1. Maddox

ONE

MADDOX

My loud breaths fill the room, interspersed by his grunts.

Anybody who walks by outside can probably hear us, no matter how desperately I'm trying to swallow all of my sounds. I can't really stop the shelf from rattling as he pounds into me, though.

The broom that's propped up on the wall next to me shakes every time I get pushed into the wall. It's going to tip over soon. I should say something, but I know that if I do, he'll stop, pull out, and leave me unsatisfied.

"Take it," Knives growls, slamming into me even harder. "You aren't too much of a coward for that, are you?"

I squeeze my eyes tight, trying to let the words slide off of me like water off a duck's back.

I always do, when it comes to him. I have to, if I'm going to get past his needling and snark and… well-deserved loathing.

Why do I do this to myself?

I shove back up against him, desperately pleading without words for him to keep going.

I need it.

I need him.

Knives digs his fingers even harder into my hips. I don't know if he's doing it on purpose, but I like that hint of pain.

If he knew I liked it, he'd probably stop that too, actually.

I squeeze my ass tighter and bite down on my lip at the next drag of his cock against my prostate.

Knives suddenly grabs the back of my neck and squeezes, sending another jolt of pleasure through me. "If you want to come, you'd better do it now. I'm not touching your cock."

I want to protest, but if I piss him off, he might come all over my shirt like he did the last time. I don't have time to find a spare shirt somewhere in the mansion.

I grab my own cock, pumping furiously as I try to bring myself closer to climax. I'm going to make a mess, but it's better than being denied.

I'm on the edge when I feel his thrusts turn erratic. His hand on my neck twists, threatening to grab me by the throat instead and constrict my breathing.

I wish he would, no matter how dumb that is.

I berate myself yet again for being so passive, so willing to take what he gives me without daring to ask for a single thing in turn. He uses me like I'm a cocksleeve, and I beg him for more with every choked-back cry and tremble of my body.

I should stop this. I should tell him no. I shouldn't let myself be trapped in fucking closets with him when I know perfectly well how it's going to go.

Knives lets out a low groan. I assume he's coming, and I wish we could do this without condoms.

That's stupid and impractical though. I should be glad he's using a condom. Clean-up would be hell otherwise, especially when we're short on time.

An ugly part of me whispers that it's probably a good idea because I don't know how many other men he's fucking. If he has these quick fucks with me, whom he hates with a passion, how many other casual one-night-stands does he have?

I wish the thought didn't make me so despondent.

My hand stills on my cock, my own orgasm a mere afterthought.

Knives pulls out with barely a grunt. My ass clenches around the emptiness.

I don't turn to watch him as he zips up his slacks. I hear the lid of the trashcan swing, then the closet door opens and shuts. He's gone without a single word.

He'd only spoken twice: once, to order me against the wall, then to tell me he wouldn't touch my cock. That might be better than the few times when he hadn't spoken to me at all during these trysts.

It's only been a few months since he joined the Cresci organization. At first, I'd almost thought he'd followed me there, but I know better.

Why would he purposely put himself in my life?

Our employer, openly gay mafia don Silvano Cresci, had to appeal to him, too. It's nice to be respected for what we can do and not be derided for who we are.

I've gone soft in only a few seconds, and I no longer have the urge to come. I tuck my cock away, adjust my pants and my shirt, and stare at the door to the closet while I collect myself.

One glance at my phone tells me I'm going to be late for my meeting if I don't hurry, though, and I curse before heading into the mansion's hallway. I used to get lost in the Cresci home, but I've learned my way to Silvano's office, at least.

When I get there, I'm right on time, and I breathe out slowly. I'd wanted to be early, but there had been Knives , and he's always clouded my better judgment.

I knock quietly on the door.

"Come in," Silvano says from the other side.

I shove my hand through my hair one more time before going in.

I stop short when I see that Knives is already in the room. I hadn't expected him; he normally works with Evan Griffin, Silvano's head of security. But Evan is here, too, along with Kyran Winters, Silvano's consigliere. The only one missing is Cristiano Fiore, Silvano's underboss, but this doesn't bode well.

"Boss," I say to Silvano, pretending I'm not put off by Knives's presence.

"Punctual, as I said," Silvano says, looking to Kyran with a smile.

Kyran, who's considerably bigger than Silvano, rolls his eyes. " Barely ." He glares at me. "Don't keep Silvano waiting again."

He's not someone I want to piss off, even though Silvano is the real boss.

My cheeks flush. "I'll be early next time," I promise, trying not to seem too desperate to please but failing miserably.

Fucking Knives.

I sneak a peek at him. He doesn't look like he'd just been fucking someone. His black hair is pristine, his beard is well-groomed, and his clothes look perfectly in order.

Me, on the other hand? I should've taken a moment to gather myself in the bathroom, but I would've been late.

"Since we're all here now, we can get started." Silvano taps his fingers on his desk, a habit I've noticed. It's like he can't handle not doing something with his hands. He's always fidgeting with them, twirling pens or paper clips or rummaging around his desk. "I'm sure we all have better things to do than sit in meetings."

"Do you?" Evan asks with a smirk. "I think sitting in meetings is the only thing you do, S."

The banter is familiar, at least, and I try to relax. Whatever is going on, it's not so serious that Evan's lost his humor.

"Well, everybody else has better things to do, then." Silvano looks over to me. "Regardless. We're going to talk about the missing weapons shipment. The ones that somehow keep losing their way from Mexico to New Bristol."

Knives grimaces, but he doesn't say anything.

He's probably wondering what he's doing here since he does security. He isn't in charge of any of the Cresci Family's day-to-day operations. We're both working our way up the ladder, and while he might guard Silvano and his men with his life, I'm higher up in the organization.

I'm a capo who's more than earned his position, even if I feel uncertain about my place. I'm constantly looking to Silvano for approval, and I even look to Kyran, for all that he can be a surly bastard.

Maybe Silvano needs to put out more to even out Kyran's mood.

"There was a GPS tracker on the most recent shipment," I report. "The last known location of the shipment was in New Valence before the tracker stopped functioning. As far as I know, there hasn't been any report of law enforcement activity, and we don't have any enemies there, right?"

"New Valence," Kyran says, incredulous. "Like Louisiana New Valence? Like all the way across the fucking country? How the fuck does something get lost there?"

I grimace, my shoulders slumping as I stare down at the floor. "Our men were giving regular updates," I say quietly, feeling defeated.

"It is a rather large mistake," Silvano says in a moderate tone. He doesn't sound angry, but I feel the accusation cut into me.

"I'm sorry, sir," I say, standing up straighter. "I'll fix it."

"You will," Silvano agrees. His smile is darker, less friendly. "Because I can't trust you with other business if things like this keep happening."

I swallow hard. My cheeks are burning, and all I can hear is his disappointment.

It's not familiar from Silvano. I'm used to doing a good job. The last thing I need is to get demoted because I was careless. I shouldn't have trusted the men to give updates when this had already happened once before. I should've gone down there and supervised this shipment. I should've done so many other things.

Now I realize I have no idea what to do.

I clear my throat. "I'll talk to the men. I'll figure out what happened." I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry," I say again.

"This is all nice and all," Evan interrupts, "But why are Knives and I here?"

"You're here because you're my bodyguard," Silvano says. His eyes flicker over to Knives. "And Knives is here because he's going to help Maddox with this task."

I go still. I don't dare look at Knives. I don't want to see the disgust on his features. I don't want to see him balk.

I know better than to argue with Silvano, though. He's not going to send Evan with me even though I'd dearly prefer him, and I guess the others already have their assignments. "Yes, sir," I say, trying for nonchalant but pretty sure I fail miserably.

Maybe if I hadn't fucked up so badly, I could try to get someone else assigned to me, but I'm on thin ice. I can't challenge Silvano on this.

"What? Why?" Knives stands up straighter. "Sir, I don't do… all of that stuff."

Silvano fixes his gaze on Knives. "You do whatever I tell you to do, Knives. Everything I know about this situation leads me to believe there's some form of sabotage happening. I don't want to waste more men than I need to on this. Maddox is familiar with the situation and knows the ins-and-outs of our weapons business, and you're very competent at protection and are frankly wasted as a guard here. You can do something more useful."

Knives scowls and clenches his fists, but he's just as aware as I am that talking back to Silvano would be a bad idea.

Kyran's threatening presence right behind Silvano is only one of the reasons to obey.

Evan looks between us and smirks. He knows something's up.

They all do.

This feels like a particularly honed dagger to the heart, like this is Silvano's way of saying "set your shit aside and get things done."

It's a test, and I realize I resent him for it.

I'm not going to show it, though.

I straighten. "Yes, boss," I say. "I have a few leads I can follow here, and…" I trail off, shaking my head. Silvano doesn't want to hear about the steps I'm going to take to resolve this. He just wants a solution. "I'll handle it."

"Yes, boss," Knives echoes. "I'll see what I can dig up too."

Silvano rests his chin against his hand. "I'm sure my two up-and-coming stars will do a wonderful job. I should make it clear that I'm extremely busy, and the only time I want to hear from the two of you again is once there is a concrete plan in place or you've recovered the shipments. I do not give a single fuck about any other issues. Understood?"

Up-and-coming stars. Ha. I don't feel like a rising star right now. I feel like an asteroid headed into the stratosphere, about to explode into millions of tiny pieces.

"Yes, boss," I repeat. "I'll have a report for you by the end of tomorrow."

I hope.

Knives nods curtly. "Maybe we can track sales of weapons. If somebody is selling our goods?—"

Silvano waves his hand dismissively. "I don't care. Figure it out, then get back to me." He looks between me and Knives. "That's all. Get out of here before Cristiano and Fox arrive for my meeting with them, since the only thing I do all day is meetings."

"You've got a meeting with Mancini later today, don't you?" Evan points out. "Unless you had me scope out that venue for no reason."

Knives and I are clearly no longer welcome. We both head for the door, and Knives growls when we almost bump into each other.

I flinch away from him, but I can almost feel the heat of his body against mine, the memory of him shoving me against the wall to fuck me hard in the forefront of my mind.

I wish we hadn't already fucked. I wish we could do it now and get some of these thoughts out of my brain.

"Sorry," I mutter, letting him go ahead of me. I close the door behind me, and when he goes to walk off, I start to reach out, then I catch myself. "Hey. We need to work on this," I remind him.

Knives stops to glare at me. "We'll work on it. I'm not going to fail the boss. But that doesn't mean I need to be in the same room as you."

"Be professional," I hiss. "We need to come up with a strategy. You heard him. We have to work together."

I know you hate me , I want to say. But just give me a chance, Nayeem. I'm not just a piece of ass to hate-fuck. I'm not just a failure.

"Professional," Knives says derisively. "If I could trust you not to stab me in the back, sure." He makes a disgusted noise. "Whatever. Do your thing. I'll research on my own. We'll discuss this in a few days."

"You trust me enough to fuck me inside the supply closet," I hiss at him.

"Yeah, with your back to me," he retorts.

"I am not a backstabber!" I say, wounded by the words even though I know he isn't entirely wrong.

I keep wanting him to forgive me, but I know better. If I'd been in jail for a decade because of someone, I probably wouldn't be too quick to forgive them either.

Knives looks like he's going to say something, but he cuts himself off as Cristiano Fiore and "Fox" round the corner.

I'm still not sure I know who Fox really is, or what he does here, other than occasionally shoot people.

"Don't stop whisper-fighting on our account," Fox says cheerfully. "I'm dying to know who's backstabbing whom."

"No one is backstabbing anyone," I say, but my tone is subdued as I look between him and Cristiano. Shame washes over me. I can't believe Knives and I got caught fighting in the hallway like third-graders. "Sorry. I'm going."

Cristiano looks between the two of us, shaking his head. "Get this shit sorted out," he says. "Before Silvano makes you."

I let out a choked little laugh. "Yeah."

"There's nothing to sort," Knives interrupts coldly. "I'm going to do my job now." He shoulder-checks me as he walks off.

We all watch his retreating form. Once he's gone, Fox says, "Geez. And I thought I was immature."

"You are," Cristiano says calmly. He opens the door to Silvano's office, grabbing Fox by the back of the neck and shoving him into the office with as much grace as Knives had shown me earlier.

Fuck.

I have no idea how I'm going to put things right with Silvano if Knives won't even work with me at all.

I am so screwed.