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"Yeah, you seemed pretty sure of that." Toro leaned forward, closing the gap between them. "Why is that?"
At the closeness between them, Ollie froze a little, his posture going rigid. But whatever internal struggle was going on inside him eventually got the upper hand, winning out over his fear of Toro. "He doesn't support weakness."
"Yeah, but you're his son."
At that, Ollie glared up at him--an actual glare, despite the situation he was in. "I have five other brothers. They're the success stories, the ones he'd fight for." He laughed a little, bitterness in his tone. "Sorry, but you grabbed the wrong Petrov. You're wasting your time."
The Toscanos knew all about the other Petrov sons. When Angelo had given Toro the green light to make a move against the Petrovs, he'd scoped them out.
Five older brothers, all in the same mold as their dear old dad. They were running their own operations, working under their dad to bite at the Toscanos' turf.
And then there was the baby brother, with his big brown eyes and his useless job.
Toro had made a bet on which son was the one that would really get under Al Petrov's skin.
Turns out, he'd lost. No-one had come to rescue the baby of the group.
"Yeah? Why's that?" Toro gripped Ollie's chin, forcing his face up for inspection. "What kinda scandal could a kid like you have got wrapped up in?"
"Scandal?" The fight went out of Ollie. He dropped his gaze to the floor. "You don't need a scandal for someone to stop loving you. You just need to not be the sort of man they wanted you to be."
Ollie let out a shaky laugh. "Maybe it's better this way," he replied softly, as if trying to convince himself more than Toro. "If my father doesn't pay the ransom, then at least I won't have to worry about disappointing him anymore."
Toro knew fucked up.
But leaving your flesh and blood in the arms of your rivals, for them to do whatever they wanted to, just because they were--what, skinny and nerdy instead of big and brain-dead?
That wasFucked.Up.
Toro dropped Ollie's chin. "Shit, your old man's colder than I gave him credit for." He got to his feet, his tall, imposing figure casting a shadow over the younger man.
As Ollie looked up at him, Toro got out his phone. "Let's see if we can't fire up that heart of his, huh?"
Ollie's eyes widened, aware of what was about to happen. "Please, Toro... I-I can't..." Ollie whispered, trembling as Toro's hand came to rest on his belt.
And there was fear in his eyes, yes…
But there was also a spark of readiness that Toro couldn't ignore.
He felt his own arousal stirring. "Can't?" Toro repeated, his voice low and dangerous. "Let's see about that."
Toro held out his phone, making Ollie flinch.
Get your dick out, Castillo, and your head in the game.
He hovered his thumb over the record button… and then he dropped it to the side.
"You're not…?" Ollie's tongue nervously darted out to run over his lip.
"Not filming myself coming on your face again? Not fucking that pretty little face of yours, and making you swallow every inch of me? No, not yet."
Yet.
"Look at me, Ollie," Toro demanded, his voice low and commanding.
Ollie hesitated for a moment, then slowly raised his eyes to meet Toro's intense gaze.
The kid was obedient. Toro's cock hardened.
