Son of the Devil

Chapter Twenty-Six: High Stakes, High Floors

Before dawn, Enzo stirred awake. It was still pitch dark as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Lucio was already gone from the bed. Sitting up, he scanned the room. Memories of their lovemaking last night rushed back to him and he smiled. Suddenly, faint voices reached his ears from the adjacent room. Lucio's bedroom was expansive with many areas to explore, including a full dressing room twice the size of Enzo's bedroom at his sister's house. Clutching the blanket around him until he looked like a walking apparition, he peered towards the slightly open door, straining to hear Lucio's murmured words.

"The old woman agreed to pass the control on half of the family assets," Lucio said. "As soon as I'm wed, you take over the southern dealings and get rid of his friends. I'll take care of him. Make it look like an accident and make sure no police will snoop around. Call Emilia, tell her, it will be done."

Enzo's heart started beating fast and his head began pulsating at what he heard. So, it was confirmed---Lucio knew his ex-fiancée and he did choose him because of Emilia. But who was Emilia in his life? Not only that...she was also involved with Vito. The three of them...

But the thing that pained him the most and the questions that lingered in his thoughts was---what did he do to deserve this?

As far as he was concerned, he was the one cheated on. Enzo remembered Emilia confessing her love for someone else, claiming their relationship was never real. Realizing he had unwittingly placed his friends in danger and became a pawn in a power struggle between people he believed he knew, he felt deceived. Betrayed. Come to think of it...what did he know about Lucio? Nothing. Lucio had always seemed mysterious, his true self hidden behind layers of masks that made it impossible to discern the actual man beneath.

When he arrived, lost and uncertain, Lucio had been there to guide him, providing comfort during his moments of confusion. Yet now, overwhelmed with regret, tears filled his eyes. Had their passionate connection over the past few days meant nothing to Lucio? He had truly believed it did. And damn it if he seemed a hypocrite now...but he couldn't deny that a part of him wished for the genuine kindness and occasional generosity Lucio had shown to endure. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, it was his existence that could influence Lucio's decisions about their future.

A leopard doesn't change its spots...

Those words echoed in his mind, a saying his father often used. However, his father's actions contradicted this sentiment. Once, he had asked Enzo, "What does empathy mean to you?" and chuckled when Enzo couldn't answer. "Never expect too much from people," his father had advised. "You'll be surprised by how they can change when not asked."

As Lucio concluded the rest of the conversation, Enzo wiped his tears, quickly lay back down on the bed, and closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep. He waited anxiously for Lucio to make his way back to the bed. Enzo could tell that he was being gentle as he settled himself beside him, careful not to wake him.

Was it odd that in spite of what he heard; he was still filled with desire for him all over again?

He couldn't resist snuggling up closer to him, delighting once more in the wonderful heat of him. As though he understood what it was, he was demanding, Lucio's arms came around him, strong and gentle, and Enzo felt his body yearning for him.

Yet, as he marveled over how wonderful it all was; that he could reach for Lucio and Lucio would actually pull him to his side, or that Enzo could want him and he would respond. He knew this was all a lie. This man was a joker and he---well, he was a clown.

Lucio's arms tightened around him when he felt him shiver and heard his tiny sobs. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head but the tears won't stop falling. Lucio forcefully turned his face into his chest, where Enzo could hear his heart drumming steadily. When Enzo tipped his head up toward Lucio's face in a perfect accord, their eyes met. Lucio not understanding the tears, bent his head toward him and touched his lips with his. To Enzo, that response masking the deceit was so incredible and exquisite and esteemed that it was almost painful to endure. He prayed the allure and thrill of it would fade just a little before he lost his sanity. Though their kiss was lazy and affectionate, it quickly grew more fervent. Pressed up so close to Lucio in all his naked glory, he could feel him growing hard against him. As he slipped his hand down inside the band in Lucio's boxer shorts, he grasped his growing hardness, stroking him all the while.