s time to come home.”
“I am home.”
“You know what I mean.”
I look up to meet his gaze. Those eyes, coal-black and flat like polished stone. I know them too well as they are mirrors of my own, except in color.
“I hear you are still living in the building you bought, the penthouse," he says, slicing through the meat like it’s silk.
“You’re sleeping with someone you haven’t introduced to me. Why is that, I wonder?”
How the fuck does he know that? Simon. Shit.
My jaw twitches but I manage to keep my voice calm.
“You’re not entitled to know anyone I take to my bed.”
“A man, isn’t it?” he said with disgust, lacing his tone. My father is a first class homophobe. He made that very clear when I came out to him. But I think he was quietly hoping that I only said it to cause trouble. Now he knows the truth.
“Isn’t it that boy you introduced to me today as your “guard”? Simon, isn’t it?”
I don’t respond. I don’t blink. All I feel is fear that he knows and I brought Simon here willingly. Putting him in harm's way. Not to mention Simon is going to freak the fuck out when he finds out.
He leans in toward me. The mask has slipped, just a crack, enough for me to see the wrath boiling underneath the surface.
“You think you can live outside this family? You think I don’t have contacts? Pull strings? That I won’t make his life a living hell if I want to?” he snarls.
I push my plate away, appetite gone, anger bubbling in my chest. I fight the temptation to take the knife on the table and stab it through his fucking neck and let him bleed out like a pig.
“Is that a threat?” I challenge. Forcing eye contact. Controlling my temper. He sits back in his chair and his demeanor totally shifts to a relaxed Gabriel. Cool and calm.
“No, son.” The words are smooth as oil, but the venom is in the tone. “It’s a reminder. You are the heir to this family. You don’t get to run. You owe me.”
I stand up from the table, the chair scrapes across the floor like a scream as my hands tremble. Not from fear, from frustration and lack of control. Being unprepared gets you killed.
“You don’t own me anymore, Father. We had a deal and I don’t owe you a damn thing.”
Before I leave, I place my hands on the white table cloth and lean over into his face.
“You want me back so bad? Why? Is it because of love? Or is it because the others won’t follow you? Or because there is no other woman desperate enough to sleep with you to provide an alternative heir, because let's face it, Enrico is an embarrassment to our bloodline.”
He says nothing. Just stares in silence.
I finally pull away, and just as I start to walk away, I leave him with a warning of my own.
“If you ever touch him—if I so much as hear his name leave your mouth again—I won’t come back to sit at this table,” I place my hand on the door handle and with ice in my voice, make my promise. “I’ll come back to burn it down.”
Slamming the door behind me, I allow myself a moment to inhale the oppressive air around me. This house is full of a toxicity that you can bite. My gut feeling was right. He lied to me. For the first time, I have witnessed my father go back on his word.
Two can play dirty and I’ll bring down the fucker myself if he gets near Simon.
Speaking of Simon, I need to talk to him. I can’t be seen with him in the house as my father is sure to have spies everywhere, like he does back in the US. Lucas. He can help.
I walk outside and start to head toward the gardens, moving as far away from the property as I can to avoid cameras and prying eyes. As I walk, I text Lucas.
Me: Can you bring Simon to me at the fountain? It's urgent. Make sure you’re not followed.
L: On our way.
I arrive at the large cherub fountain and take the opportunity to allow the sounds of tranquility to ease my nerves.
To calm the storm. My mother loved this fountain.
If she wasn’t in the house, you would find her here with a book, taking herself off to a fictional land that made her happy. Probably made her feel more safe.
Footsteps on the gravel grab my attention, just as Lucas and Simon appear from behind the hedging that hides the fountain. Giving it the appearance of a little sanctuary.
“Are you okay, Carlos?” Lucas asks, and I subtly shake my head.
“Keep a look out, would you, while I talk to Simon?”
He nods and returns to where he came from.
“Carlos what the hell is going on. Has something bad happened?” Simon asks. Panic and confusion marring that beautiful face.
So I start talking, preparing myself for a punch I deserve.
Carlos still hasn’t answered my question. When Lucas dragged me here I feared the worst, that something bad had happened between Carlos and Gabriel that would put us all in danger.
The light of the silver moon drapes over the garden and shadows behind where Carlos stands. The fountain gurgles softly, like it’s spilling secrets.
“Carlos, are you gonna answer me?”
With his arms crossed and his head bowed, every second that passes makes the weight in my chest press harder. Carlos then straightens, dressed in an impeccable black suit, the jacket unbuttoned with his signature open black shirt underneath.
“Carlos, you better fucking talk before I make you,” I warn, getting more pissed off with each second that passes.
“My father knows,” he says finally.
“Knows what?”
“About us. About you,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets, waiting for my reaction. My body has locked into position, frozen in time. For a moment I can’t react as this would mean I’m in a nightmare. A nightmare that could risk my life.
“You told him?” I ask.
“No. He’s had people watching me back home. He knew about your visits to my apartment. That you’ve stayed with me.”
Oh my god. I turn away, unable to look at him. I run my hands through my hair, trying to collect my thoughts. “Fuck,” I hiss under my breath.
“This is all part of his big plan. He wants me back in the family. To take over from him and run the business. He thinks if he holds you over me like a threat, then I’ll return. But it won’t happen. I’m not coming back. I refuse to play his games.”
I let out a hollow laugh. “From what I’ve heard, your father doesn’t play, Carlos. He controls and always wins.”
“I didn’t expect this to happen. If I knew he would involve you in this, I wouldn’t have brought you here.”
“But you did bring me here. You pulled me into your world the second you touched me and used your fucking need for dominance to manipulate a reason for me to be forced here.”
“That’s not fair. I needed extra hands with Enrico. It was a genuine request for help, Simon.”
“No, it's not fair, because I’m in the middle of your family bullshit.”
The anger between us grows fast, thick like smoke as it surrounds us in the mess that's taken over our life.
“We will leave as soon as we can. I promise I’ll protect you, Simon. He won’t lay a finger on you or even speak to you while we’re here.”
“You think I need protection like a little wallflower? I’ve taken on men as tough as your father, Carlos. Don’t let your arrogance think I need saving by a hero, just because I made the mistake of sleeping with you.”
Carlos’ jaw clenches. His nostrils flare, the tidal wave of anger rising higher the longer we stand here.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t want me. Don’t fucking lie to my face again, Simon. I know you. That little stunt you pulled earlier proves my point.”
I mask indifference. This thing between us could never be anything more. Even if I wanted it to, which if I searched my true feelings, is what I would want in a dreamworld. But I’m too fucked up for this. The pressure alone of people knowing is enough to tip me over the edge.
“It was an itch, Carlos. That's all. Some dark need in me that I had to get out of my system.”
It is a lie. But after the way I acted earlier, I had time to think about my actions. It's toxic, what we have. It's nuclear. Anyone in the blast zone will be incinerated around us, and I can’t do it.
Carlos rushes towards me and grabs my throat. I use both hands to try and remove them, but it's like he has fixed them with a lock. Refusing to let me go.
“Your lies offend me, little lion. Don't insult my intelligence. We belong together and nothing, not even your denial is going to change that.”
“That’s your problem if you can’t accept it,” I say, struggling to get oxygen down my throat.
“He doesn’t get to take you away from me. Nobody does. I’ll tear down his entire empire before I let him use you.”
I manage with a forceful push, to get Carlos to remove his hands from my neck.
“You don’t get it, do you? There is no us. There never was. It was just a fucked up drug supplier with blood on his hands, and a fucked up guard with no brain who couldn’t resist.”
More lies. I’m becoming a pro at this.
“I’d kill everyone around us for you,” Carlos says, but not in a lovey way.
More in a way that a devil warns the gods he is taking over the world.
His words shock me as I’m not prepared for the truth when it comes to us.
I prefer to hate him, and for him to goad me and it remain that way.
We can’t have more. We can’t. I can’t lose anyone else again in my life because I felt something more for them.
“Then you’re a fool, Carlos.”
I regret the words as they leave my mouth. But it’s for the best. A second passes, then two before Carlos just walks away.
Nothing more to be said.
A pain in my chest where my heart cracks nearly brings me to my knees.
But this is for the best.
He doesn’t realize that I’m doing this for him too.