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It just didn’t make sense.
“So, how is it that Edwin was able to come in and alter your files? Do all your staff have access to such sensitive information? Do you use passwords or lock this room when you’re not in here?” He didn’t think that Matteo was that stupid. There was more to this story.
Raising his head, the man looked conflicted. He walked over to a leather chair and rested his butt on the arm.
“Edwin and I had become rather close over the years. It wasn’t anything sexual, but he became someone who I confided in and often shared secrets with. It was because of that level of trust that I gave Edwin access to my system to update files whenever I was tired or didn’t have the time. Little did I know the level of betrayal that was to follow.” Matteo stared into space as if deep in thought.
Chase felt for the guy. It was never a good feeling to find out that someone you trusted had betrayed you. Realizing there was nothing more they could do down in command central, Chase turned to Levi, who was looking bored as shit.
“Shall we head upstairs and figure out our next move?” Chase asked.
Life snapped back into Matteo. “Oh, Levi, you should go say hi to Diesel. He’s sitting out by the pool. I know he would be happy to see you. Perhaps it will remind him why he belongs here with us.”
Levi’s face lit up. “Sure thing, M,” Levi cooed before grabbing Chase by the arm and leading them out of Matteo’s secret room.
19
CHASE
It was early enough in the morning that the pool area was still rather empty. Most people—choosing to have breakfast or perhaps enjoy a morning fuck or two—weren’t in a hurry to lounge by the sprawling oasis Matteo called a pool.
Chase still found it difficult to believe that this massive château was someone’s home. Granted, it was filled with sexy-ass guys who were more than willing to party, get naked, and even fuck around. From what Chase had been able to discern, most of Matteo’s fortune was inherited money from his now-deceased family. Apparently, some tragedy befell the wealthy family, leaving the whole estate to one Mr. Matteo Sabarino.
Given the wealth Matteo seemed to have amassed, Chase wondered why Matteo would turn to using his wealthy clients’ secrets to collect even more money. He didn’t need the cash after all.
Power.
It all came down to that five-letter word.
Money equaled power, which equaled respect. And all powerful people demanded respect.
Look at Matteo, for instance. On the outside, he appeared to be a kind and thoughtful man, but deep down, there was a dark and sinister being that demanded obedience and respect. It was buried under years of charm and social etiquette… but it was there.
Chase knew the signs. Chase knew the type. He even got a glimpse of it the other night.
For a moment, he wondered just how far Matteo would have gone. Would he have killed him? Or stopped when he was close to death?
It was unpredictable people like Matteo who scared him. You never really knew where you stood with them or how far they were willing to go. And that made them dangerous.
Lying on a lounge chair, arm propped behind his head, in nothing but a tiny red Speedo and black sunglasses, was presumably the man they had come to see. Diesel.
Judging by his slow-moving chest and by the way his mouth hung slightly open, Chase guessed that the man was taking a little snooze by the pool.
Chase’s eyes drifted over the numerous tattoos that graced the sleeping man’s body. Over his left pec was a grinning demon’s face—eerie as fuck if you asked him. He guessed that some guys must love that tattooed, bad-boy look. In his opinion, he didn’t need Satan’s child smiling down on him while giving the man a blowjob. But that was just him.
To add to the nightmare canvas that was Diesel were the drawings of what looked like stab wounds along the right side of the man’s rib cage. And, of course, his nightmare would not be complete without the chilling words “Never Again” scribbled in an arch just above the man’s belly button. An eerie warning? Or a gentle reminder?
Then, of course, if the man’s tattoos didn’t scare you off, there was his package. Tucked tightly under the barely-there Speedo was a thick piece of meat curled around, just waiting to break free and destroy its next victim. Seriously, the package should come with a warning label. Even soft, the man could strangle you with his cock.
It was clear to see why the man belonged at La Maison. He was probably one of Matteo’s star attractions—when he wasn’t off on a bender or passed out somewhere. That “bad boy, come fuck me hard into oblivion” fantasy probably sold well here.
“Nice hardware,” Levi teased, standing over Diesel’s passed-out body.
Slowly, the man’s arm moved, and his head began to lift. “Levi?” he groaned, twisting his face up toward the man standing over him.
“Yeah, it’s nice to see you’re still alive, fuck-face,” Levi responded.
The half-dead man in the lounge chair let out a chuckle. “I’ve missed you too, bro.” The man’s arms spread open, making way for Levi’s tight little body to slide into his.
