Page 8 of The Chameleon

Many of the young men who worked for him atLa Maisonhad fled from unsafe households or had struggled with substance abuse problems. Matteo had taken them in, offering them a safe place to stay while they sought the help that they needed. After getting back on their feet, some men decided to stay, taking on work atLa Maisonas dancers or bartenders, while others chose to move on, finding their own paths in life.

Rafael was no such case. He had traveled from Spain to France and applied for a position as a dancer, wanting to be part of something extraordinary. Matteo was more than happy to offer him the job when he saw what the boy could do. Let’s just say that Spanish men know how to make a man salivate while up on stage.

“The Palais Garnier is one of the most famous opera houses in all the world. It was built in the late 1800s at the order of Napoleon the Third. It’s one of my favorite places. I love all the art and sculptures around this place. The amount of time andpainstaking hard work it took, carving every little detail into the banisters, the décor, and the structures. It all just amazes me.”

Even though Matteo lived in his own mini palace, he could still appreciate the beauty and luxury of Paris’s great landmarks.

“Come. Let’s join the others before they take the good seats,” Matteo proposed, placing his hand on the small of Rafael’s back and guiding him toward their private box. He couldn’t wait to see the expression on Rafael’s face when the show began.

Just before Matteo stepped through the doors, he glanced over his shoulder to see if his secret admirer was still checking him out.

At the other side of the bar, a tanned gentleman wearing a Hugo Boss suit and slicked-back hair raised his martini glass in Matteo's direction. The man gave a discreet nod and tilted his head toward the men’s room door.

Yeah, he might have to make a pit stop during the performance and see if he can’t make someone else scream at the top of their lungs this evening. It had been about two weeks since Matteo last had his balls drained, and it was about time that he made another charitable donation.

2

ARES

The cold night air cut deep, slashing across Ares's face as he exited the car. He pulled his coat tight across his chest and shivered as he looked up at the broken-down building standing before him.

Fucking place.

He hated it here. Nothing but weird smells, trash everywhere, and people who wanted to fuck you up the ass any chance they got.

Criminals.

Every fucking one of them. As far as the eye could see. They would sell their mother to the devil if they thought they could make a quick buck off of her.

Weakness.

It was all any of them looked for. Trying to find it. Exploit it. And take you out at the knees.

That was one of the important lessons Ares had learned long ago—never show weakness. The moment you did, you were done for. The fuckers were like sharks. They all swarmed in the second they smelled blood.

Which is why he was standing outside an industrial warehouse in the middle of fucking November in Lithuania.

Ares turned to Elijah, his head of security and second in command, and shook his head.

He really fucking hated it here.

Elijah just stared. He didn’t need to say a word. He knew exactly what was going through Ares’s mind.

The man was ex-special forces, having worked under various regimes in the Middle East before branching out on his own as an independent contractor doing work for different crime lords or corrupt politicians across the globe. Elijah had many talents, one of which was the ability to get in and out of heavily guarded areas without being detected. Watching the man work was like watching an artist create. You were just… in awe.

But just like every master spy, Elijah’s luck eventually ran out, and the man was captured in Qatar. The funny thing about capturing a man like Elijah, the government never publicizes the arrest. They don’t want word getting out that they are in possession of such a high-value target. They want privacy while they…extracttheir own information. Having other governments or agencies looking over one’s shoulder limits the tactics one can use on a prisoner before eventually executing the man.

It was Ares who eventually discovered the talented mercenary being tortured for information… just days away from his execution.

Although Ares had never met Elijah before, he had heard rumors of the man’stalents. Not wanting to see those skills go to waste, Ares secretly arranged an escape and helped get the man out of the country before his execution.

Ever since then, Elijah had been serving faithfully by Ares’s side. There is little trust in the criminal world, but saving a man’s life can help build an everlasting bond between two criminals—especially ones with trust issues.

So here they were—brothers in arms—well… more likemasterand hisguard dog. But still, they looked out for each other.

“Let’s get this shit done so we can get the fuck out of this place,” Ares mumbled to Elijah. He turned and began trudging toward the well-guarded entrance to the facility.

At the door, they were welcomed by three men holding assault rifles. Two of them held their weapons with confidence and experience, while the third looked like he had just been tossed a gun and told to look like it wasn’t his first time.

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