Page 38 of Petrichor

It might look like I’m trying to help Fly, but Luca knows that’s not me. I’m a self-centered bastard. I can’t say I’ve ever cared about another person’s happiness. And my private space is fucking precious to me. Sharing it with someone is unheard of, and two weeks ago, I’d have said preposterous. But this way, I’ll keep a very meticulous eye on Fly and work him harder. More work means the debt will be paid quicker.

Bye, bye, Fly, welcome to my old life. I grit my teeth against the sudden feeling of wrongness.

I turn toward him when I don’t hear any reply and find everybody staring at me. Carlo frowning, Luca smirking, and Fly looking shocked. His mouth is open, and for once, nothing comes out.

“You won’t waste time commuting here,” Luca states, nodding my way. He seems to know what I’m doing. “And…just look around!”

Fly seems to shakes himself from his stupor. “Do I need to pay rent?”

Pfff. Like he could even afford it. “No. But your working hours will be longer. And you’ll leave when the debt is repaid,” I force myself to say.

“I’m going to ask Phil if I can wait at Rino’s in the evening. Will that be a problem?”

I narrow my eyes at him, not liking the connotations of what he said. “You have a debt to focus on for now. Nothing else,” I growl.

“How about my lingerie business, sir, would you oh-so-kindly stilllet me work on that?” he scoffs, sending platinum gray glares at me.

“Lingerie?” Carlo asks.

“Men’s lingerie,” Fly clarifies.

Luca’s eyes slide down Fly’s body, and I can clearly see what he’s thinking. I’ve had fucking enough.

I grab a hundred from my pants pocket and toss it on the coffee table. “Go buy some cigarettes.”

I give Fly a challenging look, to which he responds, “Not even waiting for my reply?”

“To?” I stub my cigarette in the ashtray and slowly and menacingly stalk toward him.

He doesn’t back down, I didn’t expect he would. Since he isn’t afraid of me. Right?

“To your suggestion.” He tilts his head up all the way back as I stop two feet from him. He barely reaches my shoulders.

“I don’t make suggestions. I give orders, and people follow. No exceptions. Is that clear, Butterfly?” I give him my most terrifying mask, the one that makes mob bosses take a step back when I show it to them. I’m truly fed up by Fly’s comebacks, my puzzling thoughts, this whole situation.

I feel like a drunk who thinks he’s acting totally normal, when in reality, he can’t even walk in a straight line.

“Crystal, sir.” The provoking way he always pronounces thesirmakes me prickle with anger and fucking anticipation. Fighters are the sweetest to break.

He leans toward me, his chest brushes over mine, and a whiff of that damn sweet scent wraps around me. His frosty, glaring eyesflicker between mine as he shifts to the side and grabs the money I threw on the table before he straightens up and takes a step back.

He’s acting differently. What is he up to?

“Do you need something?” he asks the others. “Mr. Moretti is paying.” The insolent shit lifts my hundred in the air.

“Oh, Fly, you’ve already done so much since you came into Marco’s life.” Luca is looking at me with sparkling eyes.

He just earned a hook to the chin and a hard one to the guts.

Fly

I’m leaving Marco’s building the next day when a car stops near the curb.

Marco is sitting in the back, Carlo in the driver’s seat, and Luca next to him in front.

“Where are you going?” Luca asks me. His voice has a gruff timbre, a roughness that reminds me of the night I met Marco.He was there for a short time. I remember hearing his voice while hiding under my father’s bed.

The scar on his face and his huge size scream danger. But there’s a teasing glint in his eyes, which disappears very easily as he turns silent and imposing. He and Marco go way back, their banter is surely a sign of familiarity. Art told me they were in the same school, and later were taken in by Don Massimo to give his son—now Don Sebastiano—his own crew. A very young crew.

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