Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Chapter 10
Nero
The familiar tang of blood filled Nero’s mouth as the blow jerked his head back and made him stagger. Tree crowns loomed on the outskirts of his vision as he tipped backwards, but he grabbed at air and found a thick arm, which helped him stay upright.
He had been expecting this, though Father rarely unleashed his form of justice in company. Shame was like venom spreading through his body from the sting, and he let go of Miguel, widening his stance in case there was another hit coming.
Raul eyed Miguel from head to toe and shook his head. “And this is the piece of shit who fucked up with my cargo?”
Nero’s pulse drummed in his temples, and he resisted the urge to push Father back when he stood too close to Miguel. Being the only living son of a man this powerful had its advantages, and those included not being thrown to the caimans in the event of failure. But a man as new to the organization as Miguel couldn’t count on such mercy.
It would have been a waste of a handsome man.
A decent enough man too.
Miguel stood to attention, as if he wasn’t tense enough already. “My apologies, sir. The matter was out of our hands.”
“I don’t need anyone blamed for my mistakes,” Nero added.
For the longest time, Raul eyed them both, as if wishing to evaporate them out of existence, but then went for it with another blow, this time to Nero’s chest, knocking the air out of his lungs.
He then turned to Miguel, and Father’s man squeezed his hand on the gun at his hip, as if he sensed a potential for trouble. “I know my son was the one in charge, but next time you tell me something was ‘out of your hands’, you won’t have any hands left. Understood?”
Miguel nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Nero clenched his teeth, focusing on first catching his breath, then making it even again. The warm air cooled his overheated lungs, but when Father swung his arm again, Nero didn’t even flinch. Still, the blow made his head turn to the side so fast his neck hurt way more than the dull ache in the cheekbone, where the fist had landed.
Miguel shouldn’t be seeing this.
Nero might have been attempting to get into his pants for years, but their relationship had recently taken an unexpected turn toward something close to friendship, and as unsexy as being beaten up by Father was, a part of him feared that after seeing him just stand there and take it, Miguel would lose whatever respect he’d developed for him.
The glimpse he’d gotten into the real Miguel behind the stoic facade that was both sexy and infuriating, suggested they might share more than he’d previously thought, and he didn’t want it to slip from his grasp.
“This is stimulating. Never thought I might be into masochism, but this pain-pleasure sensation I’m feeling? Kinda want to explore it now,” Nero said, stabbing Father with his gaze.
There. He might end up with a broken nose, but he would not just take anyone’s shit without hitting back. Even if only with words.
Raul took a deep inhale, and his skin gained a reddish shade when he looked away, as if haunted by images he did not want to be faced with. “None of that gay shit in my presence.”
“Lots of straight men are into masochism. It shouldn’t be so taboo. Live and let li—”
“Shut the fuck up for once,” Father snapped, but stepped back instead of attacking Nero again. Was he afraid of catching BDSM cooties and waking up with rope digging into his flesh?
Nero pretended to zip his mouth shut as Father offered him a cold stare from the top of the steps. “I brought you here to meet my new associates,” he said in a voice so cold Nero felt frost on his nape. This wasn’t an official residence, and Father wanted to keep its existence a secret, so only people who proved themselves could even dream of stepping across the threshold. Anyone who’d earned this honor while being called new was a potential threat not just to Nero’s position in the cartel, but to his very existence.
It was no secret that Father detested Nero, but he hadn’t gotten rid of him yet, so why would he change his mind now?
He wiped off the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and waited for Father to enter the villa alongside his favorite bodyguard, called Mouse because he spoke so little Nero had heard his voice maybe twice in the three years they’d known one another.
He didn’t want to see Miguel’s pity, so he walked up the steps and entered the air-conditioned house. At least the tap of Miguel’s boots right behind him gave him the sense that someone he could trust had his back.