by Bethany-Kris
Oh, wow.
Ginevra had another inkling even as the chill in her spine grew colder. “So, why is Corrado guarding me, then? Seems like a waste of his time if you all do … other things.”
“He owed a favor.”
“Oh.” Ginevra pulled the blanket down and eyed Alessio. “Ten, you said?”
“Yeah, it’s about when I first came to the people who started and control the organization.”
“That’s very young.”
“My father had been dead for years, and my mother might as well have already been six feet under what with the way she needed drugs to get her from the bed to the floor on an hourly basis. The League was a far better choice for me, trust me.”
God.
Her heart hurt.
No child should feel unloved by their parents. Ginevra missed her mother more than anything in the world, and thoughts of Marie filled her mind late at night when she couldn’t sleep. The pain of losing her mama would never go away, but she realized as she stared at Alessio, she would much rather deal with this kind of grief than the type he faced every day of his life.
They both hurt.
One seemed … more painful.
“Your mom, well, you don’t talk about her with fondness.”
“Because I felt none.”
“I’m sorry.”
Alessio shrugged and grinned again. “Thing is … I’m grateful for her, which puts me in a strange place, right? She might as well have abandoned me, like my father, and everybody else around me, too. But if not for her, then I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have The League.”
Ginevra cleared her throat. “Or Corrado, right? You said it’s where you met him.”
“Yeah, and him, too.”
Ginevra heard his wariness. Like he wasn’t sure whether meeting Corrado had been a good thing, but he didn’t sound like he wanted to change it, either.
God knew she understood the feeling.
Far too well.
From her position on the chair, Ginevra was able to see the credits for the movie scrolling past, but Alessio was the most fascinating thing. She wasn’t sure when he’d rested his head in his hand, and closed his eyes, but at some point, he fell asleep during the movie.
Usually, the man gave off an intensive vibe. Like he was vibrating with energy, some of it dark and enthralling, but it had nowhere to go. A simple conversation with him left her doing a deep dive through her mind and heart because even talking to the man was overwhelming.
She wasn’t sure what to make of him.
What to think …
Alessio hadn’t touched her since the day in the library. He hadn’t even tried, really, but he observed her all the time. Similar to the way Corrado did, too. Like he both enjoyed what he was seeing, and, there was something about her that he couldn’t quite figure out.
It put her on edge.
And she liked it.
Which only confused Ginevra more.
Like she needed this problem.
Wasn’t being entangled with one of these men bad enough? For her, yes. She had enough shit to consider about Corrado without adding Alessio on top of the mix, too, but that’s what a single kiss had done.
A kiss.
A few words.
Poetry.
Sharing the same space.
All of this made her consider Alessio.
Refusing to go down the damn rabbit hole again, Ginevra stood from the chair, gathering the blanket into her arms. Corrado hadn’t come back after he left the living room, and she wasn’t sure how to turn off the movie using the game system remote, so she let the credits play as she headed out of the space.
Not that she needed more shit to wonder about before bed, Ginevra still lingered in the doorway of Corrado’s bedroom. He milled about the room, shedding his clothes, undoing his wristwatch, and leaving the bathroom like he wasn’t at all bothered about her staring.
Finally, he turned to give her a look as, in nothing but boxer-briefs, he came up to the side of the bed, ready to get in. “Are you sleeping in the room across the hall again, then?”
Ginevra blinked.
His frankness never failed to surprise her.
“I shouldn’t be in here,” she said truthfully.
Corrado raised a brow. “I would prefer you in my bed.”
Wow.
And he didn’t pull punches, either.
“And if you think,” he continued, not giving her the chance to speak, “you sleeping in my bed is a problem for Alessio, you’re wrong … you’re not giving this enough consideration, Ginevra. He doesn’t care if you’re in my bed, or if I’m fucking you in the shower first thing in the morning. It’s not about sex for him—oh, he fucking loves that, yeah—but it’s something more for him about this.
“The physical side of a relationship is probably the easiest thing for him to deal with, if I’m being honest. He can compartmentalize and comprehend all the whys I want to fuck you, doesn’t see a problem, and because of that, doesn’t care. It’s not the real issue.”
“Seems strange. I would imagine that part of this would be the hardest to deal with.”
“Not for him, or me.” Corrado shrugged one shoulder, pulled the blankets back, and slipped into the bed as he said, “It’s not about the sex, and it doesn’t matter how much you think it is, it won’t change that he doesn’t give a shit.”
“He told me about where he came from, his mom, and stuff. After you left earlier, I mean.”
Corrado made a noise under his breath, dark and irritated. Over what, though, she didn’t have a clue. It could have been something hurt Alessio, or that they had a conversation. Because frankly, Alessio was right.
This man was shit at communication.
He needed to work on it.
“Stem it back to that,” Corrado said, gesturing between them, “for this, huh? You want to understand what his problem is here—it’s that. It’s about being vulnerable to someone else for Alessio, him giving something willingly when he doesn’t give it to fucking anybody.”
“Loyalty. Trust.”
“That, yeah. And I abused it, in a way.” Corrado leaned back against the headboard, using his arms crossed behind his head as a pillow while he watched her with that stare of his, so penetrating and vast. All it took was a look, too. “So, again, if you believe this is about sex, or the fact you’re in my bed might piss him off, you’re wrong. It’s not even a fraction of the problem.”
“It’s good to know, but it’s not why I came in here to talk, either.”
Corrado nodded at her. “What do you want, then?”
“I want to ask some things.”
“About?”
She shifted on her feet, tightening her hold on the blanket like it might make it easier to say the words drifting through her thoughts. Because, if she wanted to think about two men, their relationship, and her interest in both, then shouldn’t she voice those same feelings, too?
What was it her mama told her years ago?
If you suppose you’re mature enough to have sex with a man, Ginevra, then you best be ready to talk about it, too.
Right.
“How long have you been together?”
Corrado smiled a little. “Five years, or so. Almost from the day we met, but it was a shaky thing for a while.”
Huh.
“And you … love him?”
“Even if he doesn’t want me to say it, yes.”
“Is what he told me true?”
Corrado gave her a look, murmuring, “I have no idea what he told you, Ginny.”
“That you … share women and—”
“Yes.”
“Often?”
Corrado laughed. “I mean, not as often as you might assume. We didn’t prowl the streets every night looking for someone to take home to fuck, kitten. If it came up, then it did. We did our thing together, too, and we slept with different women alone without the other involved.”
“Sounds … messy.”
>
And intriguing.
She had so many more questions about that part of Alessio and Corrado’s relationship, especially where other women came into play. But she didn’t want to mull it over right then, not that her body was giving her much of a choice. She was glad she had the blanket hanging from her arms, so Corrado wasn’t capable of seeing the way she shifted on her feet because the spot between her thighs was hot and aching for reasons she didn’t care to admit.
“And that’s what you want to keep doing with him?” she asked.
Corrado stilled on the bed, his gaze drifting from the black and gold trimmed comforter to where she still stood in the doorway. “No, not at all.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I found what I want, even if I didn’t realize I was looking for it. I don’t need to look elsewhere when it’s all right here, I need everybody else to figure it out now.”
Well …
That only made her more confused.
“He kissed me,” she blurted. “The day he came back, I was in the library, and he kissed me.”
Corrado nodded like he already was aware. “And did you like it?”
What?
She stayed quiet.
Corrado gave her another pointed stare. “Well, did you?”
“I did.”
“Good, think about that, and what it means,” Corrado said, gesturing at her doorway to add, “And if you’re not sleeping in here tonight, then leave the door open when you leave. Good night, Ginny.”
That was it—done.
Not that it left her with any more answers.
And she still didn’t know what to do.
Are you sure you want to do this, Les?
Dare’s words from their earlier phone call drifted through Alessio’s mind as he flipped over another sheet on the contract spread out across Corrado’s desk. Placing his hands to the edge of the curved, smooth wood, he took in the words in black ink, their ramifications not lost on him should he put his name on the dotted line.
It will require Subject One to commit to four years under contract with WHICHEVER bidder wins the bid on his or her person. No circumstances will void the contract before the four-year term is up unless or until the buyer is deceased, and in which case, Subject One may be transferred to someone of the buyer’s choice, if made before passing.
Four years of his life.
Auctioned to the highest bidder.
All the skills Alessio worked to hone over the years with The League came down to a ten-page contract that laid out every detail for him so that he had no questions left to ask. Until now, his career with The League had been as an independent contractor. A choice Dare and Cree allowed him to have because of their attachment to him, and it meant a lot.
Others didn’t get the same treatment. Mostly, people came to The League knowing what their fate would be—one year of training, and then the auctions came up where very rich and dangerous people bid on the members for four-year contracts. That’s how The League’s real money got made.
Alessio never had much interest in the auctions. Working alone, or with The League’s team that Cree had made, gave him enough freedom to do whatever he wanted. Something had changed over the last year, though, and he leaned towards the auctions as the yearly date neared for them.
Hence, the contract.
And his need for a decision, considering in two months, the auctions would happen. Dare would need to get his paperwork settled and put him on the roster for potential buyers to peruse before they went into the auctions. It was typical for a buyer to settle on which member they wanted before they ever even stepped foot inside The League’s building.
“With your varied skills,” Corrado said from the doorway of the office, “you’ll cause a bidding war, likely.”
Alessio had known Corrado was standing there from the moment he entered the room even if the man hadn’t made a noise. So was their fucking life together. He wasn’t able to even consider this alone because he had to consider everything else, too.
“Yeah, possibly,” Alessio muttered, “but that’s not a bad thing. Thirty percent of the final buyer’s cost goes to me, and the rest to The League. After four years, I wouldn’t have to take another job, if I didn’t want to. I could do … anything.”
“You have enough money to do that now.”
Another thing that wasn’t a secret between them. Alessio didn’t even hide how much fucking money he had spread across several portfolios because Corrado had details for all that shit, too.
“What do you want?” Alessio asked.
“To know if you will sign that and go up on the auctions.”
“Considering it.”
“I don’t want you to do it,” Corrado said.
Alessio’s shoulders tightened at that. “I’ve been saying for a year I wanted to do this, Corrado. It shouldn’t be a surprise now that I have the contract in front of me. If you had an issue with it, then you should have said something months ago. Not now.”
“Months ago I would let you do whatever you wanted to make this better for you. And sometimes, that meant you running away from me, right? Fucking off to work, or staying away from me because you didn’t want to deal with the shit you didn’t like at home.”
“Where in the fuck do you—”
Alessio turned to tell Corrado to go fuck himself, but stopped when he realized the man had crossed the office to stand right beside him. With Corrado this close, there was no mistaking that look in his eye.
That glint.
He wasn’t hiding shit.
It was all on the table, now.
“You only want to do this to get away from me,” Corrado said, not pulling any punches with each word he threw at Alessio, “the same way you take extra jobs, run with the second team when Cree allows it … you have to keep running away, Les, because you’re scared of what might happen when I catch up to you—when this shit between us comes to a head, right?”
Alessio straightened to his full height, realizing his pride could sometimes be just as much of a bitch as Corrado’s. “Or I want something different, yeah? Not everything is about you, Corrado, even if you want to make it that way.”
Low blow, Les.
He knew it.
That was the thing, though, if Corrado wanted to say shit that hurt Alessio, then the man better be damn ready to have it thrown right back at him, too. Alessio no longer understood how to survive the mess they’d created together, otherwise.
Was it healthy?
Not at all.
Not that it mattered.
The words were out there, now.
He blamed his attitude and mood on the fact he had been tiptoeing around Corrado for almost a week and a half. Shit was always better, and far easier, between the two of them when they were together, and close. Sure, those issues still existed, but at least he was able to tuck them away when they had each other to focus on.
Right now, they were focusing on the wrong shit.
Or it was right.
It just wasn’t easy.
Corrado didn’t seem bothered by Alessio’s words. He came back stronger for the second round, saying, “It’s true, you didn’t want all of this—our problems, the shit you weren’t getting from me—to come to a head, either, because you’re terrified of what might come after. So, you keep busy, you keep running … it keeps a distance between you and me, yeah. But then, you come back, and we have two weeks together.”
He let out a bitter laugh, so fucking dark and hurtful, adding, “But then we’re too busy focusing on being together, Alessio, because neither one of us like being apart, instead of all the shit that weighs us down. That’s why you want to do it.”
Fuck.
More than anything, Alessio wanted to deny what Corrado said to him. He wanted to tell him to shove his fucking assumptions up his ass and get out of his face. Except he couldn’t say any of that shit at all, even if he was mad—and Christ, he was so mad—because Corrado wasn’t wrong.
Nothing he said was a lie.
“You want to do the auctions because you need a new way to run, instead of staying here and handling the issues we’ve unpacked from the baggage we’ve been carrying for five fucking years,” Corrado uttered. “If you can do it to me, then the least you can do is say it, too. Just admit it.”
God.
Alessio dragged in a lungful of air that burned all the way in. “And if we didn’t have all this shit going on if we were good, Corrado … then what would you say about these auctions, and me going up for a buyer?”
Because that mattered, too.
“I would still ask you not to do it.”
Alessio’s jaw ached from how hard he was clenching his teeth. “Why?”
“Because they won’t give a fuck about you. You will be a tool, something for them to use. They will tell you where to go, and what to do. They will determine your worth, and the value of your life, by how valuable you are to them. You might die because someone figured you were just collateral, and that contract says it doesn’t matter.”
“Corrado—”
“That contract says someone can take you from me, and there’s not a fucking thing I will be able to do about it because you signed your goddamn name on it. And right now, the only reason you want to take that risk is because as much as you like to throw my bullshit at my feet, you’re still not ready to deal with your own.”
Why did he have to be like that?
Why did he have to be right?
“Okay?” Corrado asked. “Was that what you wanted me to say? Because fuck knows you still won’t let me tell you I love—”
Alessio’s hand hit the papers on the desk, sending them scattering everywhere. He didn’t let Corrado finish his statement before he spun on his heels and left the office without a look over his shoulder.
No, Corrado didn’t get to say those words.
Not yet.
They still struck like a fucking weapon.
Alessio wasn’t ready for the impact.
The music filtering out of the tiny speaker on the middle of the kitchen island had Ginevra dancing to the beat, a wooden spoon swaying with the rest of her body in her grip. She didn’t seem to care at all that Alessio sat at the right side of the island, a thriller opened in front of him, while she cooked and danced.
