Page 78 of Petrichor

I forcibly stub the cigarette inside the ashtray and light a new one straight away.

“Do you remember what my father use to say?” Seb suddenly asks.

“Strong men are not born. They are made by the storms they getthrough,” I recite Don Massimo’s favorite saying. He was a real mafioso.

“Ten years ago, you got through it. Now act accordingly.” I don’t deign to respond to Seb’s too-accurate assessment.

“When he surely professed his innocence, did you believe him?” Luca asks me. What a gigantic, persistentstronzo. I ignore him.

“Look. The truth is rarely pure, and never simple,” he adds. Ain’tthatthe fucking truth.

“He could have stabbed me just like Delia did, but instead he…told me he loved me.” I breathe out, letting myself fall on the sofa.

“Do you need him?” It’s Seb’s turn to question me.

Need not love. But yes I do both. I nod as I look up at the ceiling, feeling his acute eyes studying my face.

“I tried to bribe Mr. Locke today, but he rejected all of my propositions. My envelope filled with cash is still on the counter, untouched,” Seb says in the most casual tone.

My head snaps off the sofa, and I aim my fuming glare at him. “What?”

“Since it worked with Delia, I did the same with Mr. Locke, and offered him power and a place in my bed,” he clarifies.

Luca snorts. His levity isn’t infectious. But even though I know Seb’s preferences, the thought of Fly with another man enrages me. For the second time in my life, I feel the urge to punch Seb so hard teeth would fly—the first time was when we met as kids, and he told me I was short-tempered.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I snarl.

He slowly blinks, and then answers with his usual flat tone. “I called you. You didn’t pick up.”

I grab a fistful of my hair and pull. I was so damn jealous about those photos of him with Arturo, I just couldn’t think straight.

Luca clears his voice. “So, where is Fly now?”

“I don’t know,” I mutter. “The tracker I put inside his bag is not working.”

“Did he shut it off?” Luca asks.

He must have after what I did to him. I turned my back, knowing that I couldn’t let him go. I was punishing him. Punishing me for wanting what I couldn’t have.

When he confessed his love for me, I felt guilty for wanting to pull him against me and never let him go. But I ignored the voice hissing at the back of my mind that he belonged to me, in my bed, under me, filled with my cum. Because family comes first. That was the motto ingrained into me.

“Those pictures are very incriminating.” Seb’s words twist the knife inside my back. “Mr. Locke said it was a coincidence meeting you and Arturo Enzino. But nothing is really coincidental.” Seb looks out at the night view from the balcony. “Even knowing that, do you still need him?”

I grit my teeth. Since Delia, I never let anyone get close to me again. But what I feel for him is much more powerful, consuming, a feral passion, an obsession—that will turn twisted if I can’t have him.

“He’s mine!” I growl. The words rip out of my throat as I let the possessive feeling go free. My cock wanted him from the beginning, the rest of me needed some time to catch up. And now I have to get him back. To see that smile he has only for me when I come back home, that little curl of his lips, his eyes lightening, head tilted slightly to the side.

“Then make Fly part of the fucking family, you bitch!” Luca states.

“You have my blessing.” Seb nods. “Just no more meeting Enzinos. I’ll keep a close eye on him, Marco. Tell him to behave, or I’ll kill him myself. And you know how much I hate that.”

I’ll keep Fly on cock 24/7 if necessary, but he’ll do what I say.

My phone vibrates. I quickly grab it from the coffee table. “Arturo just texted me.”

“Arturo Enzino? You gave him your phone number?” Luca asks.

“When would I do that?”

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