by Wolfe, H. M.
"Take you?! I was wrong. You are the same stupid bitch as ever. I'm not going to take you anywhere. I'm going to kill you, like the worthless, pathetic worm you are, by pushing you in front of that truck!"
Elliott didn't flinch, beg or attempt in any other way to change the psycho's decision. He knew better than that. Instead, the blond closed his eyes and started to pray. Not for him to be saved, but for his friends to have a good life. His last thought went to Eugene, and there was no bitterness in it, only gratitude and that something more he couldn't name.
”Hey, dude, if you care about your life, let the young gentleman go. Now!” a cold, commanding voice spoke from behind them.
"Who the hell are you? Mind your own business, loser!" Carter replied in an arrogant voice. He then shoved Elliott off the sidewalk in front of a huge garbage truck, as he ran away.
"It's OK, boss, I got you," the other man said in an assuring, gentle tone, snatching the blond in his arms. "Can you walk?"
"I... I don't know, but I can try," the blond answered in a shaky voice. He managed to take a few steps before his legs gave out. Fortunately, the mysterious man's firm grip prevented him from falling to the ground.
"Here, boss, let's go," the voice spoke again.
With Elliott in his arms, the man headed to a car parked nearby. He unlocked it and put the blond in the backseat, securing him with the seat belt. The man did everything with the utmost care as if he was afraid his touch would hurt the blond. For the first time since he'd been saved Elliott dared to take a look at the man who had rescued him and froze.
The man was huge, about six foot seven, maybe more, and very solidly built. Under his leather jacket and shirt, the blond could picture the bulky muscles flexing, but, unlike in the case of Carter's guards, the image didn't terrify him.
”Where are we going?” Elliott asked the man, who was wrapping a thin, but warm blanket around his shaking form.
"I'll take you home, boss. You need to rest, to overcome the shock. No more work today, just cuddles," the man gently smiled, touching the blond's cheek.
Soon, the warmth from the blanket seeped into Elliott's body, making him relax a little and doze off. When he woke up, two strong arms were holding him, carrying him up the stairs of a luxurious house. All the time, the gentle giant checked on him, the same assuring smile on his lips.
Finally, Elliott's guardian angel stopped in front of a door, knocking softly on it, twice. After waiting a few more seconds, he opened it, stepping into what appeared to be a bedroom, the blond still in his arms.
"Aristarco, why on earth aren't you at work? What could be so important you...Oh, Santa Madonna!" the man who spoke, none other than Eugene, exclaimed, covering his mouth with his left hand.
”Sorry about not informing you earlier, Padrino, but the situation required a quick reaction, so...” the giant said in an almost whispered voice, carefully placing Elliott on the bed.
"What's happened? Is he hurt?" worry poured from Eugene's voice, as he frantically examined the blond.
"I don't think so, maybe his arm is bruised, but other than that... A bastard tried to push him in front of a garbage truck."
"Maledetto bastardo!" Eugene cursed, balling his hands into fists. "Grazie mille, Aristarco, you can leave us for now. I'll call you if we need anything."
"Very well, Padrino," Aristarh answered, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.
Eyes filled with concern and that something else Elliott couldn't or wouldn't dare name. Eugene knelt in front of the blond, removing his shoes and socks. Then, with deft fingers, he started to undo the buttons on his shirt, one by one. Under the older man's touch, Elliott began to shiver, but not in a bad way.
"I want to take a look at the bruise and rub some oil into it, nothing more. If you are uncomfortable, I can, and will, stop whenever you say so." Eugene's voice was soothing, in spite of its firmness, a balm on the blond's aching heart.
"I don't want you to stop. On the contrary, I want you to...go all the way," Elliott whispered, trying to push down the lump in his throat.
"Are you sure about that? I need your consent to everything. I won't go further without it," Eugene locked eyes with the blond.
"You said you would take care of me and you kept that promise. I trust you won't hurt me."
With a small smile on his lips, the older man continued to undress the blond, slowly. As if he performed a sacred ritual. Leaving Elliott in nothing than his underwear, Eugene laid him on the bed. Then, he left the room, only to return a few minutes later, carrying some items he placed on the nightstand.
"No, my love, don't look over there," the older man said, a strange accent in his voice. "You are not allowed to look at anything but me. No noise should distract you, except for the sound of my voice. Capisci, amore mio?"
Eugene's husky, sexy voice gave Elliot goosebumps. He couldn't speak, so he just nodded in understanding.
"Spread your arms and legs. I am going to tie you up. Are you comfortable with that?" the Detroit Mafia boss cast the blond lawyer a worried look.
“As long as it's not very tight, yes," Elliott barely whispered.
"Don't worry, I am not going to hurt you, precious," Eugene assured him with a smile. "But first, I am going to take care of your eyes."
Saying that he took one of the five black, long, thick silk scarfs from the nightstand, covering Elliott's eyes and tying it behind his head. Then, he used the other four to tie the blond's arms and legs to the bedposts. Once finished, Eugene started to undress, carefully following the reactions of the young man lying sprawled on the bed.
Indeed, Elliott was focusing on every swish, every slide, every little sound the other man's clothes were making while falling on the floor. When he heard the zipper of Eugene's pants, the lawyer started to shiver. Only the shivers were provoked by anticipation, not by fear. It was an entirely new feeling for the blond, who began to breathe erratically.
For several moments, there was only silence in the room — nothing to suggest the presence of another person. Then, just when Elliott was about to start worrying, he heard the noise Eugene's footsteps made on the hardwood floor. Then he heard another sound made by an object placed on the nightstand.
The next thing Elliott felt was coldness as if he was packed in ice. After being confused for a few moments, he finally understood. The other man was placing ice cubes on his heated chest, neck, and abdomen. Then, Eugene started to talk in that thick, deep voice that gave Elliott chills, telling the blond how perfect he was, how wonderful, how sweet.
Focused as he was on the words of praise that poured like honey from his lover's mouth, the blond didn't pay attention to the bed dipping next to him or the other things signaling another presence. So, when he felt Eugene's mouth on his cock, Elliott jolted in shock, tugging at his restraints.
But this time, the man who was paying close attention to his reactions chose to ignore him. Instead, he started to tease the slit of the blond’s cock, swirling the tip of his tongue around it and sucking on it until small, pearly drops of precum started to form. By then, Elliott was moaning loudly, lost in the pleasure Eugene’s actions provoked in him.
After a while, the teasing and sucking stopped, leaving the blond somehow disappointed. However, he jolted again, feeling that sinful mouth on his hardness, but this time the hot breath was replaced by a much cooler one. It didn't take long for Elliott to realize the other man had his mouth filled with ice cubes.
But, instead of being uncomfortable, the cold was a blessing, as it calmed the ache in his groin. However, under the action of Eugene's mouth, taking the blond's whole length in, things started to get hot again. Elliott couldn't take anymore and, bucking up, forced his cock to the back of Eugene's throat. Feeling that the blond was at the edge, the Detroit mobster grabbed his hips, preventing him from retreating.
With no choice left, Elliott released his load in the older man's mouth. A million fireworks exploded before his hooded eyes. Smiling affectio
nately, Eugene grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand and started to work Elliott open with care and gentleness. All this time, he showered his young lover with sweet words of praise, making him feel important and cherished.
When he considered him ready, Eugene lined his cock up with Elliot's hole and started to push himself slowly into the blond. Elliot, letting out small gasps and whimpers, tried to stay as still and quiet as he could. Once fully inside, the older man started to move slowly, retreating and thrusting.
Eugene was aware of how traumatized Elliott must have been, so he put everything into making their first time together a pleasurable experience for the blond. He gently caressed the young man, running his hands lightly over his body and beautiful face, as he whispered words of love in his ear.
Elliott started to writhe underneath the older man, begging for more. Eugene gladly complied, taking the young man's cock in his hand, while using the other to support his weight. Calling Elliot's name, he was the first to come, with Elliott close behind.
Freeing his lover from the restraints and the scarf blocking his vision, Eugene washed the proof of their lovemaking off of him. Then, after cleaning himself, he crawled under the covers, hugging Elliott close to him.
"Makhtoub," Eugene said, with a smile on his face, breaking the silence of the room.
CHAPTER 17
”What was that?” Elliott asked, his voice laced with curiosity.
”What was what?” Eugene replied worryingly, propping his head on one elbow. ”Did you hear something or...”
”No, what you said a while ago. That strange word, mak...”
"Oh, makhtoub," the older man sighed, relieved. "It's an Arab expression, the equivalent of what it was written. It's about accepting one's faith and honoring the Almighty's will."
"You didn't mention about being from Arab origins, but it doesn't matter, I realized that today. I had no right to be disappointed about you not saying who you are. I didn't reveal my past, why should you do it?" Elliott's voice was flat, but a right kind of flat.
"It won't happen again. I promise," Eugene spoke in his firm, but soothing voice, as he traced his finger along the blond's face. “In fact, I will tell you everything right here and now."
"You don't have to," Elliott delicately put his finger on the other man's lips. You have your secrets, as I have mine. Your name, be it Brentano, Boormann or otherwise, it's not relevant. The man who takes care of me, who protects me every step of the way can't be a monster."
Elliott's words were music to Eugene's ears. Medicine for his aching heart. He cupped the blond's face, capturing his pink, full, tempting lips in one heated kiss. Tasting his sweet mouth, he explored it and let their tongues dance together. Elliott could feel all the emotions of the other man. From searing passion and never-ending love to fierce possession and the fear of losing him.
"My love, you have the right to know it all. I would have told you everything that fateful day. I swear I was about to show up at your doorstep and explain everything to you, clear up the misunderstanding. Unfortunately, I had to change my plans, because of circumstances I had no control over."
"What happened?" All of a sudden, Elliott felt the urge to know everything about his protector's life. Not out of curiosity, but to know how to console him in times of need.
Eugene let out a long sigh. "My cousin got shot, his husband fell into a depression he wasn't recovering from, and I found out my family is the target of an unseen enemy. That is the abridged version," he smiled weakly.
”Your cousin... is he all right now? How bad was he hurt?” Elliott asked in a shaky voice, moving closer to Eugene.
"Fortunately, it was only a very superficial wound, nothing to worry about. The not-so-good part is that we don't know who's after us or why. All I could manage to get from one of the gunmen is that my cousin and his family are the targets, and the enemies belong to Italian Mafia." While saying the last part, Eugene's eyes darkened and his muscles tensed.
Italian Mafia. Elliott was beyond shocked. The man who indirectly saved him from Carter was a target himself, hunted by the most ruthless criminal organization in the country. What could he do, with only one bodyguard by his side, against an army of highly trained assassins? Elliott closed his eyes, afraid for his protector's life, praying for his safety.
"Don't worry, dolce amore mio. I will deal with it like a true man of honor. I will search them out and bring them down, one by one. Whoever the bastards are, they will curse the day they messed with Cesare Brentano-Fenelli," Eugene cruelly smiled.
"Who's this Cesare guy?" Elliott asked, hope and curiosity mixed in his voice. The situation couldn't be that desperate, after all, if the man next to him had an ally inside the Mafia.
"That would be me," Eugene spoke gently. My full name is Cesare-Eugenio Brentano-Fenelli, and I am the Don of the most powerful family in Detroit. However, you don't have to be afraid. We are different. We have solid principles and rules and..."
"You are right," Elliott cut him short, "I want to know everything. I won't run away, whatever it is, but I want to know." The blond fell silent, waiting for the story to unfold.
"I am the fruit of a forbidden passion," Eugene started. "My mother was the only daughter of the richest Italian businessman and Mafia boss from Detroit, Giacomo Fenelli. My father, Claudio Brentano, was poor, working to support his widowed mother and two younger siblings. Because he was intelligent and hard-working, Giuseppe, the boss' second son, befriended him, and that's how he knew Rosa, my mother."
"Why weren't your parents allow to marry? Was it because of your dad's financial situation?"
"There were many aspects, money included. However, the obstacles didn't stop them. A couple of years later, my grandfather appointed his firstborn, Cesare, as the new Don, dying shortly after. Then, my mother's family fell victim to an ugly betrayal, only she and zio Giuseppe surviving. It was then when my parents conceived me. To save the life of his sister and that of the unborn child, he married her off to a don of minor importance." Eugene's eyes darkened as he remembered the bastard his mother's husband was.
"What about your dad? Why didn't he marry your mom? I mean, he was free to do it, once your grandfather was dead, and your uncle was his friend." As Elliott spoke, Eugene could hear the confusion in his voice, he could see it in the beautiful, sky-blue eyes.
Instead of answering right then, young Brentano hugged the blond, lightly cradling him. With a love-filled gaze, he ran his fingers through the soft, golden curls, then nuzzled into the neck of the man in his arms, inhaling his scent. That took over his senses, like a drug giving a quick high.
Once again, Eugene promised to himself to never let another lover go. To never watch them suffer and die before his eyes. Never again, would he be so helpless. Never again would he let his enemies win, allowing them to take the one he loved.
"Sorry, my love, I was carried away," Eugene smiled to Elliott, seeing the interest and worry mixed in his eyes. “To answer your question from earlier, no, my parents still couldn't marry. In a world governed by strict laws, like the Mafia, their love was doomed from the start. Anyway, mamma, with zio Giuseppe's blessing, kept her unwanted husband away from her bed and her life. The bastard didn't complain, but, when the opportunity presented itself, he struck her straight in the heart." Eugene's eyes darkened, his lips pressed tight.
"Wha… what did he do? Did he killed her?" Elliott's voice shook, his eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill.
"Oh, no, he did worse than that. The scum took her reason to live away, tearing her heart into a million tiny pieces. He is dead now, because otherwise..." Eugene abruptly stopped, not wanting to show Elliott the dark, hatred-filled side of his soul. "Enough of this, my love, you should be sleeping," Claudio's son painfully smiled. "This is a story of blood and hate, and I don't..."
This time, it was the knock on the door what made Eugene stop speaking. Listening carefully, he identified the sound as being the secret code he and Aristarh u
sed in case of emergency. It was for the second time in one day, and the young Mafia boss wondered what else could be wrong.
"What's wrong, Aristarco?" Eugene said, popping his head through the cracked door. "I thought I instructed you not to disturb me unless it's urgent."
"Well, it's an emergency of sorts. Otherwise, I wouldn't have barged in like this, Padrino," Aristarh whispered, sensing his boss' irritation.
"Come in and speak, then," the Fenelli family's head said, opening the door and letting the Russian in. "Elliott knows everything. There are no secrets between us."
"It's about Mister Daniel. He sent me a message saying that he and Mister Tarquin are going to the state prison."
"State prison?! Why on earth are they going there? Or is it something job-related?" Eugene asked and, judging by the look on Aristarh's face, he knew he was not going to like the answer.
”They are paying a visit to Charles Swinton. Mister Tarquin intends to get him out, to help them with an investigation.”