Chapter 5

Antonio was a scary man. It was a different kind of scary to the creep who had tried to threaten Lyle at Balthazar Bar though. With the sleazy creep, Lyle could tell that he was a jumped-up street thug, a man who could use his physicality to intimidate others but beyond that he had very little.

Antonio was different.

Lyle found the scariest thing about Antonio to be just how calm and collected he was. As far as Lyle could tell, Antonio seemed like the kind of person who wouldn’t break out into the slightest sweat even if he was surrounded by a whole SWAT unit determined to gun him down for the tiniest false move.

A man with this kind of vibe was always going to be the true criminal mastermind. Lyle knew this much from the research he had been doing at the Tribune office. The city had a history of flash in the pan gangsters whose star shone brightly for five minutes before their inevitable greed or impulsiveness put an end to their story for good.

Antonio wasn’t this kind of gangster, that much seemed totally clear.

And because of this, Lyle knew that the sensible option in his situation would still have been to walk away and take his chances. After all, he could have gone to the police and reported what had happened. Or, he could have taken his chances and hoped that no one from Balthazar had cottoned on to who he was, other than Antonio of course.

But even though these seemed like sensible ways of interpreting what had happened, Lyle knew that there was a risk involved with both. What would the police do? Lyle could see a situation where they took down what Lyle had witnessed and then pretty much tossed it in the trash the second he walked out of the station.

Similarly, it didn’t matter if only one other mafia man in Balthazar had cottoned on to him being a journalist. It would only take one gangster to follow him home and end it all.

But as risky as both of these outcomes were… they still seemed safer than the one Lyle had chosen.

As he sat opposite Antonio in the back of the blacked-out SUV, Lyle took a moment to compose himself. After all, if this was the choice he had made then he really should be maximizing every second of it and picking up any useful details that he could find.

No fear. No fear. I’ve got this.

Stripes wouldn’t be scared.

He’d roar and growl at me to be brave too!

As the SUV cruised along the nighttime roads, Lyle felt like he wanted to speak. But he couldn’t get his words out. Instead, he tried to look over toward Antonio as subtly as he possibly could. This wasn’t easy. And it was made much, much harder by the fact that Antonio was simply beautiful to look at.

Lyle had a strong thing for older guys. An age gap wasn’t so much a problem for him as a major turn on. And if the older man just so happened to be an out and out silver fox then that was just the cherry on top of the cake.

Antonio’s masculine jawline, smartly cut hair, and his grey-blue eyes came up to one stunning package. Even his posture was sexy. The man knew how to hold himself, and Lyle could tell that appearances were important to Antonio.

But the scar on Antonio’s cheek? That just about sent Lyle into heaven. The hint of danger it projected sent a charge of electricity straight to Lyle’s special place. Despite Antonio’s obviously expensive suit and shiny black shoes, the scar told Lyle and the world that this was a man who wasn’t afraid of a fight.

With all this bubbling in his mind, Lyle knew that he had to go through with this. This wasn’t about his safety, or whether he was taking a risk or not. It was about getting a story and hopefully not only saving his job, but making a big leap up the journalism ladder too.

Lyle cast his mind back to journalism school. Having worked super-hard on his high school newspaper and then throwing everything into getting the grades to get into the best journalism school in the country, Lyle had been desperate to graduate top of the class.

But this hadn’t happened.

It was still a sore point for Lyle too. Sure, graduating second top was good, especially from such a good school. But it wasn’t first. And not only that, it was how it happened that still haunted Lyle.

Having been all set to graduate Magna Cum Laude, Lyle knew that if he could get one more big story then it would seal the deal. But instead of pursuing a risky option of exposing a drug scandal in the college football team, Lyle had bowed down to pressure from his senior lecturer and instead gone for a far safer story on rising tuition costs.

What this meant was that another student got the big drug expose scoop and with it took the top spot themselves. Lyle had been devastated. From that day, he became determined to never let the same thing happen again.

If there was a scoop, Lyle was going to get it.

No matter how risky, no matter the danger it could pose to his life, Lyle had sworn to never let fear or uncertainty stop him from being the best journalist he could be.

Agreeing to Antonio’s offer and landing a huge mafia story would be the way to banish his demons forever. And Lyle knew that if he could do that, he could be happy in the knowledge that his father would be proud of him too.

With this in mind, Lyle decided that it was time to start digging…

‘This car is nice,’ Lyle said, a smile on his face. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been in a car with heated seats before!’

Lyle waited for Antonio to respond. Instead, Antonio simply continued to stare straight ahead. Lyle didn’t know exactly why Antonio wasn’t responding to him, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him asking more questions…

‘So… what kind of work do you do, Antonio?’ Lyle asked, feeling safe in the knowledge that this question wouldn’t be answered either. ‘Do you go to Balthazar Bar often?

Antonio retained his stoic pose and continued to stare straight ahead. Lyle asked question after question, each time failing to get anything even remotely resembling an answer.

Gradually, Lyle felt himself getting frustrated. As a journalist, the only thing he loved more than asking questions was getting answers – and Antonio just wasn’t playing ball.

Eventually, something had to give…

‘Jesus! Just talk to me!’ Lyle said, stomping his feet on the luxurious SUV floor. ‘It’s rude to not answer someone when they ask you a question!’

‘Enough!’ Antonio barked, turning his head to look at Lyle. ‘You’ve got a lot to learn, boy. If someone doesn’t answer it could be for a myriad of reasons. Hell, it might even be because they’re waiting for the real questions to emerge…’

‘Huh?’ Lyle replied, taken aback by Antonio’s response.

‘You can ask me all the silly questions you like,’ Antonio said. ‘But don’t for one second think I don’t know what you truly want to ask me.’

Lyle was stunned into silence. Antonio knew that Lyle was trying to butter him up with some softball questions. Lyle felt his cheeks flush red with embarrassment. He didn’t appreciate it when interviewees saw through his journalistic line of questions.

Asshole.

Argh, I hate him.

Stupid mafia scumbag!

But after taking a moment to compose himself, Lyle figured he may as well get to the question he did in fact want to ask. After all, if Antonio was wise to his game then what was the point in dragging things out?

‘Are you… connected to the mafia?’ Lyle said, putting on his calmest voice. ‘And… are you some kind of boss?’

‘That’s better,’ Antonio said. ‘I’m still not going to answer, but I appreciate your honesty. Now, no more bratty behavior, or there’ll be trouble. Got it?’

Lyle bit his lip. He wanted to act out again, but Antonio was far to intimidating to push any further than Lyle already had. The rest of the journey back to Antonio’s place was going to be silent, at least if Lyle had anything to do with it.

‘This, boy, is a respectable neighborhood,’ Antonio said as the pair of them walked up the stone steps and into Antonio’s enormous townhouse. ‘So no shouting, acting out, or general asshole moves.’

Lyle took a look around before he stepped inside Antonio’s house. With its grand houses and tree lined streets, this was most definitely not the neighborhood that Lyle had expected to see Antonio living. This was an old money block, full of the kind of rich families who preferred to fly under the radar and simply live peaceful lives out of the spotlight.

Certainly, Lyle didn’t think that any of Antonio’s neighbors would be joining him for a drink or ten at Balthazar Bar any time soon.

‘Come on, it’s cold, let’s get inside,’ Antonio said, placing his hand around Lyle’s waist and guiding him inside.

‘Wow,’ Lyle said, forgetting that he was a professional journalist for a second and simply allowing himself to be awestruck by the grand hallway and array of expensive looking art that hung from the walls. ‘This is… super nice.’

‘You’ll be staying in the top-floor annex,’ Antonio said. ‘You can come into the main house when you need something. But I need my privacy. And this is a professional situation of course.’

‘Y-y-yes, Antonio,’ Lyle said, barely listening as he went from painting to painting, admiring the fine brush strokes and sheer splendor of the art on display.

‘That one is from Milan,’ Antonio said, walking over toward Lyle and admiring the painting of two horses, one large and one small, standing together on a stormy mountain clifftop. ‘No touching. In fact, no touching of any of the art.’

‘I know, I’m not a baby!’ Lyle said, irritated that Antonio would think so little of him.

‘Manners, boy,’ Antonio said. ‘You’re not going to have a very long career if you don’t know your place. Now, why don’t I make you a hot drink and you can take it up to your room.’

Lyle watched as Antonio walked through the large double doors that led through into the kitchen.

‘Follow me,’ Antonio barked.

Lyle did as he was told. There was something about the way that Antonio was talking to him that was making Lyle feel all funny. Was it possible that Antonio was a Dom? So much of the evidence was pointing that way. Lyle felt flustered all of a sudden.

If Antonio was a Dom, would Antonio try to spank him?

Would Antonio expect other things too?

Lyle knew what Antonio was, at least he thought he did. There was no way someone like Antonio could afford this house and the kind of art on display unless he was involved in some kind of criminal enterprise.

Sure, in theory Antonio could have been a secretive tech billionaire… but Lyle instinctively knew that this simply wasn’t even remotely likely. No, Antonio was involved in crime, and the mafia seemed the most likely avenue too.

But before Lyle could attempt any more mental gymnastics, his nose began to go into overdrive. Was Antonio making a… hot apple chai?

‘How did you know?’ Lyle said, walking into the kitchen and seeing Antonio adding some spices on top of a piping hot apple juice. ‘It’s my favorite.’

‘Call it instinct,’ Antonio said. ‘Subs… and I’m assuming my instinct is right about that too… enjoy being told what to do, and that includes refreshments. I saw you were drinking a non-alcoholic cocktail earlier. Anyway, what better than a late-night hot juice?’

Lyle nodded, suddenly feeling shy and a bit turned on too.

Antonio was commanding, intelligent, and handsome. And the fact that he made an on-point hot apple chai tea was enough to make Lyle get down on his knees and do some very naughty things indeed.

‘It’s deee-lish,’ Lyle said, the hot apple taste warming him up instantly. ‘Thank you, sir.’

Lyle blushed furiously. He had no idea where that had come from, but he knew that he had to change the subject as quickly as possible and hope that Antonio hadn’t been paying attention.

‘Do you like to cook? You’ve got a wonderful kitchen,’ Lyle said. ‘Your kitchen is probably the size of my whole living space at my shared house.’

‘I do enjoy it,’ Antonio said. ‘But life is… busy. I’m rarely home, truth be told. There’s always a situation that needs resolving. And in my line of work, I’m the man they come to when a problem needs solving.’

Was this a sign of progress? Antonio seemed to be a little bit more open. But rather than dive in with another question, Lyle decided to hold back. Antonio would talk more when he felt comfortable.

For now, it was all about enjoying the apple chai as far as Lyle was concerned. And if the company just so happened to be a devilishly handsome older man? Well that was just the spice on top of the juice…