“How do you know?” I couldn’t help asking.
“We check his search history regularly,” Felix answered with zero guilt.
“Then what did you think he was doing at the club? Or what us leaving together might mean?”
“We didn’t know and didn’t want to pry when you looked so cozy, and I was a little out of it.” Felix waved a hand in the air as if indicating the whole situation. “But then he didn’t come home, and you called, saying he tried to kill you.”
“Basil lives with you?” I did my own prying, ignoring the last statement.
“No, he lived with Stefan on school breaks, but now he is with Gregor.”
My blood grew hot thinking of Basil living with either of the blonds, even though the older man had at least ten years on me. Jealousy was a rare emotion for me, and I knew it was misplaced.
“If he is with Gregor,” I spoke through gritted teeth, “why do you think he isn’t gay?”
“Mostly his statement about being queer and Bratva. That it is unacceptable,” Felix shrugged.
“You let him say this to you?” I was angry for Felix, having an underling say such things.
Felix waved it off. “That was before, when he lived with Ivanna, and I was in the closet.”
“Ivanna,” I growled, remembering Basil’s mention of a woman in his family. I’d guessed it to be her when I told him about her killing my cousin. “She put the idea to kill an enemy–specifically me–into the boy’s head.”
“Yebat',” Felix spat on the ground. “Of course, it was Ivanna. She is a poison. I thought we had cut off her contact with Vasily, but I was too lax with him in the past year while he finished his masters.”
The boy had a master's degree. I wasn’t totally shocked, as he’d shown his intelligence. He just lacked some common sense. I could help with that, at least a little. “Where do we go from here?”
“Don’t worry about Ivanna. Bratva leadership lets me do what I want here, since I’m not a player in world affairs, but she did this under their watch.” Felix grinned in a dangerous way that reminded me of his Kot Felix reputation. “I doubt she will be able to speak or type a word again.”
“I still want to keep Basil–Vasily–for the agreed-on time.”
Felix met my eyes and seemed to be measuring me. An odd feeling at twice their age and a foot taller. “Do you promise that you are not committing any war crimes?”
Thinking over our experiences, I didn’t think I was. “The boy may not have looked up gay porn or random kinks, but I guarantee you he is exploring them now.”
Felix started walking us back around the corner to our waiting cars, the sun starting to get low in the summer sky behind his head. “Consensually?”
“At first, yes. He came up to me and asked to come home with me. It was mutually beneficial. After he tried to kill me, not so much, though I never forced myself on him, if that’s what you’re asking. But now…” I licked my lips and stopped us before we got close enough for our men to hear. “He’s coming out of that closet you were in, I think.”
“No permanent damage,” Felix reminded me, and held out his hand. “Gregor will pick the boy up the morning after next, then.”
We shook and went our separate ways. Back in the car, Santo eyed me in the mirror again. I was sure he had his suspicions, especially after knowing we had been fooling around in the car on the way home from the club and seeing some of my recent purchases. But he wouldn’t ever ask for specifics.
“All worked out, Don Giorgio?”
“Yes,” I smiled, knowing what I had waiting at home across the city. “We have our guest for two more nights, and the Russians are in agreement.”
“Very well, sir.”
Basil had already eaten when I found him propped in the bed with a remote in hand. There was nothing broken or out of the ordinary, so at least he hadn’t thrown a tantrum.
“Hello, Basil,” I greeted him, stepping out of my shoes and taking off my coat.
“You’re home!” He rushed to turn off the TV and scrambled off the bed, his cage covered genitals swaying heavily as he barreled toward me. Basil had just enough chain to reach me for a hug, which I accepted despite my surprise.
“Sì, ragazzo mio,” I hugged him back and rocked us side to side. I felt wonderful to be greeted by such a warm welcome. Calling him my little boy had rolled off my tongue like it was natural for him to greet me this way. I’d only been speaking to Santo in Italian, and I didn’t seem to remember needing to switch back to English. “Sono a casa.”
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
