18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

ORION

I’m not sure if I can imagine anything more satisfying than marching the Mafia underboss back into the gym with his hair disheveled and a bratty scowl on his kiss swollen lips.

The guys who fled into the locker room when Elio arrived are back at their weight benches or punching bags now. Every eye turns in our direction as we step back inside. There’s a surprising amount of power and control in it. Enough to make my chest swell just a little. I could see how this kind of thing might go to someone’s head, especially when it’s all they’ve ever known.

Elio looks over his shoulder at me and I harden my expression, not leaving any room for him to try to worm his way out of this. Spanking him over the hood of his car was hardly a punishment. That was my miss. But a public correction of his bad behavior? Yeah, I think that will do the trick. And hopefully it’ll solve my problem too.

He clears his throat, straightens his tie, smooths out his suit jacket…

I nudge him between the shoulder blades.

“I’m doing it,” he grumbles under his breath.

“Try that again, Brat?” I bark back, not bothering to keep my voice down. If he wants to fuck around, then I don’t mind everyone else knowing what a spoiled shit he likes to be. A spoiled shit who’s always eager to get on his knees for me. A spoiled shit who drew me a bath and massaged my shoulders until I melted like butter. A spoiled shit who wrapped himself around me like I was a teddy bear in his bed, then threw his weight and money around to take care of my brother without me ever asking.

He’s right, I don’t want easy . I want whatever the hell this is. For better or for worse.

Elio huffs but doesn’t test the tenuous control I have on my patience. Instead, he clears his throat, as if everyone isn’t already focused on him with a kind of morbid curiosity and fear written all over their faces.

“There’s a misunderstanding I want to correct. The threat I made about hurting Orion was only meant to apply to guys fighting dirty. Treat him like you’d treat any other fighter. If I catch anyone pulling their punches or avoiding getting into the ring with him, then we’re going to have a problem.”

“You can’t even help yourself, can you?” I sigh.

He turns back towards me and shrugs, not looking the least bit apologetic about managing to find a loophole to threaten everyone in the gym when he’s supposed to be eating crow.

“You wanted it fixed. It’s fixed.” He drops his voice lower. “I can’t look weak, Boss. It puts you in danger, and it puts my family in danger.”

“Yeah, alright.” I hadn’t thought about how much pressure there must be to always make sure everyone is properly terrified of you. Or maybe I have. It’s not like I live my life all that differently, the threats are just different.

“Listen, if you’re done reminding me who’s boss and making my dick hard, I actually swung by for a reason,” he says, his voice still low. No one is paying attention to us anymore, aside from the occasional nervous glance they’re still giving Elio.

My skin prickles with unspent adrenaline and nerves. I grunt and nod.

“Let me grab my stuff and you can tell me about it in the car.” I’m already moving towards the locker room to grab my bag, but I turn around mid-stride to smirk at him. “By the way, this counts as a second week. Make sure payroll knows.”

Elio scoffs. “You work one day a week and expect to get paid like that?”

“Supply and demand.” I wink, then spin back around just in time to push through the swinging door.

It only takes me a minute to grab my bag and tie my hair up. I have no clue where we’re headed, but I’m not optimistic enough to think I’ll get off as easily as I did the other night. If all Elio needed was someone to stand behind him and scowl, I’m sure he has plenty of goons for that. The luxury of cleaning up later in that jungle waterfall he calls a shower is at least something to look forward to.

Elio’s waiting for me right where I left him, and as far as I can tell, everyone’s gotten bored with staring at him and returned to their training. When I reach him, I throw an arm around his shoulders. He leans into me in a way that feels completely casual, completely natural . We could be a couple of guys headed out for a nice date at a fancy restaurant for all anyone else would know. Maybe I’ll get him to order us some expensive takeout after we maim whichever criminal is on our list this afternoon.

Is that romance? It kind of feels like it is.

“We’re going to talk to Jimmy Lee,” Elio tells me once we’re in the thick of the city traffic, headed towards the west side of the city.

“And who exactly is Jimmy Lee?” More importantly, does Elio have some kind of spreadsheet on hand that he can reference as needed? Or does he just remember the name of every petty dealer and pimp in Wildcliff off the top of his head?

“He’s got his fingers in a bit of everything. Drugs, girls, gambling. Xaviaro’s had to rough him up a few times to remind him of his place, but for the most part, he’s a mid-level conman willing to do just about anything for a quick buck or some street cred,” he explains.

Just the name ‘Xaviaro’ sends a chill down my spine. You don’t have to be a criminal in this city to know not to cross the infamous trigger man.

“So, he’ll know what Casimir is up to. What are the chances he’ll give it up easily?” I keep my voice steady, hoping Elio can’t hear the slight quiver of nerves underneath.

“Depends how much of a cut he’s taking on the whole thing.” He shrugs one shoulder and turns down the next street, taking us through a neighborhood that’s a step above mine. The buildings are older, but a lot of them have been renovated in the past few years, bringing up the prices on the entire block.

“I guess that’s where I come in.” I test out the cocky threat, surprised by how natural it feels.

Elio’s description of Jimmy hits closer to home than I would like too. He’s willing to do anything for cash and a boost to his reputation. I could’ve said the same thing about Jack. I could say the same thing about myself. It’s not like I got into MMA for fun. I did it because throwing my fists around was the only way I knew how to survive. I did it for money. And right now, I’m in the passenger seat of Elio’s car for the exact same reason.

Maybe the only difference between a criminal and a law-abiding person is desperation. Elio might not be desperate like Jimmy or like me, but he’s desperate in his own ways. He’s backed into corners just like I am, they’re just different corners.

He pulls into a spot in front of one of the nicer buildings on the street and parks.

“Ready to do this?”

“As I’ll ever be,” I say, pushing my door open and getting out.

No one on the sidewalk spares us so much as a glance. You’d think Elio’s expensive suit and flashy car would draw some looks, but I guess most people in this city know better than to stare. You mind your business and you keep your head down, that’s the only way to survive. Unless you want to rely on fists and bullets. I guess I chose my lot a long damn time ago, I just didn’t realize it.

I’m about to ask him how he plans to get inside the building when someone steps out and Elio hurries forward to catch the door with a polite smile. The man nods, either assuming we live in the building or not giving a damn one way or the other. Elio pulls the door open wider and waves me through.

The hallway smells like fresh paint, all the walls a pristine white that makes my eyes ache as I follow Elio up the stairs.

“You know the home address of every criminal in this city by heart?” I ask.

He chuckles. “Not all of them. Just the ones who cause enough trouble to warrant a visit from time to time. It’s Xav’s department, but what kind of upper management would I be if I didn’t know how the sausage is made?”

I wrinkle my nose, imagining a faceless mob hitman in an Armani suit stuffing some greasy dude into a meat grinder and making sausage with him. Now there’s a morbid thought. Although, it might make for an interesting cooking show.

“ Welcome back to Hitman Kitchen. This afternoon we have a nicely marbled pimp that I’m going to show you how to properly grill. Now, if you don’t have your own fresh corpse on hand, store bought is fine. But I do highly recommend a fresh kill if you have the time. It makes all the difference. ”

A manic laugh bubbles up in my throat, and I shake off the gruesome daydream.

“Here we are,” Elio says, stopping in front of apartment 3C. He raises his fist and pounds hard. It’s the kind of knock that would set anyone’s heart racing on the other side of the door.

We wait. I strain my ears, listening for any sign of movement inside the apartment, my face fixed into a hard, threatening mask. The minutes tick by without an answer.

“Open the fuck up, Jimmy. We need to talk.” Elio raps his knuckles on the door again. He barely waits this time before reaching for the doorknob. It twists easily in his hand, and the door creaks open. “Jimmy Lee,” he shouts into the apartment. “You’re trying my patience, asshole.”

Still no answer, but the unmistakable metallic smell of blood fills my nose.

“Maybe he’s not home?” It’s wishful thinking, I know that even as I mutter the words and follow Elio into the apartment.

Everything inside looks relatively neat and tidy. No obvious sign of a struggle. But the thick stench of blood gets stronger the deeper we go. Elio heads straight for a door just past the living room, and I’m right behind him. Just like the front door, it’s unlocked, and it swings open easily.

What’s left of Jimmy Lee is sprawled out on his bed. I think his comforter used to be white, but it’s soaked crimson now. I put a hand over my mouth and nose, but that doesn’t do much to stop the odor seeping in. It’s not rot—I’m guessing he hasn’t been dead long enough—but blood and gunpowder have a stomach-churning scent all their own.

“Well, fuck,” Elio mutters with a put-out sigh. “I guess he finally pissed off the wrong person.”

“Or someone didn’t want him to talk. Maybe Manny let it slip to someone that you were coming here to get some answers about Casimir.”

His eyebrows go up, and he nods. “Good point. Whoever it is could still be hanging around. We’d better deal with this, and then I think it might be time to go straight to the source.”

“Casimir?” I guess.

“Yup. I’m not going to waste time chasing my tail all over the city if someone’s playing these fucking games.” He shrugs out of his jacket and walks over to the closet to grab a hanger, casual as can be. He hangs it up, then rolls up his shirtsleeves. “You have the stomach to help me with this? Or do you want to go wait outside?”

Do I? I eye the corpse and lower my hand from my mouth, drawing in steady breaths to calm my stomach.

“I can do it.”

“You sure, Boss? I won’t think any less of you. This shit is far from glamorous.”

“I’ll be fine,” I answer again.

Elio’s phone starts to buzz in his pocket.

“Hey, Enz, what’s up?” he answers. I can’t hear the words coming from the other end, but the deep, even tone of his brother’s voice is exactly what I would expect from everything I’ve heard about Lorenzo Moretti. Elio chuckles at whatever Lorenzo says. “Good timing, actually. Just walked in on a proper crime scene at Jimmy Lee’s place. Looks like two to the head. We think he probably knew something, and someone made sure he wouldn’t talk.”

They trade a few more words before Elio hangs up and shoves his phone back into his pocket.

“You can thank my brother for saving you from having to save face and dismember a body. He’s sending some guys over to handle it for us. We’ve gotta get down to Wild for a family meeting about Casimir.”

My heart jumps into my throat. A meeting with the most powerful Morettis? I think I’d rather deal with the corpse.

ELIO

Orion didn’t say a word on our drive from Jimmy’s place to the club. He’s stiff next to me, his fingers crushing mine as I lead him through Wild.

“Don’t worry, Boss. They’re all bark.” I tighten my hand around his.

He chokes out a sound that I think is meant to be laughter, but is just a little too nervous to quite pull it off. “They literally all kill people.”

“Well, yeah, but almost never during a family meeting.” I wave off his concern with my free hand.

“Right,” he mutters. “Should I even be here?”

His question stops me short for a second. I spin on him and grab a fistful of his shirt, the same way he did to me earlier. I’m no stranger to using intimidation when necessary, throwing my weight around, getting up in guys’ faces. But I feel off-kilter grabbing Orion when I would much rather he be the one manhandling me .

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t go around getting deep with random people. I sure as hell don’t let just anyone boss me into a public spanking in broad daylight. But if all of this is casual for you and I’m making a fool of myself, tell me now.”

He ghosts his fingertips along my jaw, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard and then nods. I lean into the touch, and as soon as I do, he slips his hand behind my neck and jerks me forward, bringing us nose to nose.

“You saying I’m family whether I like it or not?” His lips twitch with amusement and I nod, bumping my forehead against his.

He huffs out a sigh, then catches my mouth in a rough, claiming kiss.

“Come on.” I let go of his shirt and tug on his hand when he breaks the kiss. “Give them a chance. You might even like them.”

Orion grunts and we make our way through the rest of the club to the Moretti table.

All eyes swivel in our direction as we approach. There’s a subtle lift of Lorenzo’s brow, and Alessio grins with childlike fucking glee as he looks Orion up and down. Sal sputters a cough into a sip of his drink, and Sparrow doesn’t even try to muffle his shocked gasp. Xaviaro is the only one who looks entirely bored by this new development. His eyes flick to our joined hands with indifference before he returns to his usual pastime of absently scanning the surrounding area.

“You didn’t tell any of them I was coming, did you?” Orion mutters quietly.

“It was implied,” I scoff.

“Was it?” Alessio drops his feet from the table and straightens himself up. “Maybe I missed the memo about your new… bodyguard?”

“That definitely must have gotten lost in the interoffice mail, because I didn’t get it either,” Sal says.

“You didn’t tell them about me at all, did you?” I can’t tell whether Orion sounds annoyed or amused.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. It’s not like we make a habit of sitting around talking about our feelings. Orion and I are together. There, now you all know.” I turn and snag an extra chair from a nearby table.

“You know, you’re right, I’ve always said we should make time to talk about our feelings more,” Alessio says solemnly.

“I’m feeling like I need a drink,” Lorenzo mutters.

Right on cue, Dante saunters over. He’s dressed in a pair of fishnet stockings and red booty shorts tonight, and nothing else. A silver barbell in each of his nipples and a third through his belly button all glint under the glow of the club lights.

“I heard drinks. What do you thirsty boys need?” He puts a hand on the back of Alessio’s chair while he takes our drink orders, and I notice Sal’s gaze lingering on it the whole time.

“I’ll take another too,” Salvatore says, holding up his now empty glass.

“Nope,” Dante says.

“I’m sorry, what?” Sal glances around the table, like he’s trying to make sure we all heard what he did.

“That’s your third drink already. I’ll bring you water, but that’s all you’re getting.” There’s an unmistakable edge of authority in Dante’s voice that has almost all of us shifting in our seats.

It’s hard to tell in this lighting, but I’m pretty sure Sal is blushing too. He opens and closes his mouth like a fish for a few seconds before finding his voice.

“Are you serious? You’re not going to bring me a drink? I’m not even drunk. Breathalyze me if you want to.”

Dante slides his hand off of Alessio’s chair. He puts both of them on the table between him and Sal, and leans in.

“Fine. It’s not about how many you’ve already had. You cost me five hundred bucks last night when you chased off that guy who got handsy, and I feel like teaching you a lesson. Be glad it’s only your booze that I’m cutting off.” He smirks through the entire threat, then pushes himself upright again, leaving all of us in stunned silence as he saunters away to get everyone else’s drink.

“He scares me,” Alessio admits quietly.

“Me too,” Salvatore agrees, but his voice sounds a hell of a lot more awed than scared if you ask me.

Lorenzo clears his throat. “What are we going to do about Casimir?” Right through the bullshit and straight to the point. That’s why he’s in charge.

“A bullet between the eyes is always effective,” Xaviaro suggests casually.

“Except we don’t actually know what he’s done yet,” I remind him.

Sparrow’s shoulders twitch with a lazy shrug. “If he’s killing people to keep them quiet, you can bet it’s bad.”

“We don’t know Casimir killed Jimmy,” Orion points out.

“And it’s not just about a fair punishment or not,” Enzo adds. “If we don’t know what he’s up to, killing him might just mean we’re taking out a middleman.”

“Is there any other information we can dig up on him digitally? You got the bank records; you can’t get anything else?” I ask Sparrow.

“I’ve tried, but it’s beyond my skill level. His emails are encrypted, his cybersecurity is top notch. Whatever he’s doing, he’s covering his ass.”

The sound of another throat clearing draws everyone’s attention. Dante is back with a tray of drinks. His head is held high, but a glint of nerves in his eyes piques my interest.

“You know something about hacking, angioletto ?” Salvatore asks, picking up on the same thing I am.

Dante sets each of the drinks down one by one, keeping us all in suspense waiting for his answer.

“I learned some tricks from my former cellie. I could take a look at whatever it is you’re trying to decrypt.”

“Cellie? As in…” Sparrow leans forward with interest.

“Prison, pretty boy,” he confirms.

I trade a look across the table with Enzo. It’s not like we’re asking him to take a look at our books. Whatever Casimir is hiding has fuck all to do with Moretti business besides the unfortunate fact that it’s going on in our city, right under our noses.

“It couldn’t hurt to let him look at it, right? Worst case, we’re no better off than we are right now, and we just have to go in blind to beat some answers out of him.”

Lorenzo drums his fingers on the table once, his face impassive as he considers it, no doubt running the same balance sheet through in his head that I just did. Worst case, we end up losing the most popular dancer at Wild to a plastic bag at the bottom of the ravine. Enzo nods, then looks back at Dante.

“When you get off shift tonight, Salvatore will pick you up and fill you in on what you’ll need to know.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for Sparrow to…” Alessio starts to argue, trailing off when he sees the flat, bored look on my brother’s face. The boss has spoken.

Enzo ignores Alessio’s comment and adds one more addendum to the order he’s giving Dante. “Depending on what you find, Salvatore may keep you close until we’ve dealt with the problem to ensure you don’t go running your mouth all around town before we can handle things.”

Dante hesitates for a second, looking across the table at Sal again. “Yeah, alright. We’ll talk about my hourly fee when you pick me up.” He smirks and leaves us alone again.

With that settled, the meeting wraps up quickly. A few other odds and ends, and then Enzo shoos us all away, giving me a meaningful look that I’m sure has to do with the fact that I didn’t bother to tell him about Orion until tonight.

“Enz,” I start to say as the other guys file past me, Orion’s presence heavy at my back.

“We’ll talk later. Your boyfriend is waiting.” He jerks his chin. Even I don’t have the balls to argue with a direct dismissal from him.

“Well, that was an anticlimactic night.” I slip my hand into Orion’s as we make our way out of the club again.

He chuckles in agreement. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

“Where did you have in mind, Boss?” I ask, and a slow smile spreads over his lips.