31. Matteo

31

MATTEO

S itting in the large VIP section, Matteo nodded to the shirtless young man wearing only a pair of tight black shorts and a matching bowtie. The server acknowledged his boss's request, then picked up the bottle of expensive champagne and began masterfully filling each of the crystal glasses set out on the tray.

Bubbles floated to the top of each glass as the gorgeous muscle boy poured each with perfection. All of Matteo's employees, whether they were dancers, bartenders, servers, or hostesses, were the human embodiment of sex and fantasy. In this server's case, it was his disarming smile and perfectly chiseled chest that often made men weak in the knees.

"Thank you, Stefan," Matteo praised, giving the boy a subtle nod as he reached for two of the filled glasses. He began passing them around to his new group of friends, beginning with Ares's death squad , as he'd come to refer to them. These were one set of badass guys that one did not want on their bad side.

"Here you go, gentlemen," Matteo said, beginning with Ares's second in command, then moving along to the rest of his squad.

Most men nodded as they took their glasses, bodies sitting stiff, eyes focused solely on the glass in their hand. Perhaps it was a macho thing not to smile or show human emotions when expressing happiness or gratitude.

Then again, these guys were testosterone-fueled straight dudes suddenly finding themselves surrounded by half-naked men, playing with their erections and not a tittie in sight. How else were they supposed to react?

Matteo tried not to laugh.

Poor guys. At least they were being good sports about all this. Deep down, he knew that these men were not homophobic. Ares would never stand for that sort of behavior on his squad. The guys just didn't know what to do with themselves, this probably being their first time setting foot inside a male sex club.

Next, Matteo turned to Ares's friends from New Jersey—the O'Brien crew—who, Matteo had learned, was an Irish criminal organization that dealt mostly in drugs and gun trafficking. They also owned a few strip clubs, pubs, and other establishments that Matteo was pretty sure were being used to launder their money. It turned out that the O'Brien crew and Ares had a long-standing friendship that spanned decades. It was great to see that there was still loyalty amongst criminals.

Next, Matteo passed drinks to Marc and Alex—Chase's bosses and the guys who had originally been given the Book of Sin .

"Thanks," Alex chirped, giving Matteo that golden retriever smile that always put the room at ease and made everyone want to pet him on the head.

Finally, Matteo turned to his own gang of mismatched orphan boys. Some sat on their partner's laps, some sat on the arms of the couches, while others sat cross-legged on the floor chatting amongst themselves.

He loved this group of pains in the ass. They were his family. His sons. When he was in danger, they all came to his aid.

Actually, they all did. This hodgepodge of trained killers, Irish gang members, and team of exotic dancers.

Inside, Matteo's heart warmed. How had he gotten so lucky?

Then Matteo's eyes drifted to Ares, who was sitting patiently waiting for his turn to be served.

Staring into those big brown eyes, Matteo felt his heart expand. No matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise—even after all these years—he still loved the scary brute.

The man had brought a fucking army to save him. How could one not feel special?

Staring into those hopeful eyes, Matteo could see the kindness Ares tried to keep hidden behind his protective shields.

But actions speak louder than words. When Ares stumbled upon all those victims who also needed his help, he didn't hesitate dividing his resources and making sure that they were rescued as well—even if that meant charging in to rescue Matteo on his own.

That is the definition of a knight in shining armor.

What man does that?

Only a man who is madly in love.

When Matteo first learned of Ares's involvement in his parent's death, he felt angry and betrayed—wanting nothing more than to freeze Ares out and never speak to the man again.

But in the days that followed, he realized that the true cause of his pain was Massimo Zitti. Knowing that he was able to exact his revenge and get justice for both his parents helped to quell the anger being directed toward Ares.

In the end, Ares had been a victim in this charade as well. Matteo couldn't imagine the guilt that Ares must live with every day, knowing that because of his mistakes, two innocent people were killed.

No, Ares was not the man who Matteo should be mad at.

Smiling, Matteo passed Ares a glass of champagne. "Here. You've earned this."

"Careful, people are going to start to think that you like me," Ares said because, of course, he would.

Pulling back the glass, Matteo raised an eyebrow at the sarcastic bastard. "On second thought, should you really be drinking alcohol while you're on pain meds?" Matteo's eyes drifted to the bandaged foot Ares had stuffed inside a plastic boot. "I don't want to hinder your recovery."

Grabbing the champagne from Matteo's hand, Ares smirked.

"You're bad luck. Every time I'm around you, I always end up getting shot."

"Perhaps you should take that as an omen to stay away?" Matteo teased, giving Ares the tiniest hint of a smile.

"I'm a stubborn man. No god or mystic power is going to keep me away from what I want." Ares gave a wink before taking a sip of his champagne.

Damn. Who could resist sweetness like that?

Matteo's heart was doomed.

Shaking his head at the romantic idiot, Matteo raised his glass and turned to the group.

"I wanted to take a sec to personally thank all of you for everything that you have done for us these past few days. Putting your lives in danger to help rescue me and all those trafficked victims was truly a selfless act. Always remember that because of your actions, families were saved from a horrific nightmare. You are all true superheroes in my book."

"Even us?" Isaac asked, standing shirtless in nothing more than ripped jean shorts and a chain tied to his wallet. His lovely snake tattoo protectively guarding its master.

"Yes, even my team of deadly… dancers." Matteo hesitated for a moment, trying to search for the perfect word. None came.

"You mean deadly strippers guild? " Ares asked because… Ares had class.

Matteo threw him an annoyed look. "We'll find a more suitable name for my team of heroic professionals." Matteo turned and gave Isaac a wink. These boys really stepped up over the past few months, risking everything to save one another.

Following the capture of Massimo and Edwin, Ares made an anonymous call to the authorities, tipping them off to the trafficked victims. Once the call was complete, Matteo and crew quickly doused the facility in gasoline they found lying around and struck a match. Fire was always the best way to destroy any sort of evidence that might have been missed.

Most trafficked victims waited outside the facility for the authorities to arrive, while others chose to run off, not wanting the police involved in their lives.

Letting the victims choose for themselves, Matteo and the gang made a quick departure with Massimo and Edwin bound and gagged and stuffed in their trunks. They wanted to be able to dispense their own version of justice… and revenge without the interference of Italian law enforcement.

Then the big question—what to do with their two special guests.

Edwin was an easy decision. He would enjoy a couple of nights' stay at La Maison de M's exclusive and highly selective Dungeon de Maison Suite . During which, Matteo's old friend would be treated to a lovely one-on-one spa treatment provided by a certain Irish bloke who specializes in making people talk… or keep secrets. After a luxurious, intense three-day stay, Monsieur Edwin would be released on his own accord after, of course, being microchipped. Marc had created a nifty new device that transmitted a person's location as well as their voice to a designated server for observation—a.k.a listening and monitoring. Marc had been dying to try out his little invention, and it turned out that this was the perfect opportunity for a human trial.

Win. Win.

What to do with Massimo was another issue. Everyone knew that they couldn't just let him go. For one, Matteo wanted that bastard dead and mutilated beyond recognition. The thought of feeding Massimo to Raj had initially crossed Matteo's mind, but then he began thinking about the consequences of having a highly well-known drug kingpin suddenly vanish. There would be… questions. People poking their noses around. Sniffing. Asking pain-in-the-ass shit that, quite frankly, Matteo didn't want to have to deal with.

So, murder by tiger was off the table.

But then brilliance smacked Matteo right in the face.

Death by plane crash.

Poetic, wasn't it?

Yes! That was the perfect solution. It would be very public, look like a tragic accident, and no one would come looking for his killers.

With the help of Marc, who was an excellent strategist, they planned, arranged, and executed the perfect accidental murder plane crash.

As it turned out, Ares knew a pilot who also loved skydiving. After paying the man an exorbitant amount of money, they loaded an unconscious Massimo into a private jet and watched as it took off, heading toward the Caribbean.

The news reported that the plane suffered a mechanical malfunction, causing it to fly directly into a mountain. The authorities found Massimo's body, and who they assumed was the pilot—but was, in actuality, a cadaver from a local university. They weren't monsters after all.

The pilot's body was burned beyond recognition, and his teeth had been removed, making it very difficult for the authorities to positively identify the body. In the end, they used the flight manifest to identify the pilot who, coincidentally, had no living relatives to ask questions.

Now, no one would be asking questions about Mr. Zitti's death or searching for his killers. Matteo's family would be safe, and the Zitti name would fall from existence.

Oh, and Ares had already reached out to Mrs. Zitti, letting her know that he was willing to make her a very hefty payment to take over her late husband's smuggling routes and contracts. Wasn't Ares so helpful? They had a meeting scheduled for next week to finalize the details.

Raising his glass once again, Matteo smiled.

"Enjoy yourself tonight. Drinks are on the house, and your rooms have already been set up for your stays this weekend."

As a thank you, Matteo offered to host the group at the chateau for the weekend. This would give them all a chance to relax, enjoy themselves, and get to know each other a bit better.

The group cheered and downed their champagne. Ares's death squad finished theirs in one gulp—because apparently, that's what straight guys do when they hear "open bar." Others, like Matteo's boys and the Irish crew, sipped their champagne like they were making love to the liquid over hours instead of seconds.

Classy as always.

Matteo chuckled when a sea of empty glasses was suddenly held up following his toast. Stefan, the shirtless server, was at their side before Matteo could even turn his head. He seemed to take a particular interest in filling the glass of an angry-looking Russian dude with a perfectly squared jaw, piercing blue eyes, and arms that could pop the stuffing out of any medicine ball.

The Russian held out his glass as Stefan filled it almost to the brim. Not proper etiquette, but Matteo would allow it, considering the boy seemed distracted by the man's intense gaze. Judging by the thickness of the Russian's bulge, Matteo feared for Stefan's tight hole should he choose to provide any midnight entertainment.

Shaking his head, Matteo took a sip of his champagne and decided to make his way over to where Ares was chatting with Patrick.

Patrick was tall and insanely fit, with intense green eyes that could make a man come just from one of his stares. According to Ares, in addition to being the crew leader's right-hand man, Patrick also had a special talent for making unwilling men talk. Sometimes they walked away, missing only a few pieces of their body; sometimes they didn't walk away at all. Word on the street was that Patrick was really good at his job.

"Hello, gentlemen," Matteo greeted, raising his glass toward the two.

"I hear you've seduced my husband," Patrick noted, giving Matteo a sly grin.

Matteo paused for a moment, confused by the comment. Then he remembered.

"Yes, it appears that one of my boys, Levi, took a shine to your husband. Especially when he found out that the man used to do burlesque shows in Vegas. He somehow convinced your husband to perform with him on stage tonight." Matteo laughed.

"So long as nobody touches Levi tonight. Otherwise, some of your clients may be leaving with broken noses," Chase added, stepping up next to the three of them.

"Chase is Levi's overprotective boyfriend," Matteo clarified, gesturing toward the bulky man who had just joined them.

Patrick gave Chase a nod. "Yes, we've met before."

Matteo gave Chase a look. "Oh? You have? Another one of your many secrets, Chase?"

Chase blushed. "Patrick helped me with a personal matter a few months ago. Nothing that would fall back on you and your business, M."

Patrick stepped forward and wrapped his arm around Chase's shoulders. "And there's nothin' wrong with being overly protective of your guy. Anyone so much as looks at my guy the wrong way, they're gettin' a blade through the eye."

"You both realize that you're standing in a gentlemen's club where people come to watch guys get naked and flirt with them? That's how I make my money," Matteo noted, suddenly wondering if this little impromptu performance was such a good idea. Was he going to be cleaning up a room full of dead bodies once Levi and Sky stepped out on stage?

"That's not the only way you make your money," Ares quipped.

"Yeah, well, it's one of my favorite ways to make it. And I'd like to continue to make money off horny rich men, but if Cerberus and Cujo over here tear apart my clientele, I doubt I'll have many clients coming back."

Matteo eyed the hellhound and psychotic dog, wondering how many of his security men it would take to stop them if they chose to attack. Probably way more than he actually had. Patrick had that crazy "I'll kill you, then wear your skin" look in his eyes, while Chase had that "I'm too stubborn to stop punching you" gaze.

Why was it that testosterone-fueled men always felt the need to swing their dicks around when in a room filled with other protein-fueled men? It was like they loved comparing cock sizes and seeing whose dick was the biggest.

It was that overprotective, possessive attitude that always got Matteo's dick rock solid, especially when it was directed at him.

Glancing over at Ares, Matteo was caught by the heated gaze of his stare. If it were just the two of them in the room, Matteo was certain that Ares would have pushed him down on the couch and fucked his brains out. Seeing that hungry look in Ares's eyes made all the blood in Matteo's brain quickly rush south.

Fuck , his heart was in trouble.

Perhaps it was the expensive champagne or the bursting heat in his groin, but Matteo found himself returning Ares's heated stare.

Then the lights dimmed.

The massacre… umm, show was about to begin.

"Welcome esteemed patrons and honored guests. Tonight, we have an extra special guest performance for you all. One man you will recognize as your beautiful bartender—the sexy Vixen from past performances." The room erupted into cheers and whistles. "The other is a special guest performer visiting us all the way from the United States. He's a burlesque dancer who's performed countless shows in Las Vegas and New Jersey. Let's give a warm round of applause for Levi and Skyler!" the announcer shouted over the screams of the audience.

The room went wild. Matteo couldn't help but be filled with pride at the love and excitement shared by all those in the room for Levi. When Matteo first found Levi, he was nothing more than a timid runaway. Now, all these years later, Levi was a force of nature… a being who commanded the stage and brought men to their knees.

Listening to the cheers fill the theatre, Matteo smiled. These cheers were for Levi.

Down below, red smoke began to drift slowly over the stage while a sinful orchestra of music began to play.

Overhead, a large silver hoop began to lower.

Holding on to the exterior, with his legs crossed one over the other, a man wearing a silver G-string smiled as he made his descent down from the heavens.

The crowd cheered.

When the hoop came to a standstill, Skyler stepped out and placed his hands on his hips, striking a pose as only a sex goddess could. He stood in the center of the stage, the light shimmering off the dragon-scale shoulder pads that matched his choker and armbands.

Harnessing the power of the dark phoenix, Skyler raised his hand before breathing fire out into the audience.

The room gasped before exploding into applause.

"Holy fuck," Jared whispered, standing over Matteo's shoulder.

"I think I just shot my load," Isaac added.

Patrick let out a snort-chuckle.

"I get to go to bed with that sex god every night," Patrick teased.

Further up the stage, a man wearing a black biker's cap began to rise from the floor, posing with one arm raised above his head and the other resting gently on his waist as he met his audience.

Light sparkled off the strings of diamonds draped across Levi's bare chest, creating an almost mystical aura—fitting for another sex goddess.

Resting a few inches below his exposed belly button was a silver G-string matching the one worn by Skyler. Leave it to Levi to dress in the most fabulous yet sexy-as-fuck outfit ever.

All around them, the stage came to life as Skyler and Levi gave into their inner burlesque. Other dancers joined the duo on stage. Grinding and humping and giving sin and debauchery a sexy new name.

Fire raged, and music blared. It appeared that Patrick forgot to mention that his husband was a goddamn fire starter. In between flips on stage, Skyler danced with fire, throwing fireballs into the air to the adoring cheers of the crowd around him.

The crowd lost it. They whistled, they clapped, they threw money on stage.

"Damn, you need to keep your boy locked up," Chase whispered to Patrick.

Matteo swore he heard Patrick growl under his breath.

"A beauty like that can't be controlled or contained. The first time I met my little fire starter, he had me on my back with a gun to my head. I fell for that crazy boy that very same day."

Seeing the love in Patrick's eyes, Matteo couldn't help but steal a glance in Ares's direction.

Damn . Of course, the fucker was staring at him with heated eyes.

To be honest, there wasn't a time when Ares didn't look at Matteo with those loving, adoring eyes. Even when they were elbows deep in a heated argument, Ares never once stopped looking at him like he hung the fucking moon.

That was love right there.

Struggling to swallow the lump in his throat, Matteo's brain started to realize that it had lost the battle against hating Ares forever. His brain was beginning to join his heart and dick in the "Team Ares" camp, where all they wanted was to get pounded by the sexy brute and spend each morning staring into each other's eyes.

God, when did being in love get so… cheesy?

Eyes locked with Ares, Matteo grabbed an unopened bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and two champagne flutes, then nodded over his shoulder.

Ares's eyes went wide once he caught on to what Matteo was insinuating. Ares quickly gave an excited nod, inadvertently grabbing Chase and Patrick's attention.

Jesus, the man has no tact.

Chase and Patrick exchanged glances, trying their best not to laugh and draw more attention to the love-struck man-brute.

"Jesus," Matteo whispered under his breath. He ignored the two while leading the excited pit bull out of the theatre.

No one else seemed to notice their exit—at least, Matteo didn't think so.