AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Frank's face fell, his disappointment evident as he slowly revealed his inferior hand. He let out a defeated whine, flopping back in his seat.
The gathered audience erupted into a cacophony of cheers and gasps, but Marco barely heard them. All he could think about was Joey—the way their bodies tangled together like a secret language only they understood, and all the delicious possibilities that lay ahead of them.
"Congratulations," Frank muttered through gritted teeth, his face flush with anger and humiliation.
"Thank you," Marco replied, his voice dripping with false sincerity. "I'll take good care of him—someone has to."
As Marco turned to leave the table, he caught sight of two familiar figures lurking in the shadows. Joey and Gina stood side by side, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief as they stared at Marco, taking in every detail of the illicit exchange that had just occurred.
"Joey," Marco breathed, feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of him. He wanted to run over to him, to pull him into his arms and swallow him whole, but he knew that now was not the time for such displays of passion. There would be time enough for that later, when they were alone and free from prying eyes.
"Marco," Joey replied, his voice barely above a whisper. The confusion in his eyes was palpable, but so too was the desire that simmered just beneath the surface, a raging inferno waiting to be stoked. "Why did Gina bring me here?"
"So you could see it for yourself." Marco's voice was low.
Marco's eyes locked with Joey's, and for a fleeting moment, the world around them seemed to fade into the background. He saw the mixture of fear, relief, and longing in Joey's gaze, mirroring the tumultuous emotions swirling within his own chest.
Without breaking eye contact, Marco took a step closer, his heart pounding with a fierce intensity. He yearned to hold Joey in his arms, to provide the comfort and reassurance he desperately needed. But he knew the situation was delicate, the stakes higher than ever before.
Frank's voice broke the charged silence. "Joey," he said, his tone laced with a hint of desperation. "Son, let me explain. This... this isn't what you think."
Joey's eyes darted briefly towards his father, his expression a mix of disappointment and resignation. The truth hung heavy in the air, and he had grown tired of the lies and deceit that had defined their relationship for far too long.
"No, Dad," Joey finally spoke, his voice steady and resolute. "I've seen enough. I've had enough. I don't want anything to do with you or your world anymore."
A pang of guilt surged through Marco's heart, knowing that his actions had contributed to the rift between Joey and his father. But deep down, he also knew that this was a necessary step for Joey's own liberation, a chance to break free from the suffocating grip of the underworld.
As Frank's face contorted with a mix of anger and desperation, Marco extended a hand towards Joey, his eyes filled with unwavering love and support. Without hesitation, Joey stepped forward, finding solace in Marco's embrace.
In that moment, time seemed to stand still. Marco held Joey close, his arms enveloping him in a protective cocoon. The outside world faded away, leaving only the two of them, their hearts beating in synchrony.
"I've got you," Marco whispered, his voice a gentle murmur against Joey's ear. "I'll keep you safe, I promise."
Joey buried his face in Marco's chest, his body trembling with a mixture of fear, relief, and newfound hope. The weight of his past life seemed to melt away as he clung to the man he loved, finding solace in their shared embrace.
"What have you done?"
"Claimed what's mine," Marco said, his voice low and possessive. He stepped closer to Joey, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, close enough to catch a whiff of his intoxicating scent. "And I intend to keep it."
"Good," Joey whispered, his body trembling as he closed the gap between them, their lips crashing together in a desperate, all-consuming kiss.
Chapter nineteen
EPILOGUE
Marcoslouchedatthebar at the Pink Pussy, née Sinsation. He swirled his half-finished beer with one hand as he watched the dancers with a distant expression. The bass-heavy music pulsed through the air like a lustful heartbeat, but Marco's focus was elsewhere as he absentmindedly traced the condensation on the glass.
"God, I miss Joey," sighed one of the girls as she sauntered by.
Another nodded in agreement. "Me too. He had such a kind heart. Not many guys around here can say that." She rolled her eyes and adjusted the straps of her glittering bra.
At the mention of Joey's name, Marco's gaze sharpened, and he couldn't help but eavesdrop on their conversation. His chest tightened with longing.
"Remember that time he brought us all coffee after that real late night? And it wasn't just any coffee—it was fancy stuff from that little Italian place down the street," one giggled, her voice lilting over the pounding music. "He even remembered my favorite flavor."
"Ugh, yes! What a sweetheart," the other gushed, flipping her hair over her shoulder as the two women continued back to the club's floor, their laughter fading into the cacophony of the music.
Marco's fingers clenched around his beer. It was true; Joey had been a beacon of kindness and warmth in this otherwise cold and calculating world they inhabited. And Marco had dragged him into the dangerous life of the Mafia, with no guarantee of safety or happiness.
