Page 92 of The Chameleon

He loved this group of pains in the ass. They were his family. His sons. When he was in danger, they all came to his aid.

Actually, they all did. This hodgepodge of trained killers, Irish gang members, and team of exotic dancers.

Inside, Matteo’s heart warmed. How had he gotten so lucky?

Then Matteo’s eyes drifted to Ares, who was sitting patiently waiting for his turn to be served.

Staring into those big brown eyes, Matteo felt his heart expand. No matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise—even after all these years—he still loved the scary brute.

The man had brought a fucking army to save him. How could one not feel special?

Staring into those hopeful eyes, Matteo could see the kindness Ares tried to keep hidden behind his protective shields.

But actions speak louder than words. When Ares stumbled upon all those victims who also needed his help, he didn’t hesitate dividing his resources and making sure that they were rescued as well—even if that meant charging in to rescue Matteo on his own.

That is the definition of a knight in shining armor.

What man does that?

Only a man who is madly in love.

When Matteo first learned of Ares’s involvement in his parent’s death, he felt angry and betrayed—wanting nothing more than to freeze Ares out and never speak to the man again.

But in the days that followed, he realized that the true cause of his pain was Massimo Zitti. Knowing that he was able to exact his revenge and get justice for both his parents helped to quell the anger being directed toward Ares.

In the end, Ares had been a victim in this charade as well. Matteo couldn’t imagine the guilt that Ares must live with everyday, knowing that because of his mistakes, two innocent people were killed.

No, Ares was not the man who Matteo should be mad at.

Smiling, Matteo passed Ares a glass of champagne. “Here. You’ve earned this.”

“Careful, people are going to start to think that you like me,” Ares said because, of course, he would.

Pulling back the glass, Matteo raised an eyebrow at the sarcastic bastard. “On second thought, should you really be drinking alcohol while you’re on pain meds?” Matteo’s eyes drifted to the bandaged foot Ares had stuffed inside a plastic boot. “I don’t want to hinder your recovery.”

Grabbing the champagne from Matteo’s hand, Ares smirked.

“You’re bad luck. Every time I’m around you, I always end up getting shot.”

“Perhaps you should take that as an omen to stay away?” Matteo teased, giving Ares the tiniest hint of a smile.

“I’m a stubborn man. No god or mystic power is going to keep me away from what I want.” Ares gave a wink before taking a sip of his champagne.

Damn. Who could resist sweetness like that?

Matteo’s heart was doomed.

Shaking his head at the romantic idiot, Matteo raised his glass and turned to the group.

“I wanted to take a sec to personally thank all of you for everything that you have done for us these past few days. Putting your lives in danger to help rescue me and all those trafficked victims was truly a selfless act. Always remember that because of your actions, families were saved from a horrific nightmare. You are all true superheroes in my book.”

“Even us?” Isaac asked, standing shirtless in nothing more than ripped jean shorts and a chain tied to his wallet. His lovely snake tattoo protectively guarding its master.

“Yes, even my team of deadly… dancers.” Matteo hesitated for a moment, trying to search for the perfect word. None came.

“You mean deadlystrippers guild?” Ares asked because… Ares had class.

Matteo threw him an annoyed look. “We’ll find a more suitable name for my team of heroic professionals.” Matteo turned and gave Isaac a wink. These boys really stepped up over the past few months, risking everything to save one another.

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