Michael’s face softened. “He promised not to hurt you,” he said, hugging him back, making me want to slap my brother’s distorted sense of romance out of his head. The boy wasn’t doing it because he wanted to be with him, he was doing it because he was scared shitless of me.
“But, he murdered my friends,” Thierry said.
“Which he won’t do to you.” Michael detached himself from the boy and held him out for me to take. Thierry tried to turn back, begging to stay with him, causing my brother to look even more pained.
I grabbed Thierry, wrapping my arms around him so he couldn’t move. The boy screamed and tried to get free. I tightened my grip and placed my chin on his shoulder, grinning at my brother. “Hurry, Michael, before I decided to hurt your sweet angel.”
“You promised you wouldn’t!” Michael snapped.
“You promised not to touch Matteo, so stop talking and get to work.”
Michael glared at me for a moment, then spun around and went to the back of the van to get the girls.
Matteo walked up to me. “Thank you.”
“This is only the tip of the iceberg, Matteo,” I said. “Wait until you see what other punishments I have in store for him. He will pay for what he did to you; that’s a promise.”
He nodded at me, the frown lines on his forehead smoothing out. I could see my words meant something to him; I just hoped they meant enough to keep my brother alive.
Matteo went to the rear of the van. I followed with the boy, watching as my nephew climbed inside. My brother’s eyes flicked to me. I ran a finger across Thierry’s throat, making the boy whimper.
“Christo!” Michael snapped. “Stop scaring him.”
Amused at his annoyance, I smiled. “I will, once you stop wasting my time.”
Michael yelled at Matteo to grab the dead man’s arms.
An evil smirk crossed Matteo’s face. He climbed out of the van and sat down on its edge. “You do it.”
“I can’t,” Michael said, “I’m holding his legs.”
“You’re a priest, conjure up a miracle.”
“I can’t make miracles happen!”
Matteo shrugged. “Not my problem.”
Michael turned to me. “Make him help me.”
“Matteo, help him.”
Sighing, Matteo climbed back into the van. He took a hold of the dead bodyguard’s arms, helping my brother get him out, then he let go as he pushed out of the van, making Michael drop the man.
“Matteo!” Michael yelled. “Pick him up.”
Smirking, Matteo rubbed his shoulder. “I think I pulled a muscle. Looks like you have to carry him by yourself.”
“He’s too heavy.”
Matteo walked up to me. “How about I take care of Thierry? Maybe you can help your evil twin while I give pretty boy a helping hand.” He licked his palm. “All ready now.”
“No!” Michael yelled.
I whispered into the boy’s ear. “Come under Matteo’s hand and I will never take a knife to your throat.” I thrust him into Matteo’s arms. “Don’t hurt him; just do what my brother would.”
“No!” Michael said, looking distressed. “He’s not allowed to fuck him.”
“I never thought of that, but now you’ve enlightened us,” I grinned, “maybe Matteo can show Thierry the second coming.”
Michael stormed up to Matteo.
I pushed in front of him. “If you touch Matteo again, I will hold you down while he kicks the shit out of you.”
“I still won’t allow him to fuck Thierry,” he said, his expression now vicious.
“He won’t; he’s not that way inclined. He likes to be fucked, just not by you.”
“I still don’t want him touching Thierry.”
“Again, I didn’t want you to rape Matteo, but you still did him anyway.”
Thierry whimpered behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, finding Matteo fondling Thierry’s cock, which my nephew had obviously pulled out. Disgusted, I returned my attention to my furious brother.
“Let him go!” Michael yelled, going for Matteo again.
I shoved him back. “Calm down! He’s just doing it to upset you.”
“Well, he’s doing a damn good job of it.”
“Then don’t react. Help me with the crucifixion, then you can have your boy back.”
Michael’s eyes flashed, but instead of challenging me again, he turned and grabbed the dead soldier’s arms. I took a hold of the man’s legs, knowing this was going to be bad for my body, the strain too much, but I also knew that my nephew needed his revenge.
Thierry gasped; no doubt Matteo’s handling affecting him. Michael looked up, his eyes again flashing murder, but instead of shouting at Matteo, who was now kissing Thierry’s neck, he lifted the soldier and started walking with me to the crosses. By the time we got there, I wanted to throw up. We dumped the soldier at the foot of the cross, then headed back for the three sisters. Michael grabbed some rope and one of the dead girls, swinging her over his shoulder as though she weighed nothing. He was in much better physical condition than I was, but then again, he didn’t have fucking cancer.
I sat down on the van’s edge for a moment’s rest, before grabbing the next sister. I carried her up the hill, willing myself not to stop—or to collapse, because she was damn heavy. I dumped her on the ground, watching as Michael pulled the first girl up onto the cross by ropes, securing her to it. He then did the same for her sister, not asking me for help, although he kept glancing at me, probably guessing I felt like collapsing. But I held strong, because if I showed him any weakness he would be jumping Matteo in a second.
Once he was done, we went back for the surviving girl, who was gagged and crying. Michael stopped in front of Matteo and Thierry, but instead of showing anger, his eyes lit up with lust, because Matteo had the boy jerking him off as well as returning the favor. Matteo froze when he saw my brother staring at him, our nephew having just realized he’d made a mistake, the show he was putting on doing the opposite of angering Michael now.
Matteo smacked Thierry’s hand away and let go of the boy, quickly doing his pants up, the irritation on his face clear.
I walked up to the boy and took a hold of him. “Take over for me, Matteo,” I said.
He shook his head.
“My brother won’t touch you, I promise.”
He went back for Thierry, holding his arms out. “I’ll stay with Thierry.”
“No, Matteo, you made a mistake; you thought Thierry jerking you off would anger my brother, but it did the opposite. So, go help him carry the last girl.”
“I won’t get Thierry to touch me again.”
“It’s too late; you lit a fire, now I have to extinguish it.” I moved my hand to Thierry’s throat, wiping the lust from my brother’s face. “Hurry up, dear brother,” I said, “or I’ll send your angel to Heaven.”
Michael rushed towards the last girl and slung her over his shoulder. He grabbed some more rope, then lumbered up the hill, not asking for Matteo’s help.
Matteo watched as my brother pulled the last girl onto the middle cross. “Why did you leave Irene alive?”
“So she can tell her father what happened.”
“But, that will endanger our family. The Landi will slaughter them.”
“The Rossos have gotten them to safety.”
“But, what about the Rossos? Irene will implicate them too.”
I smiled. “I know.”
Matteo stared at me in shock. “You’re double-crossing them?”
“Sì.”
“You can’t do that, they’re helping us.”
“It’s a necessity. I need the Landi to attack them, so the Santini will come to their aid.”
“That will start a war.”
“I know. And even better, it will land the D’Angelos right in the middle of it, since both the Santini and the Landi are their allies.” My focus shifted to my brother as he continued securing the girl to the middle cross. I turned back to
Matteo, indicating for him to come closer. “I want you to seduce Thierry,” I whispered into his ear. “That will be torture for my brother.”
Matteo smiled. “Okay.”
I moved my lips to Thierry’s ear. “Do you find Matteo attractive?”
Thierry’s eyes shifted to Matteo, but he remained silent.
I smacked the back of his head, making him yelp. “Answer me.”
He whimpered. “Oui. Il est extrêmement beau.”
“Thierry just told me you’re very handsome,” I said to Matteo, making my egotistical nephew smile.
“You speak French?” Thierry said, his cheeks now burning red.
“I speak several languages. So … you will have no trouble if Matteo kisses you and touches you whenever he wants?”
“No.”
“What about if my brother kisses and touches you?”
“I don’t wish him to; he hurt my brother.”
“I understand. But, do you find my brother attractive?”
“I’m scared of him.”
“But, you still turn to him for protection.”
“He said he won’t hurt me.”
“And you trust him?”
“I don’t trust anyone but my family.”
“But, you said he won’t hurt you.”
“As long as I do as I’m told, and I will—I always do as I’m told.”
“What about when he tries to fuck you? Will you fight back then?”
“There’s no point in fighting; I will always lose.”
“It’s the principal.”
“I will still lose, and if I don’t fight I will be hurt less.”
“But, you find my brother repulsive.”
“I didn’t say that. He is still physically attractive. I will focus on that and blank out everything else. I’ve done worse.”
“Ha!” I said, finding the boy of more interest now. Maybe he wasn’t as weak as I thought, just someone who knew how to survive. “Many people wouldn’t respect that, but I do. By the way, zip yourself up, I don’t want to see your small cock, and a word of advice: fall for my brother, not Matteo, no matter how hard Matteo tests you.”
Thierry’s eyes moved to Matteo as my nephew sat down on the edge of the van. “That will be hard,” he said, still watching him.
“Why’s that?”
“I like Matteo a lot.”
“Even after he hurt your famiglia?”
Thierry frowned. “He didn’t hurt them.”
“He shot your uncle, Frano’s father.”
“He’s not Frano’s real father, and that monster deserved to die after he murdered my cousin’s parents.”
“What do you mean he’s not Frano’s real father?” I said, not sure whether I’d heard right.
“The old don killed Frano’s real papa after he found out my cousin wasn’t his son.”
“So, Frano’s not even a D’Angelo?”
“Alberto and Frano have the same mother—that’s all. It’s why he’s called Frano.”
“How do you mean?”
“Like his name, his biological father is Croatian.”
I smiled. “Really? You’re a wonderful source of useful information.”
Thierry stiffened in my arms. “How is that useful?”
“Nothing for you to worry about, boy,” I said, knowing the older, more prejudiced dons wouldn’t like being led by a half-cast, especially a Slav.
Movement caught my attention. I looked up at the hill as Michael headed back down it, the sight behind him breathtaking. “You have done a magnificent job,” I yelled out to him.
He turned around to look at the three crosses on the hill, the Landi sisters depicting a female version of the crucifixion scene, the twilight surrounding them adding to the surreal effect. I pulled out my phone and took a picture, planning to send it to their father once we were settled into our next safe-house.
Michael turned around and rushed over to Thierry, tearing the boy from my grasp. He pushed Thierry towards the van, snapping that he wasn’t to touch Matteo again. He manhandled Thierry into the backseat, the boy no doubt going to be punished. I shook my head and went for the front passenger seat, while Matteo got behind the wheel.
Matteo started up the engine. “Are you going to send that picture to the Landi?”
“Sì. I will also send a warning to the Rossos as well.”
Matteo frowned as he pulled out onto the road. “You don’t make sense. You ask for their help, they give it to you, then you double-cross them, and right after that you warn them? You sound like you have a split personality.”
“No, it’s just all one giant mindfuck, of which I will come out looking like a hero to the Rossos. I will tell them that one of my spies informed me about the planned attack, so they will think I’m watching their backs. And secondly, they will bring in help so the fight will be much more interesting.”
Matteo smiled, cottoning onto what I was saying. “Like you said earlier: they will call the Santini. And once the Santini get involved, Frano will be up shit creek without a paddle.”
“Because the Santini are related to him and he has a house full of Landi soldiers.”
Matteo grinned. “Exactly.”
“Which means that Frano will soon be facing his worst nightmare.”
“And Alessandro Santini too. He’s also in the house.”
My smile widened. “I didn’t know that.”
“I found out from Gianna that he’s Frano’s new trainer.”
“That’s even more perfect.”
Matteo turned a corner. “Who do you think will kill who first?”
“The Landi will win, which means that Alessandro is as good as dead.”
“What a waste. He may be pretty, but he’s got the best looking cock in porn.”
“He does porn?”
“Yup. That’s why he’s famous, just a pity it’s straight porn. Gianna told me all about it a while ago. She’s bit of a crazed fan when it comes to Alessandro.”
“I thought he was a model.”
“That’s what he tells everyone, but it’s porn.” Matteo sighed. “Still a waste of fine meat. He has one hell of a body.”
“For a body bag.”
ALESSANDRO
The chauffeur pulled up to the D’Angelo house, and not soon enough. I normally loved women, liked everything about them: the way they looked, smelled, talked, everything. They were such fascinating creatures, especially the beautiful ones. But the older of the two Donatelli women in the backseat was the exception to the rule. She may have been physically beautiful, but her personality was uglier than a troll. She was a complete troia, who wouldn’t stop complaining about everything and anything. My brother must be mad to like her, because she made Camila look like an angel in comparison.
I got out of the car and opened the back door for the younger of the two sisters, who was the first nice Donatelli I had ever met. She was lovely, a rose amongst the Donatelli thorns. Like her sister, she was a stunning raven-haired beauty, only her lack of intelligence letting her down. Though, I suppose that could also be a plus, because the ditzy ones dropped their panties without me even trying to get into them. She also had a cute little giggle that made my balls tingle. Hmm … she was a prime candidate to meet my prince, although I knew once I saw Honey again, I would forget about Andriena Donatelli in a second. I had been looking forward to tonight. Just the thought of being in the same bed as Honey made my cock harden, although Andriena was doing her best to distract me from thinking about the blonde beauty.
She got out of the car and put an arm around my waist, her touch making my cock twitch in anticipation, which wasn’t difficult, because, fuck, I was horny all the time. She smiled up at me as though I was her hero, the person who had saved her from my famiglia’s soldiers. Still, she would’ve liked me anyway—most women did.
“Andrea,” Ghita snapped, for some reason calling her sister the male version of her name. “Don’t touch him; you’ll catch a disease from
the manwhore.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Andriena said, giving my waist a squeeze. “She’s just jealous.”
“I’m not jealous! I had Ricardo until Alessandro took me away from him.”
“I thought you didn’t like his brother.”
“I only pretended because I couldn’t have him. Papa would never have allowed us to get married, but now things are different,” she said, looking sad, no doubt over the death of her father, “I can finally marry him.”
“Then why did you come with us?”
“So I could speak with Camila about making the rest of the famiglia accept our engagement. After all, the Santini are still our enemy.”
“Not this one,” Andriena said, leaning into me. “He’s my hero.”
“He’s not a hero, Ricardo is. He’s the one who saved you from his rapist famiglia.”
Anger flashed through me. “My famiglia are not rapists!”
“They raped Andriena.”
“They did no such thing; it was the hired help,” I said, knowing the female had been forced. Only Ghita had been spared, since everyone knew my brother was in love with her. Ricardo would’ve killed anyone who had touched her, and gruesomely, my oldest brother’s violence well known.
Andriena’s lip trembled. I ran a hand down her thick black hair and whispered into her ear, feeling bad for thinking sexual thoughts about her. “You’re safe now; I won’t allow any harm to come to you.”
She looked up at me. Her blue eyes were glistening with unshed tears, the woman holding them in, but she still smiled, probably to put me at ease.
“Let’s go inside,” I said.
We walked towards the house. Andriena’s gaze moved to the Landi soldier standing guard at the front door. There were also other men at the entrance of the driveway, while laborers worked on the new fence Frano was having built.
The Landi soldier opened the door for us. I moved my hand to Andriena’s back, directing her inside.
“Wow!” she said, stopping in the entrance, her gaze moving from the polished marble floors to the chandelier over our heads. I gave her a gentle push forward, steering her into the lounge. She ran her fingers over an antique cabinet, declaring it was beautiful.
“It’s alright,” Ghita muttered, behind her, the woman’s tone dismissive.
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