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"Why?" I grit my teeth.
"You've been summoned."
34
BENEDETTO
I'm still reelingfrom the man's words when the door swings open. Arlo, Rusty, and Wesley are shoved into the room by the backs of their necks. They cry out as they slam against the wall.
Hatred cuts me with a jagged knife when I look at my boy. He's completely naked and his full body is on display. Arlo and Rusty are naked, too.
Arlo has marks on his face and blood dripping down his left arm. Rusty is crying.
Wesley has a fierce gaze in his eyes. He shoots daggers at the men who shoved him in this room.
"Daddy." Arlo cries out as he stares at Constantine. "Help us, please. We can't escape."
Constantine spins around to face the man pressing a gun to his neck. "Let me go."
"You and your brothers had your chance to bring the Antonovs to us. You lied and now you must pay the price."
"We're almost there, boys." Gianluca grits his teeth. "We won't be in this fucking hellhole for long."
Wesley stares at me. We make eye contact that melts my heart. It infuriates me that his entire body is unclothed, his perfect curves, his dick. This is the exact same view so many sick fucks got when they abused him. It’s revolting and I want to smother him in blankets to preserve his dignity.
But there’s a look in Wesley’s eyes I can't place. It's a spark I’ve never seen before. A look of dogged determination that lets me know he'll fight to the fucking death before he lets these men take him out.
He's already suffered by their hand once, and he'll be damned if he lets it happen again. It makes me so fucking proud of him.
"I'm coming for you, boy." My voice is gravel. "Don't be scared."
"I trust you, Daddy." Wesley looks at me. "You won't let me down."
The man smirks. "As you can tell, we have your boys." He picks up his bottle of liquor, then pours himself another glass. "If you want them again, all you need to do is tell the Antonovs to meet us here."
"I thought you said it was too late." I spit the words out.
“We want a private meeting with them to discuss business. We can come up with a truce on our terms or kill them. That's none of your concern.”
Gianluca grits his teeth. "We're not giving you shit, asshole. Let these boys go right now."
Constantine nods. "We don't negotiate with terrorists. We'll blast your motherfucking heads off whether or not the Antonovs come. You took our Glocks, but we have more weapons where those came from, motherfucker."
"I was afraid it would come to this." The man picks up a device on the edge of the conference room table and brings it to his mouth. "I'm having difficulties, sir. Come in."
I turn to Gianluca. "What the fuck is that?"
The man faces me. "I didn't say you could fucking speak."
The device in his hand crackles. "Michael Diavolo. Coming in."
An invisible hook tugs the man's lips into a smirk. "Our company isn’t cooperating. We need to convince them."
"Cut their fingers off."
"I already stabbed one in the neck, sir. The pain doesn't move them."
"We'll be right there."
