Nero met his father halfway, and they talked in the noise that prevented Domenico from hearing anything but the dull groans coming from Toro, whom Dom had kneeling at his feet.
The moving air pushed back Dom’s hair and got into his nostrils, choking him a bit when Moreno glanced his way sharply before following Nero to the coffin. Nero passed his father a handkerchief and they both inspected the body in silence. Domenico was set on remembering how differently Nero was acting around his father. Was it because of his brother’s body around, or because of some daddy issues, he couldn’t tell. But somewhere, sometime, that knowledge could prove useful.
Moreno finally slammed the coffin shut and walked up to Domenico with Nero trailing behind him like a good PA. Dom was ready to tell the fake story they all agreed upon, but the sight of a Magnum in Moreno’s hand had him freezing to the ground. His back beaded with sweat, and he held his breath when the cartel boss stopped two steps away from him, his expression unreadable.
But there were neither threats nor questions. Toro picked himself up to his knees, screaming into a gag, as if asking for a chance to explain himself, but Moreno’s bullet went cleanly into the middle of his forehead. The lifeless body fell into the grass like a log, leaving only silence and the dying sound of the rotor.
Moreno’s actions startled Domenico, but he realized that with Toro dead, the man needed to establish the hierarchy ladder for a man he hadn’t met yet. Domenico was fine with that. He couldn’t measure up to Moreno’s power. Not yet.
He had been slightly worried that despite hearing of Toro’s supposed betrayal from Nero, Raul would still wish to prod Toro for answers, but the big boss solved that issue as efficiently as a jaguar crushing its victim’s skull in its jaws. Considering this development, Dom was also glad he was wearing black, because it would have been a waste if some of Toro’s blood had sprayed his good linen pants.
“Mr. Moreno. Welcome,” Domenico said, keeping his voice steady and establishing eye contact as soon as Moreno looked up from the dead body that slumped at Domenico’s feet. “I trust your son already told you of the situation that occurred last night.”
Raul Moreno made a curt nod, his lips twisting in a scowl. “Yes. Very unexpected. Who are you?” He spoke very plainly, sharply even, but Domenico understood how much self-control it likely cost Moreno to discuss anything after having witnessed the mangled body of a family member.
Domenico wouldn’t reach out his hand first, to communicate that he considered Moreno a man of higher status, but he smiled. “This all got too messy, but I had doubts about the sincerity of Toro’s intentions for quite some time. I intended to wait and speak to you personally first, but when he attacked your son, I had no other choice but to take over along with Nero Moreno,” Domenico said, lying through his teeth. “There is much to tell, so maybe you would agree to have lunch with me and my family while we discuss this?”
Raul Moreno now swept his gaze over everyone gathered. “I guess it’s necessary in these circumstances. You took over? What about Toro’s suppliers?” he asked, but there it was, he outstretched his hand to Domenico, who accepted it and gave it a sufficiently firm squeeze. He wanted to establish a good working relationship from the very beginning.
Domenico gave Miguel a nod, wordlessly asking him to make the men who would not join the rest of them at the table feel welcome with some of the food left behind by the previous crew. He then showed Moreno the way and walked with him toward the villa. Nero, Mark, and Dana followed in grim silence that became even more noticeable when they could no longer hear the helicopter. It made sense that in some ways they were all like a funeral procession. Domenico had even chosen to wear black to show his respect and ordered everyone else to do the same.
“Mr. Moreno, the Villani Family wanted to establish a connection for some time now. I am an associate of a high-ranking man within that organization,” Dom said, walking through the lawn, which was still dotted by dead bodies that they all chose to ignore for now.
But Moreno did notice. Good. It would drive the point that Domenico was not to be fucked with. “The Villanis want to do business? Through you?” His voice did not hold a trace of scepticism, despite the unusual circumstances. He was growing aware that this meeting could be important.
“It’s a delicate matter. I would prefer to remain a hidden link between the two organizations. I think this could be beneficial for all three of us, because I took charge of the problem your men had at the Mexican-American border last year. If you wish, I could move your goods through the tunnel,” Domenico said, showing Moreno the set table as they entered the dining room through an open French window.
Seth outdid himself with the paella, dessert, and numerous side dishes sprinkled over the table. Just smelling the food had Domenico’s heart filling with confidence.
Moreno sat down next to a very quiet Nero, and soon enough, they all took their places at the table. “You want to tell me that you are offering a deal with Santo Villani? Despite that… unfortunate incident in Mexico? You must know that my organization is a massive undertaking. I wasn’t aware of his presence in the area. I considered the problem of Los Sepultureros a minor hindrance. I’ve had problems with them before and we squashed them so effectively they only started acting out again in recent years. So I gave my men free-reign to dispose of the pest spoiling my plans. Santo Villani’s involvement was purely accidental. I am glad he holds no grudge.”
Domenico nodded. “Santo Villani will not take this personally if a working agreement is established. He is a practical man,” he said, suggesting plainly enough that it was the Don himself who wished to facilitate the business.
Raul Moreno nodded, giving himself time to answer. “Good. We will talk details then. You said you’re taking over Toro’s business? Do I understand that correctly? I didn’t care about the man, but his connections in the arms business were invaluable. Do you think you can work with the same people now that he’s gone?”
Domenico smiled and nodded at Seth, who started filling all the plates with food, one by one. He didn’t interfere in the conversation, but then again, Domenico and Moreno were talking in Spanish. “I am certain I can. I will be staying here, and I will use his name too,” Dom said, taking a bite of the food to let Moreno know it was safe to eat.
Things were looking up for the Vincitore family. With this new setup, Domenico would be playing the long game, establishing himself far away from any Italians who could know his face, and making connections that would serve him even once he returned to Italy. No one would dare disrespect him for his relationship, because he would simply crush them if they did. Once he found Mr. Tropico, once he earned such good connections for the Villanis, Santo would have no other option but to invite them back not as beggars, but as equals.
Their new home sickened Domenico with its decor, but it was also grand, fit for a powerful man and his family, and they would make it their own. The men locked up downstairs would obediently crawl to his feet as soon as he let them out of their kennel, and they’d be ready to listen to orders from a new master. The armory alone could supply a whole unit of special force soldiers, but Dana confirmed that there were more weapons prepared for shipping all around the property. A sense of power ran in his veins, and he relaxed further, smoothly conversing with Moreno.
His eyes trailed over Seth, who discreetly nudged Dom’’s foot under the table.
Domenico truly had everything he needed.
Dom & Seth’s story will continue in book 7
(But make sure you read the post-credits scene! :) )
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His Favorite Color is Blood (Sex & Mayhem #8)
K.A. Merikan
--- When life gives you blood, make mayhem. ---
Grim. Assassin. Leather-clad sex god. Has the most unusual taste in men.
Misha. Mutilated. Afraid. Will never trust again.
Grim is a bloodthirsty killer, and he owns it. Gay in a world of outlaw bikers, he firmly stands his ground if anyone dares to cross him. He takes pleasure in showing homophobes their place and fucking his way through a life of carnage.
But there is a part of him always aching for something he cannot get. When by chance he saves the most perfect guy he’s ever met, he is not about to let him go. Even if it means he needs to smother his broken bird.
When a masked, bloodstained man rescues Misha from captivity, he doesn’t know if he should thank the menacing stranger or stab him and run. Grim is not the kind of man who takes no for an answer, and Misha might now be in more danger than when he was trapped as a sex slave.
Misha cannot deny though that Grim is as alluring as he is frightening, and once Misha realizes what power his body holds over Grim, he understands that taming the beast of a man could be within his reach.
But any possibility of a future together is like a house of cards when Zero, the sadistic crime lord who destroyed Misha’s life, sets out to get him back.
Will the ruthless biker assassin at Misha’s side be enough to conquer the monsters from his past?
Themes: Outlaw motorcycle club, organized crime, assassin, chase, disability (amputee), devotee, revenge, redemption, kidnapping, road trip, fear, hurt/comfort
Genre: M/M dark erotic romance, thriller
Length: ~110,000 words (standalone novel)
WARNING: This book contains adult content that might be considered taboo. Strong language, violence and torture. Reader discretion advised.
Post-credits scene (Diego)
The midday sun showered El Encanto’s biggest church with a heat so sharp Diego found refuge in the shadows of a well-maintained park across the street. The building has been recently renovated, but the shape of the front, with wide sides and a tall tower, reminded Diego of a toy rocket despite the pleasant color of its walls and ceramic tiles on the roof. It did prove that the new Toro was a religious man, since he was the one to fund the repairs.
Diego sipped cold beer from a can, hiding between the leaves when the front doors of the church opened and people started slowly pouring out. He half expected Toro to leave first, but the mysterious figure that took over the arms trade in the area two years ago wasn’t in a rush. When he finally appeared, Diego did not have to wonder or look at the picture in his pocket. The three tall men who exited through the door, immediately putting on sunglasses, stood out from the crowd of other church-goers.
With his long hair and elegant style, Toro didn’t seem to fit the dirty streets of El Encanto, but when the man lifted his arms to tie his hair into a ponytail, the two gun holsters peeking out from under his linen jacket reminded Diego of who Toro was.
The youngest man, with a mop of curly dark hair, carried himself with the same suave charm. Mark was allegedly Toro’s son, but since Toro couldn’t be older than thirty, the guy must have been adopted. They had similar build, with Mark being slightly smaller and shorter, but the fitted shirt made him look mature.
And then there was Seth, the man of whom Diego hadn’t even managed to get a photo of. Toro grabbed his lover’s hand, and Diego’s heart skipped a beat at the audacity of it all. But he supposed a man like Toro could do whatever he wanted in El Encanto, even go to church on Sunday with his male lover.
Even though had Diego arrived in El Encanto to spy on Toro, he couldn’t help but allow his gaze to drift back to Seth. In comparison to the other two, Seth seemed most relaxed even if he too wore a white shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong tan forearms covered in black hair.
Seth was the one to pull Toro forward with a wide smile, and it was as if he pulled on something in Diego as well, making him follow.
Toro’s lover was built like a gay porn star, with a wide back and an ass that beckoned Diego’s eyes despite his jeans fitting on his hips somewhat loosely, in contrast to the shirt which seemed almost too tight. He was the tallest of the three, and his haircut—with hair shaved on the sides and a short, messy quiff—only accentuated his masculine features.
The passersby ignored the two men holding hands, and it made Diego grin widely as he followed the three local VIPs at a safe distance, still sipping from the can. They eventually reached a row of market stalls selling all kinds of produce, and Seth pulled on Toro’s hand, taking him into the shadow. Mark sat on a bench nearby, leaving Diego a clearer view of the handsome Seth talking with the elderly seller while wildly gesturing at various products. He likely didn’t speak Spanish very well then.
Diego slowly circled the stall, making sure he was still within the crowd, though his own height wasn’t helping with stealth. The scruff on Seth’s face made him wonder how it would feel against his thighs, and he could already imagine the guy on his knees in front of Toro. Sure, Diego had expected a man like Toro to have the very best the world had to offer in terms of partners, but he’d envisioned someone smaller, maybe more effeminate, not the bull of a man in front of him.
Seth smiled widely at Toro as he picked out tomatoes, touching each with those big hands and making Diego groan. When Seth was done, he wrapped his arm around Toro’s shoulder and gave his lover a quick kiss on the cheek as Toro paid for the groceries.
Seth fumbled with his pockets, and when something fell out, he scooted down to pick it up. The movement made his jeans slide lower, revealing a white band over a stripe of bare skin. The kinky bastard was wearing a jockstrap, and Toro definitely noticed, as he took his time staring until Seth got to his feet with a bright smile. He unfolded the small pouch he picked up and revealed it to be a fabric bag, which he filled with his purchases.
Toro pulled him close, and his hand slid right into the back pocket of Seth’s jeans, laying a claim on that perfectly proporti
oned ass. It made Diego fill with such a surge of irrational rage he only noticed he’d crushed the can in his hand when cold beer flooded his hand.
Diego’s mind was still spinning with the image of that ass in a jockstrap, and he now wished he still had the cool beer to force down the heat rising somewhere inside his rapidly drying throat. If he had a man like Seth, he’d bend him over the table as soon as they got home and fucked him so hard the piece of man-candy would scream his name.
He couldn’t fight the sweat forming on his forehead as if he were getting feverish with all the sudden fantasies that involved Seth on his knees, begging for Diego to fuck him. It felt like getting hit by a truck, and Seth was the driver.
There was no other way.
Diego would have him.
READ A CUT SCENE:
http://gunsnboys.com/book-6-cut-scene-miguel/
Bloodbath Page 35