Page 42 of A Life Chosen

Mathias blew smoke through his teeth. “My father worked for the family all his life. And he never moved beyond his station. Was never good enough for a title.”

Their drinks arrived.

“He must have been proud. His son, asantista.”

Mathias smiled, but his eyes hardened. “The man couldn’t have cared less. In his infinite wisdom, he’d have preferred I do something else.”

Rayan felt the hurt he refused to show, his own bitterness softening. “He said that?”

“As he lay dying.”

They sat in silence, his capo swilling his drink.

“Do you regret it?” Mathias asked, lowering his voice. “Not walking away back then? Now you have blood on your hands.”

There was a familiar clench in Rayan’s gut, and for a moment, he couldn’t keep his face from betraying how close the question landed.

“There it is—I remember that look,” Mathias said, as though confirming his own suspicions. “You’re not made for this life, Rayan. I don’t know why you’re so intent on getting in even deeper.”

“Is that why you’re leaving me here?”

Mathias said nothing, his eyes shuttering.

“And you’re wrong,” Rayan said coldly. “I chose this.”

“Why?”

His mouth went dry, unable to speak the truth aloud—that after meeting Mathias again at the Collections office, his bearings had recalibrated, placing the man front and center.

“I never pretended to have options. I know how to survive,” he said at last.

“When you’re done surviving, what then?”

Rayan stopped short. It was as though Mathias had seen right through him. “Now that your father’s dead, what’s left to prove?”

Mathias stared at him. Rayan felt a sting of remorse, remembering how shaken Mathias had been as they left the hospital. Then his capo snickered.

“You asked why I joined, not why I stayed.” Mathias threw back his drink, pulled out his wallet, and dropped several notes onto the table between them. He stood, buttoning his jacket. Then he looked at Rayan. “You coming?”

Mathias led him into the apartment without a word. Rayan walked past him to the living room, which had been restored to its former glory. The smashed cabinet was gone, the shelves removed, and the glass swept. Mathias stood in the hallway, watching him.

“Will you miss this place?” Rayan said.

Mathias shrugged. “It’ll be here when I get back.”

“So you are coming back?” he asked cautiously.

Mathias smirked. “Would you like that?”

“What does it matter?” Rayan glared. “You’ll find a new second, I’ll be assigned another capo, and this will all be a footnote.”

“Maybe.”

Rayan felt his anger flare, mixed with a heady desire. Being this close to Mathias, in his orbit, scrambled his frequencies. Mathias stepped forward, his hand sliding along Rayan’s jaw and lifting his chin.

“Maybe not,” he murmured.

Then the man’s lips were on him, the smoky taste on his tongue. Rayan knew what he would miss. They stumbled through the hallway toward the bedroom, hands tangled in clothes, tearing at one another, unable to wait a moment longer. Mathias threw Rayan down on the bed, tugging off his shirt. Rayan sat up and rolled Mathias over so that he was beneath him. Mathias pulled his face down, kissinghim roughly. With his other hand, he thumbed open the button of Rayan’s slacks, unzipping him. The pressure of Mathias’s fingers working against his cock made Rayan lose focus, and his capo took the opportunity to flip him onto his back, yanking off his pants. Rayan wrenched at the buttons on Mathias’s shirt as the man ground his hips between his legs, eliciting a deep groan.

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