Gilded Agony

by K. A. Merikan

  He had to make this right somehow.

  Chapter 12 - Domenico

  Domenico never liked computer games much. Sure, as a kid he used to enjoy the odd session of ‘Street Fighter II’ or ‘Super Mario’ like any other boy, but when graphics had become better, plots more complicated, and the familiar 2D designs transformed into multidimensional, confusing spaces, his interest had fizzled out. The simplicity of platform games offered a relaxing break from the dangers of real life, but with expanding plots and the addition of all other bullshit, Dom had forsaken his childhood ways.

  Besides, real guns were far superior to virtual ones.

  But that wasn’t to say that modern games were entirely without merit. ‘Thug 10’ offered Dom opportunities to do things he could not in real life. Not in El Encanto. Like driving really fast and crashing into pedestrians. Wearing clothes with ugly, flashy designs without feeling contempt for himself. Or chatting to Santo Villani without the chance of anyone finding out.

  V-Dawg, Domenico’s character in the game, was everything Domenico was not—low in intelligence and largely unsuccessful as a small-town drug dealer (because Domenico didn’t dedicate much time to gaining those precious experience points). He was also blond, tattooed, and wore a grill decorated with fake diamonds. No one would ever associate a piece of trash like V-Dawg with the sophisticated man Domenico was, and that was the whole point.

  Santo, on the other hand spent quite a lot of time in ‘Thug 10’, with his avatar’s giant villa growing and becoming sparklier every time V-Dawg visited.

  As little appreciation as Domenico had for the elaborate graphics or ugly music used in the game, he did relax after racing some cops and trampling a group of jogging fit-moms on the way. By the time V-Dawg parked his car in front of Diamond Sebastian’s gates, Domenico was ready to talk business.

  Since ‘Thug 10’ offered insights into befriended players’ status, Domenico knew Santo was online, likely expanding his new night club, but he was still relieved when Diamond Sebastian allowed him in. One time, when Santo hadn’t been in the mood, V-Dawg had been left waiting at the gates long enough that Domenico ended up getting dinner in the meanwhile.

  This time though, he was awaited, and one of Santo’s bodyguards (most likely some oblivious teenager from Kentucky) escorted V-Dawg to Santo’s office where a glittering chandelier almost blinded Dom in front of the screen.

  Santo’s character stood behind the desk, looking out onto his cocaine fields through the window.

  “Leave us, Paco420,” Santo said, and the bodyguard disappeared behind the door, closing it behind himself.

  Domenico adjusted the mic attached to his headphones and made his character approach the powerfully built middle-aged man, whom Santo chose as his avatar. “I’m happy to see you. Is the wife well?”

  “She’s already looking forward to Fashion Week in Milan. How are things?”

  Domenico had thought he was ready for this conversation, but now that he was facing Santo, as much at his mercy as he was at Raul Moreno’s, he felt physically sick. Still, he was responsible for the mess on his side of the ocean, and he only had himself to blame for the stolen shipment, even if technically he knew that it wouldn’t be possible to dedicate unreasonable resources to every single transport of weapons for Moreno or anyone else.

  “There’s been an issue.”

  Santo turned to him, strangely reminiscent of Dino Villani as Diamond Sebastian. “An issue?”

  Domenico exhaled, so quietly the mic wouldn’t pic it up. “The last shipment was intercepted. My men are dead, and at this point I see little hope that we can retrieve the stolen goods. I know this is not ideal, but if the Caiman doesn’t get what he’s owed, everything we built will start to crumble. He’s not a patient man.”

  “All of it was taken?” Santo’s character took out a cigar and started smoking, which meant the player hadn’t used the controller for over thirty seconds. Domenico imagined Santo pacing his living room back in Italy. “I will see how fast I can get my hands on more cargo, but what can you do to reassure me that this won’t happen again? You have no clue whatsoever who took it? Shit like this doesn’t just vanish.”

  Domenico rubbed his face, for once feeling small again, like when he still was one of many soldiers of the Villani family, with everything to prove. Being back in that position was a humiliation he wasn’t ready for. “I will escort it myself this time. And I do have leads, but it’s been a while. Those weapons can be anywhere at this point.”

  Santo’s character bobbed his head from his to side every time he released smoke. The movement became so hypnotic Domenico’s skin prickled when Santo finally spoke again.

  “Two weeks for the next shipment is the best I can do. And that’s half of it. The rest in another two weeks. You will have to appease the Caiman yourself. Though it’s not him bleeding money, so I think he can fucking wait.”

  Domenico swallowed, leaning back in his chair with relief flooding his muscles. “That is good news. I will make sure everything goes smoothly this time. And whoever took our cargo will pay. Maybe not today, but he will.”

  “They better. And you better have the cash to pay upfront, because I have to pass that to my suppliers. Has there been any movement on our other issue? I’ve had no new leads.”

  Of course. The topic of Mr. Tropico was back on the table, as if Domenico wasn’t humiliated enough about a shipment of guns stolen from under his nose and a loss of five million because of it.

  “No new leads since our last conversation. The man is a ghost.”

  [Paco420, please escort V-Dawg out], appeared on the screen.

  And with that, their private conversation was over. Domenico reined in the annoyance buzzing in his veins and only went offline once he was outside Diamond Sebastian’s property.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck,” he growled, tossing his headphones to the floor. The chair bent back, following Dom’s movements, and he spun himself around several times, hoping that nausea would somehow banish bad thoughts from his mind.

  What a cock-up.

  Domenico’s gaze trailed to the clock on the wall, and he cringed, knowing that he couldn’t put off going home any longer. Mark wouldn’t talk to him since last night. He did send the usual message that meant ‘I’m alive’, which came right after a similar one from Dana, but it did very little to improve Domenico’s mood. Mark would come around. It was Seth Domenico was more worried about. Seth, who’d become a barrier in the way of Dom’s fists for a reason so stupid Dom couldn’t come up with a sound excuse for his fury last night. It was as if the pent-up worry and stress all erupted in an explosion triggered by a tiny piece of rubble falling into the crater.

  He was on his way downstairs when a loud clicking of heels made him look down the corridor. Natalia sped so fast that at one point her foot slipped over the polished floor, but thankfully the long broom she was holding provided the much needed support.

  “Mr. Toro, can I have a word?” she asked, barely catching her breath when she caught up to him.

  Any other time, the afternoon would have been the worst moment for anyone to stop Domenico from going home, but tonight it provided a much-wanted delay. “Of course. What is it?

  Natalia rubbed her sweaty forehead, pushing back the dark strands of hair that escaped her trademark bun. “It’s about Lilli. You know, my oldest.”

  It was balls of steel that allowed Domenico keep his cool, because the one person he definitely didn’t want after him was the housekeeper, who somehow managed to keep this place together. And took care of the meals, and as evidenced by Dom’s takeover two years ago—poisons weren’t that hard to administer. “The one who cleans the pools?”

  Natalia exhaled, slumping her shoulders and cradling the broom to her chest. “That girl… I thought she would be more responsible when I asked you to offer her the job. I wanted to apologize for her leaving it so suddenly the moment she earned enough for the car she wanted.”

 
Domenico nodded, though the only reason Lilli could afford her new vehicle already was because he’d essentially paid for her silence about the whole thing. “You don’t have to worry about this at all. That's how young people are, and a pool cleaner is not irreplaceable.”

  He then changed the topic to the supplies she needed for the main house’s kitchen, but Domenico found himself alone again all too soon.

  The usual walk home felt like miles, and Domenico already anticipated finding Seth playing with his new crossbow while drunk, but he passed through the garden and didn’t spot his husband anywhere. When he entered the house, what greeted him first was a smell so familiar his knees got that bit weaker. Focaccia with thyme.

  It was like stepping into his mother’s kitchen after a long time abroad.

  Seth smiled at Dom widely from the dining table where he fiddled with an elaborate platter of foods laid out to scream ‘abundance’.

  “Hey, I’m almost ready,” Seth said with the smile never leaving his bruised face.

  Guilt twisted its way even deeper into Domenico’s gut, but faced with the feast, and with the smile he didn’t feel he deserved, he could only comply with whatever plan Seth had.

  “This … looks amazing,” he said quietly and approached the table with his hands tucked into the front pockets of his pants. Seth’s bruise was like a stain on Domenico’s soul. He’d put it there. On a man he’d sworn to protect from the ugly world of El Encanto. It turned out the biggest predator has been hiding at Seth’s side all along.

  Seth pointed to the olives. "These are the ones I pickled myself last year. They turned out amazing.”

  Next to cheese topped with walnuts lay bundles of grapes, sliced meats, and the focaccia, so fresh it was steaming. A few brioches filled a small basket along with a collection of little pots of jams and butter.

  “What’s the occasion?” Domenico asked, moving his fingertips along the backrest of the chair. Seth wore a tightly fitting T-shirt that showcased his lean muscles, the body shape that made Domenico salivate and wish to forever lay with his husband on cool sheets somewhere back in Italy.

  Seth shrugged, rearranging some of the salads and tomatoes before drizzling them with balsamic vinegar. “I just thought we had a rough start of the year and wanted to make up for it. You have time, right?”

  In that moment, Domenico would’ve even ditched Raul Moreno if he’d knocked on his door.

  “Of course,” he said, still unsure what to expect.

  Seth walked around the table and gave Domenico the sweetest kiss. As if nothing bad had happened yesterday, as if his face didn’t hurt anymore. “Have a seat then, pasta’s almost ready.” Seth pulled the chair out for Dom.

  Domenico watched him from up close, for a moment hesitating when Seth gave him an expectant look and tapped the chair, but he went in for a hug in the end. Cheek pressed to Seth’s bruise, he pulled him in even harder. “I’m sorry about last night. I’m … things have been so tense that I snapped.”

  Seth instantly responded with a firm hug of his own. In moments like these Domenico was surprised by Seth’s strength and wondered how much capability was packed into those muscles after another two years of extensive training.

  “I know. I mean, I don’t know the details, but I’ve overheard there was some trouble with that shipment before Christmas. I want you to relax here with me.” The way Seth slid his big hand to the back of Dom’s neck would have made him purr, were he a cat.

  Domenico exhaled and shut his eyes, resting his forehead on Seth’s shoulder and savoring the warmth, the care streaming from Seth’s warm arms. The itch to tell him more about Moreno’s silent threats, about Santo, about the sense of failure, was like a splinter of wood lodged deep under Domenico’s nail. But Seth didn’t need to worry about Dom. He needed a strong man in charge, not a whiny ball of stress.

  “It’s going to be fine.”

  Seth pulled away, only to give Domenico another kiss while gently pulling the band out of his hair. “Come on, sit. It’s all for you,” he said with a grin.

  Not long after, Domenico sat at the table in front of a bowl filled with homemade pasta. Sprinkled with olives and sundried tomatoes, served with a glass of wine, dinner was heaven. Domenico wasn’t even sure what he wanted to stuff his mouth with first, especially since, for once, Seth was so completely there with him, keeping the conversation light and delicious, without putting any pressure on Domenico. Almost as if there weren’t secrets hanging over the table, as heavy as Santo’s digital chandelier would have been if it were real.

  In their happy bubble flavored with homemade food and warm from their hands touching, such dangers didn’t exist, chased away by Seth’s smiles and the tempting tickle of his foot along Dom’s shin. Throughout the meal, they gravitated closer, and by the time they fed one another dessert, Seth was all but sitting in Domenico’s lap like the most loving of cats.

  “I think you deserve something for your hard work,” Seth said and tickled Domenico’s chin. “It would be all about you,” he added in a whisper as if he weren’t a filthy fucker who liked his sex rough and dirty. There was something endearing about it that pulled at all of Domenico’s heart strings.

  “Really? You wouldn’t mind at all if I didn’t let you come?” He leaned over Seth and placed his hand over Seth’s groin without thinking. His fingers moved over Seth’s steel-encased dick and gently pulled on it. So far, he hadn’t left Seth hanging, mercifully giving Seth orgasms after prolonged teasing. He’d fantasized about having this kind of power but now that it was in his hands, he didn’t have the heart to leave his lover with aching balls. Maybe tonight would change things.

  “N-no,” Seth whispered, sliding his hand to Dom’s side. His fingers were like matches, already burning against Domenico’s flesh.

  Dom nodded, his eyes never leaving Seth’s. “I do like the sound of that,” he whispered in a low voice.

  The trust in Seth’s chocolate eyes when he nodded made Domenico’s heart race. Even when away, he was in control, the only one able to give Seth an orgasm. Seth sliding closer, for a deeper kiss was pure perfection. There would never be another man in Domenico’s life, no one could ever replace Seth. Caring, warm and sweet, yet strong and so masculine it felt like a privilege every time Seth invited Domenico between his legs.

  “Tonight, only your pleasure matters,” Seth whispered into Domenico’s lips, already unbuckling his belt in a promise of pleasure to come.

  Domenico pushed his hand down Seth’s pants and cupped the hard steel that was oddly warm around the thick cock and the fuzzy balls that were all his. Only his. Seth’s sigh was like a cloud of pheromones blown straight into Domenico’s face. With his thoughts becoming erratic, he pulled his lover closer, knowing he would soon entangle himself with the man he loved so much there were times watching Seth made his heart ache.

  “I’ve been dreaming of this all day. And every time you’re away, all I can think about is that you will come back to me,” Seth said, but no matter how much Domenico wanted to lose himself in those words, he still remembered that in the morning Seth had pretended to be asleep so that they wouldn’t have to face each other. Now that Seth was back in his arms, the earlier rejection appeared more hurtful, even if earned.

  He gasped, sucking in air from Seth’s mouth. “Everything I ever do is for you. Every minute of my life is dedicated to keeping you safe and happy. Even if I fail you sometimes.”

  “I know.” Seth kissed Dom’s jaw, grinding against his hand while he opened Dom’s zipper. “I try to be what you need me to.”

  Seth’s stubble rubbing against Domenico’s shaved skin was pure heaven. With a shudder jolting through his body, Dom pressed tighter into Seth, gasping against the plump, delicious lips.

  “All I need is you. You’ve kept me alive all this time…”

  “I’m just the catering guy, remember?” Seth laughed, but Domenico was so in tune with him he could sense something was off. He just couldn’t put his finger o
n what it was. Thinking rationally became that much harder when Seth slid to his knees in front of Dom and looked up at him as if nothing bad had ever passed between them. As if the bruise wasn’t the product of Domenico’s violence but some kind of freak accident they could both laugh off.

  “You’re definitely not just that.” Domenico pulled Seth close and drowned in the heat of his body. “But I’ve been thinking, and maybe that charity cookout you wanted to do isn’t such a bad idea.”

  Seth smiled and leaned forward to kiss the bulge in Dom’s pants. “Only when everything else you’ve got going is settled. I don’t want to put even more pressure on you.”

  Domenico exhaled, spreading his thighs farther and gently rubbing Seth’s bruised cheek with his knuckles. “Thank you. That’s very thoughtful. Once everything settles down, I promise I’ll be there with you.”

  Seth nodded quickly, stroking Dom’s thighs with his thumbs and placing another kiss of those hot, plump lips above Dom’s cock, just off the waistband of his underwear. “I want that so much.”

  Domenico leaned back, intent on memorizing every second of this encounter. He lifted his hips and lowered his pants that bit farther, finally pulling out his stiffening dick. The way Seth’s eyelids fluttered when the musky scent of Dom’s arousal drew him in was what Domenico’s most intimate dreams were made of.

  He took a fistful of Seth’s hair, noting how the gesture made that beloved face flush. Brown eyes glistened with sweet submission. Domenico grabbed his cock and pumped it in front of Seth’s face, making him watch without the chance of tasting his prize just yet. The pleasure of teasing him was even greater tonight, because Domenico knew Seth himself couldn’t get hard or come until Domenico freed his dick from the device. With the cock cage in place, Seth was slave to Domenico’s will.

  Seth’s nostrils flared, and he stuck his tongue out in a desperate attempt to reach it. There was no man more handsome than Seth when he lost himself to lust.