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Ricardo is the first to speak. "So, I might have been keeping a secret from you all. Nothing like Stasia — "
"Fucking bitch," Pharrell mumbles.
"But still equally as large." Ricardo finished his words with a nervous glance around the table.
I picked up my gun and pointed it at him. "Speak," I demanded.
"There were others who didn't want to be under your father's thumb. Men who either left or kept to themselves during his reign. They weren't here last night at my warning not to be near. It will give you a good starting point for soldiers to go with the ones you've amassed across the country over the years."
Dante's hand reached out to push my gun down. I placed it on the table, then wrapped his hand in mine.
"These men will remain loyal then?" he asked.
Ricardo gave a sharp nod. "Yes, they will. And until you can figure out how you'd like to move the organization forward, they'll keep things steady for now. All shipments and projects can continue as planned if you'd like."
"No bodies. Drugs and guns are fine, but no bodies." Dante dipped his head to Ricardo. "Thank you for taking the time to ensure there would be some men here locally. I've yet to call the others to see if they're willing to relocate."
The other man gave a loud laugh. "Those men would come anytime you called. To them, you're The Monster, the protector of their streets. They are all indebted to you."
Dante grinned. "Well, when you put it like that, maybe I should focus on making calls today."
"I'll start working on the office if you'd like. I know Yamamoto left a big mess in there. You can work in the living area or in our room." I lifted his hand, then pressed a kiss to his knuckles. "Whatever you like."
His eyes heated as he took me in. I shook my head gently to remind him we had company and breakfast to eat. I'd take care of his carnal needs much later.
Breakfast was a mostly quiet affair after that. Pharrell wasn't up for talking, and Ricardo ate like he's been starving in the basement for years. It was as if he'd never seen so much food before. Or maybe he kept stuffing his mouth so he wouldn't speak. I'd seen the looks he'd given Pharrell when they entered the office to find Stasia's body. Even before then, I'd suspected there were feelings between the two men. Whether they would act on them or not was hard to tell.
"Go make your calls. I've got this," I told Dante as I kissed him goodbye outside the dining room. I tapped his bottom as I watched him head towards the living room area.
Knowing he was comfortable and safe; I took off to work on my own project. I'd gotten dressed in sweats and a loose t-shirt this morning since I suspected this was how my day would go. I was thankful for my foresight once I entered the office and saw the destruction left behind. The carpet was saturated with blood where Romano's body had fallen, and the walls were also smeared in the dark black remnants of his blood.
Tools and supplies had been dropped off in here by the cleaning crew, though they weren't allowed to work in the space because of the confidential information inside. We still weren't quite sure what all we'd find, but it would be another fuck up in the plan if someone else came around and saw something they shouldn't have.
As I worked, I let my mind wander to all the things I wanted to do with my boy later. I had every intention of spoiling him rotten as often as possible. Whether the spoiling came in the form of actual tangible gifts or if it was doled out in orgasms would be the real question. I wanted to make his body crave mine just as desperately as I craved him. I wanted us to be damn near codependent with our needs.
Because there wasn't a world for me without Dante in it. He was everything to me, and now that we finally had our chance, I couldn't wait to see what our future would be like.
Hours passed with my mind a revolving door of thoughts. Memories blended with recent events until it was nothing more than a loop of Dante in my mind. His face, his hands, his body. All of him was mine.
Knock. Knock.
"Daddy? You ok in here? It's almost time to eat. I sent Pharrell and Ricardo to go grab something since I knew the staff was still busy cleaning upstairs." Dante moved further into the room as he came to stand in front of me. His hand reached up to touch my chest. "You're so sweaty."
I'd ditched my shirt hours ago after soaking it through. At the time, I grumbled about it, but now with my boy's hands on me, I felt thankful for the need. Pulling him closer, I placed my face in the crease of his neck. He still smelled fresh, like something that was all Dante mixed with a hint of floral fabric softener.
"You smell so fucking good, baby," I groaned against his skin.
He whimpered as his body moved even closer. "Daddy?"
"Yes, Dante?"
His head fell back as he gave me more room to work. "Will you fuck me over the desk?"
I froze as I pulled back to look at him. His eyes were lust drunk, but there wasn't an ounce of hesitation in them.
"You want to get fucked on your dead father's desk?" I asked for clarity.
He nodded and then bit his lip. "I always wanted to cause a mess in here with you. Something, anything, that I knew would drive the old fuck mad. I wanted him furious that we'd even think to do it. Kind of like pissing on his grave, but less golden shower and more fuck-my-brains-out instead."
