8. Faustino
Faustino
Faustino’s chest swelled with a rare kind of pride as Reece nestled deeper into his arms, the sound of the boy’s soft voice echoing in his mind.
He’s in.
All in.
And that sweet ass doesn’t know what’s headed its way either…
Reece had agreed to let him look after him, to trust him completely, and that lit a fire in Faustino that he hadn’t felt in years.
This boy, this sweet, sassy Little with his big brown eyes and bigger dreams, was his to protect now. Faustino knew he couldn’t let him down. That just wasn’t him. He would never let another Justin situation play out. No matter what.
Faustino knew that he’d move mountains to make sure no one, especially that slimy sonofabitch Timo, dared block Reece’s path to the acting career he deserved.
Timo Taylor might think he held all the cards with his connections and his slimeball attitude, but Faustino was about to show him that the Fendi men handled business differently.
Faustino would keep a razor-sharp eye on that bastard, and make sure he didn’t so much as glance Reece’s way without regretting it.
“You don’t have to worry about a damn thing,” Faustino said, his voice low and steady as he brushed a stray strand of hair from Reece’s sweet face.
Reece’s skin was warm under his fingers, and Faustino lingered there a moment longer than he meant to. Suddenly there was an electric charge between them, one that hadn’t been there before – or certainly not so prominently at the surface.
“I’ll make sure no one gets in your way. That director? He’s on my list now,” Faustino snarled. “He steps out of line, he’s finished. I don’t care who he knows or what he thinks he can pull. I’ll bury him.”
Reece’s eyes sparkled, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over his pretty face.
“Thank you, Daddy,” Reece said, clutching his stuffie with pride. “I just want to act. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, ever since I was a kid tripping over my lines in the Christmas play. Well, I didn’t actually trip over them. I kinda nailed them!”
“I don’t doubt that for one second, young man,” Faustino chuckled.
“And you’ll be back on the stage or screen before long again.
Trust me. But in the meantime, you’re staying here at the share house.
I might be your Daddy while we sort this out, but this keeps things simple for you.
Truthfully, I don’t have a fixed address myself anyway.
I just bounce between hotels. That’s my style.
And it’s been that way for years. But you’ve got to keep me posted.
Anything suspicious… strange calls, weird vibes, some creep lurking around…
you report it to me right away. No hesitation. Got it?”
Faustino knew that he had to lay it on the line. There was no point in trying to hide anything from Reece – he was observant, nosey, and unafraid to stick his beak in to find out the truth.
Reece nodded eagerly.
“Got it. I’ll tell you everything, I swear,” Reece replied, conviction in his voice.
“Good boy,” Faustino said, smiling.
Faustino liked how quick Reece was to agree, how he looked at him like he could fix anything. That was his Little side coming to the fore in a big way, and Faustino was all there for it. It stirred something deep in him, a Daddy instinct he’d buried long ago.
“And to make sure you’re ready to blow those auditions out of the water, I’m setting you up with some one-on-one acting lessons,” Faustino continued, his mind suddenly popping and fizzing with plans for this sweet, charming boy.
“An elite coach, best in the city. Someone who’ll take that raw talent of yours and turn it into gold.
You’d be surprised, my contacts book isn’t just filled with killers, dealers, and mob bosses. ”
“Seriously? Faustino, that’s… that’s incredible!” Reece exclaimed, his voice dripping with emotion. “I can’t believe you’d do that for me!”
“Only the best for my boy,” Faustino said, pleased at his excitement.
Reece’s joy was infectious, lighting up the room like a burst of sunshine.
Faustino could see how well he’d do if he had the chance to showcase himself on the big screen.
Seeing him like this, so hopeful and full of life, did something to Faustino – it cracked open a part of his heart he’d locked away after Justin.
He pushed that memory down though. It wasn’t the time to be thinking of the past. Instead, Faustino simply focused on Reece’s beaming smile.
“You’ve got the spark, Reece,” Faustino laughed. “I’ve seen it. This coach will just help you shine at your brightest.”
Reece practically bounced into his lap, his juice sloshing a little as he threw his arms around his neck.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best Daddy ever!” Reece exclaimed. “Even if you do give out corner time!”
Faustino laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that felt good in his chest.
“Easy, boy. Don’t spill that juice all over me,” Faustino laughed. “And don’t knock corner time either. Or you’ll be experiencing a lot more of it sooner than you want…”
Faustino laughed once more and hugged Reece back, savoring the feel of his small frame against his. For a moment, the chaos of his life faded and it was just him and the boy who trusted him to keep his world right.
No family bullshit.
No death or bloodshed.
Just me and Reece…
Faustino was quickly brought back to earth as his phone buzzed on the desk, shattering the moment.
Faustino’s jaw tightened as he glanced at it, seeing Matteo’s name flash across the screen.
Another message. Another damn meeting, probably packed with more pain in the ass rules and lectures about how he needed to fall in line with whatever bullshit was going down.
Faustino didn’t bother opening the message. Not yet anyway. He’d deal with Matteo and Michael when he had to. Right now, Reece was his priority…
“Everything okay?” Reece asked, tilting his head, his brow furrowing with concern.
“Yeah, just family,” Faustino muttered, brushing it off. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty face about. You just focus on being your amazing self, okay?”
Reece giggled, sipping his juice through the straw.
“Okay, Daddy,” Reece said, smiling.
Faustino leaned back against the crate bed’s headboard, watching Reece with a rare sense of calm. For once, the storm of his life felt manageable. And it was all because he had Reece to ground him.
But his phone buzzed again.
And then again.
And once more…
It was a nagging reminder that Faustino’s world wasn’t all juice runs and playdates – and never would be. Faustino knew that he’d have to face Matteo and Michael soon, and it was going to be a more of the same drama. Faustino could feel it in his bones, and he didn’t like it one bit…
“Fuck,” Faustino said, dropping his speed and taking in the sights ahead of him.
The disused warehouse loomed ahead, its rusted metal walls and shattered windows casting jagged shadows in the fading afternoon light.
“All this money, and we have to meet here?” Faustino said, allowing himself a sly grin.
Faustino pulled up on his motorcycle, the engine’s growl rumbling. This was the spot Matteo had texted him. Short notice, no details, just a time and an address. Typical Fendi family cloak and dagger bullshit.
So far, so weird…
No sign of Michael’s sleek town car or Matteo’s SUV. Just silence and the faint hum of the city in the distance.
“Okay…” Faustino muttered, his eyes darting around, his senses tingling. Something wasn’t quite right.
Faustino checked his watch. Five minutes early.
Plenty of time for his brother and cousin to roll in with their sanctimonious crap about “leadership” and “the new way” of running the family.
In fact, this was all probably some kind of test to see whether he was willing to bend to their wishes.
Part of Faustino wanted to get back on his motorcycle and get the hell out of there.
Faustino snorted, leaning against his bike and doing his best impression at looking casual. He’d wait, but he wasn’t happy about it. The last meeting had ended with him smashing a glass and storming out, and this one didn’t feel like it’d be any less tense if this no-show act was anything to go by.
Try as he might, Faustino struggled to stay calm. He wasn’t some errand boy that Michael and Matteo could jerk around. Faustino was as much a boss as any of them.
Minutes ticked by.
Five.
Ten.
Fifteen...
“You have to be kidding me,” Faustino muttered, kicking at the dirt underfoot.
The warehouse stayed quiet, the only sound the wind whistling through the broken panes and the occasional clatter of loose metal somewhere inside.
Where the hell are they?
This isn’t just late…
This is a slap in the face.
“Assholes,” Faustino muttered, pacing a few steps, his boots kicking up more dust. He pulled out his phone, and hovered his thumb over Matteo’s name, and then Michael’s.
But before Faustino could type a single word, a sharp crack split the air. Gunshot .
Faustino’s instinct took over, and he dove behind his bike, the gravel around him kicking up and spraying everywhere as another shot rang out, pinging off the warehouse wall just above his head.
“What the fuck?” Faustino snarled, yanking his pistol from his belt. He peeked over the bike, catching a glimpse of a dark car screeching out from behind a stack of crates, tires spinning as it zigged and zagged onto the road.
Faustino fired off three quick rounds, aiming for the tires, but the car was too fast, and by the time he set himself for another flurry of shots, it was already shrinking into the distance.
Adrenaline flooded Faustino’s system as he crouched low, scanning for more threats. The warehouse lot stayed still. No movement, no sound except the echo of the shots fading away.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” Faustino snapped.
Faustino stood up from behind the cover of the motorcycle, his mind racing...
Someone had just taken a shot at him on Fendi turf, at a meeting spot his own damn family had picked.
Faustino balled his hands into fists, fury boiling over as he stalked a few paces away from his motorcycle and then back again.
Were Michael and Matteo behind this? Had they decided he was too much of a wild card, too unpredictable to keep in the fold? The thought of being plotted against by his own family hit Faustino like a sledgehammer.
How could they?
Power changed people, but this was something else if there was even a hint of truth to it. Faustino had seen it in the old regime they’d toppled together, watched loyalty twist into betrayal. Was the exact same thing happening to him?
Faustino jumped onto his motorcycle, the engine roaring to life as he powered it away from the warehouse.
The wind whipped past him, stinging his face, but it did nothing to cool the rage he felt. If his own brother and cousin were trying to take him out, this was war. He’d trusted them with his life, spilled blood for them, built this empire with them… and for what?
Faustino needed answers. He needed answers fast. And he’d rip them out of someone’s throat if he had to…
But as Faustino sped through the city another thought clawed at him… Reece.
If someone was gunning for him, he could be in the trouble too. He’d promised to protect him, to keep him safe from creeps like Timo, but this was a whole other level.
Darker, deadlier, and something that Reece hadn’t signed up for.
Faustino gritted his teeth, pushing the bike harder, the engine’s scream matching the fury building in his head.
First, he’d figure out who’d just tried to put a bullet in him.
Then he’d make them pay… family or not.
No one crossed Faustino Fendi and walked away clean…