Page 19 of Shot For Mercy

Giovanni’s, on the other hand, has private rooms reserved for people they’re doing business with. They play poker and chat, drink the top shelf shit, and make deals. Which is where we’re headed right now. To one of those rooms. If there’s one thing I know about this meeting, it is that all the brothers will be there. I have to make sure to keep my eyes to myself as much as possible. I don’t need anyone suspecting I have a thing for Emiliano. Not when they wouldn’t hesitate to tell Matteo. I’m trying to save my friendship with him, not sabotage it even more. Though I know that if it came down to it, I’d choose Emiliano over Matteo each and every day.

What the fuck does that say about me?

I’m a traitor, even I can acknowledge that. I’m trading someone who has been there for me through thick and thin for a man who will barely even look at me. Who would never see something permanent with me. I’m just a game to him, possibly a good time, but that’s about it. And it guts me.

The first time I realized that I was in love with Emiliano was when I was eighteen. After I heard him fucking someone at the penthouse, I began to follow him to Luna’s Den—the brothel—weekly. I entered the room. Emiliano didn’t bother locking the door, giving anyone access to watch. He didn’t even realize it was me. He didn’t look.

I still question whether he has a kink I’m missing or if it was just a coincidence. The problem was that when I saw the blonde bitch on her hands and knees for him; I was a changed man. My stomach flipped, my heart squeezed in my chest, and my eyes stung with tears. Not only was I jealous, but I had this deep feeling of betrayal that I couldn’t work out. He didn’t owe me anything—I knew that. Yet my heart wasn’t getting the memo. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized I was obsessed. Crazed. I wanted topossesshim.

To this day, I can admit it wasn’t my finest moment, but I stood there and stared as Emiliano pounded into her pussy. I’m one hundred percent gay, so I couldn’t appreciate her body, but his was absolute perfection. I still wish I could’ve seen his cock. Watching it go in and out of her wasn’t enough, and it left an ache in my chest to think about him with someone else. An ache I still fucking feel.

I still feel too much for him. An uncontrollable longing I can’t kick. I’m mad with love and pent-up lust for him. I’m fuckinghungry.

All I feel is famine.

“Are you going to get out of my car, Cole?” Matteo mutters, exasperation clear in his voice. “They’re waiting for us.”

“My bad,” I mumble, opening the car door and not waiting for him.

My strides are hurried as I close the distance between me and the restaurant doors. The ache in my chest is almost unbearable as I hear Matty’s footsteps close behind me, and I take a deep breath to keep myself in check. I knew this was going to be hard; I just didn’t think it would bethisdamn hard. I didn’t think he’d stop speaking to me. I was a goddamn fool.

Opening the door, I’m greeted by the warm air in the restaurant. The hostess is impeccably dressed, with black dress pants and a white long-sleeve button-up. I look over at her name tag and smile.

“Hello, Giulia,” I say softly, looking right into her blue eyes. “Di Milano.”

Di Milano is the code word to go to the back, and as soon as she realizes what’s happening, her eyes widen. She schools her features quickly, though. A-plus for effort. Giulia nods and lets us through, not bothering to guide us. You either know where you’re going, or you shouldn’t be here in the first place.

I make my way to the back, going through a hallway next to the kitchen and opening the first door on the left. I don’t bother knocking because I know they’re expecting us. We’re?—

“You’re late,” Emiliano growls as soon as we go inside. I close the door and lock it, trying to keep a semblance of privacy. We don’t need any interruptions right now. “Matteo.” He nods, then completely ignores my presence.

My nostrils flare with anger, and I huff. The air is suddenly too thick to breathe, and when I look around, there are six pairs of eyes on me, including Matty’s. Everyone’s but Emiliano’s. Great—noweveryoneknows something is going on. Just how long will I be able to hide thisthingfrom my best friend? Surely he’s going to figure it out all on his own if I don’t tell him. There’s not one subtle bone in my body.

Emiliano’s back is turned to me, and I use that opportunity to sit on the worn black leather couch. I look around, taking in the poker tables and couches lining the walls. When I face forward once more, everyone’s eyes are still on me.

“Is there something on my fucking face?” I snap, and Alessandro begins to laugh. “What the hell is so funny?”

“Nothing—” Lorenzo snickers. “It’s all good.”

It feels like there’s an inside joke going around, and I’m on the outs of it. Probably because it’s about me. My eyes narrow on each one of them, and they all smile innocently at me. Oh, yeah, it’s definitely about me.

“Stop it,” Emiliano growls, looking at his brothers one by one. I watch as they straighten and lose their smirks. It’s somewhat satisfying. If only he’d fucking look at me now. “We’re here to talk about the Sinaloa Cartel.”

I nod, and he finally looks at me. “Armando didn’t deny working with the Bratva,” I say, and he nods slowly too. “Not that he could—the Pakhan was there.”

Emiliano frowns at that. “He didn’t get Andrey to do it?”

“Maybe he’s scared I’ll finish the job,” I tell him with a smirk.

“Will you?” Giovanni asks. “Finish the job?”

I look over at Matteo, and we make eye contact. His eyes slowly widen, and he shakes his head. “No,” he says. “He won’t. He’s not my knight in shining armor.”

I hear the unsaid words though.

“Not anymore?” Lorenzo asks, but I’m tired of playing games with all of them.

I sigh. “Who’s gonna kill Armando?” I focus on Emiliano’s face, willing him to make eye contact with me, but he won’t. And it pisses me off. I had him at my mercy barely a few days ago, and now he wants to act as if I don’t even exist. “Emiliano.”

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