CHAPTER 19 MAURO
For what must have been the third time, I rewrite the letter I'm drafting to Colin Miller. At this point, I have no idea how to reach him because, just like Mark's two previous assistants, he refuses to press charges.
We've already exchanged several emails, but they've gotten us nowhere, and I let out a frustrated sigh as my fingers hover motionless over the keyboard.
"…I'm prepared to offer you financial support, as well as protection if it becomes necessary. But I'm begging you, please reconsider and file charges…"
I pull my hands away from the keyboard and curse quietly under my breath, realizing something.
Damn it, these are the exact same arguments I sent to the five previous assistants who quit working for Mark Ferguson after he sexually assaulted them, and they got me nowhere.
But Colin quit his job only two months ago. Everything is still fresh, and I'm desperately trying to convince him to be the one person willing to take this to court.
His reasons for refusing, however, are exactly the same as the others'. Mark threatened to kill him if Colin tried to do anything, telling him he could make it happen quietly, without anyone ever suspecting a thing, because he had connections everywhere, including the police and… the mafia.
The worst part is that he's not lying.
Over the past several months, Mark has worked hard to get into Anzo's good graces. Thanks to his family's influence, he helped secure several lucrative city contracts for us involving government construction projects.
So the Ferros would almost certainly be willing to back Mark if a lawsuit ever made it to court. And we have the best lawyer there is, our own second cousin, Alessi Ferro.
We would deal with it quietly, without attracting suspicion. And permanently. This is how my family operates, and I can't do shit about it.
Of course, I can't tell Colin that I'm part of the mafia too, because that would directly undermine the Ferros' interests, and there'd be no talking my way out of that.
So instead, I keep trying to pressure him in whatever ways I can, even though I already have a feeling none of it is going to work.
They're all afraid of Mark, and they probably should be. He's simply too powerful, at least for now. The full extent of his misconduct hasn't reached critical mass yet.
Footsteps echo through the hallway.
Hardly anyone ever comes into my room, the one that houses the surveillance center for the entire compound, but this time Ennio appears in the doorway.
I immediately close the email. I don't want him seeing what I've been doing because, for all I know, he might not approve.
After all, he's benefited from the Ferguson family's help as much as anyone.
Ennio runs the part of our business tied to real estate development and large construction projects, so lucrative contracts with the city's elite and the advantages that come with them matter a great deal to him.
Ennio remains in the doorway for a moment, studying me carefully.
"I assume you've heard already… or maybe you haven't?"
"Heard what?" I type into my speech synthesizer.
He lets out a breath and walks over to me.
His eyes flick briefly to my monitor, but there's nothing interesting on it anymore besides my photo from the day I won my first title in the light heavyweight division and was presented with the championship belt.
He stares at it for a second before speaking again.
"I was looking through the local news today, and one article caught my eye. It was about Jared Ferguson."
Every muscle in my body immediately locks up, and Ennio notices. He tilts his head slightly, a look of disapproval crossing his features.
"I figured as much. So it still bothers you. You've spent the last few years living like a monk. Your entire life revolves only around training."
I don't answer. Instead, I point directly at the monitor, tapping the photo of myself holding my championship belt high above my head. I hope the gesture says enough.
Ennio lets out a quiet scoff.
"Yes, yes. The results speak for themselves.
You focus on your training; congrats on your dedication.
But when was the last time you actually got laid?
You used to flirt with every new omega or beta fighter who joined the division, and now?
You can't keep living completely cut off from people, Mauro. "
He trails off when he catches the skeptical look on my face.
"Mauro, if you think you're ever going to have Jared, you're wrong. And something just happened that's going to make that even less likely."
Swallowing, I turn my head toward the screen. I don't bother typing anything because he would not understand.
Ennio pulls his phone from his pocket and holds the screen in front of me.
The headline reads:
"Aspiring politician Mark Ferguson announces on social media that he and his husband, Jared, are expecting their first child in January."
Oh, wow.
I freeze and blink as though something has struck me in the back of the head, shock crashes through my body so violently that I suddenly can't breathe. But Ennio notices and gives me a firm slap between the shoulder blades. Only then do I finally manage to fill my lungs with air.
"There you go," he sighs. "This was always going to happen sooner or later. It's the logical next step for any politician trying to present the perfect image to voters. A family, children." His mouth twists into a look that's equal parts contempt and bitterness.
Then he slightly leans toward me; a smell of his ever present vape hits my nose and makes me a bit dizzy.
"Jared is a future senator’s hubby. Why would he leave a life like that?"
My fingers tremble. I start writing things like, You don't know anything about me, and I gave up on Jared a long time ago, but I already know Ennio won't believe those lies. In the end, I sag back in my chair and stare at my shaking hands.
My cousin also watches them in silence for a few seconds.
"Mauro, I'm asking you to move on. This has gone on for far too long." His voice is almost scolding now. "Sometimes life just turns out that way, and we have to learn to let things go. And find a way to enjoy it anyway."
I feel irritation, grief, anger, and despair crash into each other inside me. I type a single response onto the screen.
"This is how you live, Ennio! Your entire life is nothing but work and business."
If I thought that would make him back down, I couldn't have been more wrong. He simply walks around the desk until he's standing directly in front of me, his arms folded across his chest.
"Mauro, don't compare our situations. Besides, you know perfectly well I'm not living in celibacy. My needs are taken care of. Can you honestly say the same about yours?"
I snort and type out my reply in quick, sharp taps.
"I'm not interested in meaningless flings anymore. That's part of my past. I want a real relationship."
"Who says you have to fuck around? Find yourself one omega. I’ve been fucking the same beta for the past decade. I advise you to do the same."
"What you have with Marcello is not a relationship. You’re just casual fuck buddies, and it’s not what I want."
Ennio snorts. "May I remind you, we’re mafia, Mauro. Having actual boyfriends would make us vulnerable. It would weaken us and put the people we get involved with in danger."
"I’m not a good fit for a mafioso, then," I write with some defiance.
But I can immediately see from Ennio’s face that it was a bad response.
His brows furrow.
"I’m glad Anzo or Rocco didn’t hear that. They wouldn’t be happy with your attitude."
I really want to type back, The fuck if I care, but I stop myself in time.
Ennio may be more approachable than the rest of my family, but he's still a full-blooded mafioso, and his loyalty lies with Anzo, who pulled him out of his stepfather's abusive household. I need to stay somewhat cautious around him, or at least use some common sense.
"I just want something real. You wouldn’t understand," I type, pursing my lips into a thin line and hoping he'll just leave it alone.
Ennio leans slightly toward me and says, articulating every word.
"Then move on from Jared, Mauro. Find somebody new. They're having a baby. Jared will be tied to Mark even more."
My head drops, my chin resting against my chest. This conversation has no point. So I give him what he wants.
I type, "Don’t worry. Whatever I was hoping for belongs in the past. Jared made his choice. He chose to create a family with Mark. I won't do anything to disrupt that."
Ennio takes his time before finally breaking the silence.
"Listen… Marcello has an omega brother named Ari. He's a really nice guy. He's a huge fan of yours. He cheers for you at every fight. Would you like me to introduce the two of you?"
I squeeze my eyes shut and don't type a single word. I don't have the strength, and more importantly, I don't want to.
No one could ever be Jared.
"Just consider it, Mauro," Ennio's tone is insistent.
Eventually, I can't hold it in anymore, and I type, "Would you really give up someone you believed was your True Mate if you were in my place?"
Silence hangs between us for a moment before he finally answers.
"Not all of us are meant to end up with our True Mate. And some of us never should. It destroyed your parents. They had the Bond, and their souls were connected, so they died together. Our world is too dangerous for that, Mauro. It's irresponsible to drag innocent people into it."
I raise my eyes to his, and for a few seconds we simply look at each other. Ennio isn't wrong. My father pulled my dad into this world, and they both paid the highest possible price because they were fated.
But as long as I don't get close to Jared and initiate the Bond, he's safe.
But then…
A timid thought flickers through my mind. That shy hope that I could leave the mafia someday is still there. The vacation cabins I built on Renato's land have been paying for themselves for the past two years, bringing in a solid income. If I could somehow free myself from this twisted life…
But I'm bound to the crime family by blood, and it means leaving isn't an easy option.
"Move on, Mauro," I hear Ennio's voice, distant now, as though it's coming from a dense fog.
Should I?
The thought alone is soul-crushing.
Jared is going to have a kid with Mark, strengthening their ties.
A dull ache spreads through my chest because I've spent years living on pure hope, and now it seems even more pointless.
My eyes drift to my forearm, where I have Jared's name tattooed, and I notice Ennio looking at it too.
"That's the kind of tattoo you should probably keep covered when you're dating prospective boyfriends," he says with a mocking smirk.
I press my lips tightly together and slowly shake my head.
Ennio just shrugs and leaves, his footsteps echo down the empty hallway.
My tattoo is the one part of my life I'll never be ashamed of. Even if Jared is never to be mine, he'll remain with me in this small, symbolic way.
I wrap the fingers of my other hand tightly around the ink, my nails digging into my skin until it hurts.
The pain is real, and strangely, it helps me accept that I have to step away from Jared's life because an innocent child is about to enter the world.
I lift my eyes to the screen and reopen the tab with my email to Colin Miller.
Feeling defeated, I delete the draft I'd written to him. If I continued with my plan—begging, insisting, offering money—sooner or later, one of them might agree.
But Mark is now Jared's child's father. If I brought about his downfall… I'd also be hurting the one person I want to protect more than anyone else.
I stay alone in the silent room, and my only companion is pain. Dull, relentless, but faithful, squeezing me like an invisible vise.
Jared, my sweet Jared.
A single tear falls onto the desk.
I’m not religious. I don’t believe in prayers, but I remember that my dad would sometimes pray to Fate. Maybe I could try? This one time?
My lips move soundlessly.
Please, please, please… make Jared come to me one day. Please…