The other men laughed as I locked eyes with the only decent soldier among them. Angelo remained stoic and silent, refusing to join in the disrespectful talk about women who were well above their station. Most soldiers were idiots, only thinking with their cocks or their guns. But not Angelo. That’s why we got on. I rolled my eyes, shook my head, and took a long drag of my cigarette.
“What’s the matter, Rossetti? Just because you enjoy sucking dicks doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t talk about pussy,” Renato jeered as he turned and whacked Cosi’s shoulder.Ah, there we go—the homophobic slander.
“Yeah, you’re right. I thought it was only us gays who enjoyed gossiping, but you two little bitches are proving the stereotypes wrong.”
Renato grabbed me by the shirt, yanking me into him as he spat in my face. “Want to say that to my fucking face?”
“I thought I just did.” I smirked, brushing my nose against the tip of his. “You enjoy being this close to me? I’ve noticed the way you check me out, Renato.”
His face twisted with disgust, as if I’d just wafted shit under his nose, and he shoved me away. I chuckled, raising my cigarette for another drag.
“Stai lontano da me, capito?”he sneered. “Or I’ll fuck you up, Rossetti.”
“Can if you want…” I winked, which made his fist clench, ready to send it flying into my face. My underground fighting days were over, so I never started a fight, but I’d sure as hell finish one. Angelo stepped in, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and pulling him back. The three of them walked back towards the Buccini mansion, Renato muttering under his breath some more obnoxious bullshit about this being whymy kindshouldn’t be allowed in the mafia.
I took another long drag and tilted my head back to stare up at the starless sky. I missed home. I missed the South and its beautiful stars. The people were mostly the same, though. Being unapologetically gay and in the mafia was nearly unheard of and for good reason. I’d dealt with my fair share of Renatos over the years. Most were far worse.
A sob pierced the silence. My gaze fell on the hunched boy by the stone wall, who still hadn’t moved. His shoulders trembled as another anguished sob broke free. I should have walked away, gone back indoors, and resumed my role as Elenora’s bodyguard, but something about seeing someone so utterly helpless always stirred the softer, buried part of me. Growingup on the streets and in the underground, I’d been that boy countless times. The one who had just experienced or witnessed something traumatising and was left to handle the aftermath alone. I learned the hard way that surviving in this world meant you had to toughen the fuck up and quickly. So, I learned to stick my middle finger up at everyone. I only gave a shit about two people in my life: Alessio, my best mate, and Elenora, the mafia princess I had sworn to protect.
“Cazzo,” I whispered, before approaching the teenager. I held out my pack of cigarettes. “Want one?”
He flinched at my voice.Cristo,this was the future of the Aiani family? They really were screwed. He’d be torn apart by the wolves. He probably wouldn’t make it through the first few months as Boss before someone realised how weak he was and killed him for the position. Tragic, really. The poor kid was sitting next to hispadreat his first-ever alliance meeting, and in the next moment, hispadre’sbrains were in his lap, and he was the new Boss of the third-largest mafia family in the North.
His head finally lifted, and bloodshot eyes met mine through the darkness. Jesus. They were the bluest eyes, like sapphires shining in a pool of blood.
“I don’t smoke,” he mumbled, but then seemed to change his mind. His arm shot out, and he pulled one from the pack. “But maybe I should start.”
He placed it between two beautifully full, trembling lips and stared up at me expectantly. He was the prettiest son of a bitch I’d ever seen. I stared almost trance-like as I studied him for the first time. He was older than I initially thought—at least eighteen. Legal.Cristo, I needed to get my mind out of the gutter. His world had just come crashing down around him, and there I was swooning over his floppy blonde hair, golden skin, and aqua eyes.
I took a step closer and held my lighter up to his cigarette, causing the flame to illuminate his sharp cheekbones. I could have given him the lighter, but I was a flirt, and even when the situation called for boundaries, I still couldn’t change my ways.
He held my gaze as he took his first inhale. I felt that look resonate all the way to my dick.
He spluttered and coughed uncontrollably, dropping the cigarette and turning to vomit over the stone wall. I shuffled awkwardly, rubbing my forehead as I debated whether to leave him or stand there like a freak, watching him throw up his guts. The latter won out as I took another drag of my own.
“I can’t do this.”
“Smoking isn’t for everyone.”
He turned around and sat back on the wall, his hands trembling as he ran them through his soft hair.
“I can’t be a Boss. I–I’m not ready for this.”
“Is anyone ever ready?” I shrugged as he closed his eyes, battling another wave of nausea.
I threw my cigarette away and folded my arms over my chest while I stared at him. He looked so broken. I knew I shouldn’t give a shit, but an unexpected protectiveness and the urge to comfort him swelled in my chest. Mypadredied when I was young, so I didn’t really remember what it felt like to lose one, but witnessing hispadre’s murder in cold blood—that would mess anyone up.
“Look. Enzo, isn’t it?”
“Rossetti!”
I glanced over my shoulder towards the steps of the Buccini mansion to see Giovanni, the underboss of the Buccini family and the man who had hired me to protect his sister, commanding me over with his authoritative stance and dark gaze. I moved quickly, skipping up the stairs towards him as his eyes narrowed at the Aiani heir behind me.
“Boss?” I replied, prepared to do whatever he asked. That’s how this worked. He would say ‘Jump’ and I would ask ‘How high?’
As much as I respected Giovanni, my loyalty was an act. It wasn’t with the North but with the South. With my real boss, Alessio Barbieri. He sent me here undercover seven years ago to infiltrate the Buccini residence and become Elenora’s bodyguard. I didn’t ask questions. I’d do anything for that man after he saved my life and took me off the streets.
“The body?” Giovanni asked, his eyes still latched onto the young man behind.
