by H M Wolfe
Brennan didn't reply, but his turquoise eyes were shining, lit from the inside. No one, until Peyton, had seen him like a normal, average twenty-one-year-old boy, with the dreams and aspirations of someone his age. No one, since his stepfather died, had taught him valuable life lessons like Ardan did. No one trusted him like Julien and Daniel. These people were his family, and to keep them protected, he was willing to risk everything.
Chapter 21
"I can't wait for the day when I become your husband, my sweet Gabriel," Philip said, taking the young man's hand and kissing it.
"Since you brought it up..." Daniel relaxed into the wooden, sculptured chair at the end of the table. "Tarquin and I consider a shorter engagement period, of only about six months. Of course, no naughty stuff until then, my son will continue to live with us." He cast a half-ironic, half-amused look in Philip's direction.
"But...six months is a very long time, and us staying separated despite being engaged, it doesn't make a lot of sense," the man protested. He was boiling with fury but somehow managed to keep it under control.
"Yes, my beloved husband and I thought about that, too, and we are giving you an early wedding present." Daniel's paternal smile was directed to Gabriel. "It's either a house in the neighborhood close to The Base or an apartment in the same building Hayden, Arnett, Justin and Marcus live in. Your choice."
"Wow, thank you, Papa, Dad." Gabriel left his seat at the table, hugging Daniel, then Tarquin. "You are the best, most generous and loving fathers ever! I choose the apartment, of course." He flashed a cute grin in the two men's direction.
"We thought you would." It was Tarquin's turn to talk, a warm smile brightening his soft, beautiful features. "There is one empty right now, and we thought you would want to furnish it according to your tastes...and Philip's, of course. Also, your father and I want to pay for furniture and whatever else you may need unless your fiance wants to contribute to the expenses."
"Money's not an issue," Gabriel's husband-to-be spoke in the calmest of voices, although he was boiling on the inside. "However, I'm afraid I have to turn down your offer, as the youth center I run is located too far from that apartment complex. The time I spend commuting..."
"We understand, and, again, we are willing to help." Daniel stared into the man's eyes. "Your center can easily merge with the one at The Base, which is more spacious and better equipped, not to mention the qualified staff there. What do you think?"
Philip looked at the two men, examining their faces and body language, in an attempt to detect possible signs of hostility towards him, but couldn't find any. Still, deep inside, he was convinced that they couldn't stand him and were only acting friendly for little Gabriel's sake. His trusted ally also warned him to be careful around them all, but especially around Daniel and that freak Ardan, with his strange eyes.
Dinner was taking too long, Philip sighed in annoyance, checking his wristwatch. The mercenaries and henchmen were all in position, waiting for his orders, but he couldn't risk an attack with all those ex-military men and highly-trained fighters, like that Leon Stanley and the hunks guarding the detested The Base. His hosts, however, showed no signs they wanted to put an end to the gathering.
Philip's trail of thought was interrupted by a group of teenaged boys, who stepped into the dining room to congratulate Gabriel on his engagement. One of them made him gasp in shock: he had snow-white hair and sapphire-blue eyes, exactly like the one who ran away from his associate's custody, and whom he was desperately looking for.
Frowning, Philip wondered if the kid was in the mansion all that time, and if so, why he hadn't seen him until then. It must have been because of that stupid custom all the members of the Stark and Bloom clans observed; the man clenched his teeth in frustration. It stipulated that the children ate separately from their parents and older relatives until they reached the age of eighteen, even on happy occasions like that party was supposed to be soon.
A thin, predatory smile spread on Philip's lips, as he thanked the forces of darkness for bringing the boy straight into his hooks. Taking advantage that everyone else was engaged in a lively conversation, he messaged his associate, waiting for further instructions. The man replied right away, telling him to focus exclusively on the attack that was planned for later that evening.
"Congrats on your engagement, once again, cousin," one of the older blond boys said, cutely grinning. "Can't wait for your wedding. I plan to dance like crazy all night long." He winked, suggestively undulating his hips.
"You're not the only one, kid," Philip replied, casting a suggestive look in Gabriel's direction. "I'm also looking forward to the day I will finally become one with the love of my life."
"Oh, that's so romantic," one of the younger blonds sighed. "I totally understand you, and I'm also looking forward to..." He stuttered to a stop after what he was about to blurt out.
"I'm a little tired, can we go home?" Cian sensed the danger, cutting his friend short. "Uncle Daniel, will you please let Brennan give us a ride?"
"Of course, how could I not?" The black-haired man gave him a warm, paternal smile. "Suddenly, the guy's every kid's favorite, threatening our positions in the hierarchy," he joked.
"Come on, gang, time to hit the pillows." The sixteen-year-old gestured to the main entrance. "Good night, everyone, party responsibly." He grinned, waving to the gathering.
"I can't believe that one." Lochlin pointed to Cian. "We went to congratulate Gabriel on his engagement, and he dragged our asses out of there, under the pretext he's tired." He stated, rolling his eyes.
"I had to," Ardan's son explained to an agitated, but very interested Brennan, "otherwise he would have gotten poor Lazarus in trouble."
The friendly banter between the boys continued for the rest of the ride, much to Brennan's amusement. The young man was very grateful to them for making him forget, even for a few minutes, about his problems, or better said the source of them, Fabian. Who, once again, had proved to be a goddamn liar. One who'd tried to trick him into doing his dirty work.
As Leon promised, he took Brennan to Eugene and pleaded his case passionately. What the former assassin had found out from the talk he and the media tycoon had, had shaken him to the core. The whole sob story about Elliott being held captive in a marriage with a ruthless Mafia boss was just a big pile of bullshit that bastard had shoved down his throat.
The voices and carefree laughter of the teens had a beneficial effect on Brennan's state of mind, and he was almost completely relaxed by the time they reached the destination. One by one, the boys hugged the driver good night, disappearing inside the safety of Ardan's house, much to his relief.
All the way back to the mansion, Brennan had a strange, nagging feeling that something terrible was going to happen that night. And, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get rid of it. When he arrived at the mansion, all the cars, except Eugene's and Ardan's, were gone, and the only window with the light still on was the one from Daniel and Tarquin's bedroom.
The young man parked the vehicle in the garage, then headed to the mansion, only to turn back and go to his own car, at the furthest end of the driveway, irresistibly drawing from there an impulse he couldn't explain. Opening the door, Brennan climbed inside, looking around a bit confused, until it came into sight.
The box his stepfather gave him on the fateful day he turned fourteen was still on the passenger's seat. He must have forgotten to take it into his room at The Base, the young man thought, caressing the delicate carvings, almost like lace, on the top of the box. It was an antique object, probably one of those possessions that were passed down to the next generation.
Suddenly, as if attracted by a magnet, Brennan's hands touched the box's top part, cracking it open. He wanted to close it, but his hands had a mind of their own, and they opened the box instead. The first thing that caught the young man's eyes was the neatly folded sheet of paper with his name on it, the painfully familiar, elegant handwriting bringing tears to his eyes. Wi
th shaky hands, he unfolded the letter and started to read it.
My dearest nephew,
If you are reading this, it means you have beaten the odds and survived, which I'm incredibly grateful for. It also means the true nature of our relationship is now revealed to you, and I'm finally allowed to call you what I've always wanted to, but couldn't. I want you to know your father, the man I admired and respected more than anyone in the world, loved you and your mother, my sister, dearly, and that's why he sent the two of you away with me as your protector, which I happily accepted. Your father, Godfrey MacNamara, was married before, to my other, older sister, Catriona, whom the vicious kidnappers of her young twin sons mercilessly killed, leaving him devastated.
After spending many years looking for the missing children, Godfrey was finally resigned, coming to terms with what happened. Eight years have passed since the events that shook us all to the core, and in the meantime, Leslie, your mother, turned from the awkward fourteen-year-old teen she was back then into a beautiful, brilliant, compassionate young woman. These qualities and an uncanny resemblance to our dearly departed sister attracted the attention of our widowed, grieving brother-in-law, who ended up falling in love with her. The day you were born was one of the happiest of our lives, but the peace was short-lived because your father's invisible nemesis started to threaten your and my sister's existence, so Godfrey sent us away, although it killed him on the inside. Now that you know who you are, I hope you'll be able to become reunited with your father and that you'll find it in your heart to forgive me for lying to you for so long.
One last word. A few months ago, your father received new information about one of his missing sons, Ardan. Rumors stated he's alive and was located in New York. External circumstances prevented Godfrey from verifying the stories, but if they are authentic, you won't be alone in the world, when the three of us are no longer among the living. Be strong, kind, generous, and give your brother the love he was most likely deprived of.
I have the feeling these are my last words to you, and I want you to know every moment I spent watching over and raising you was an immense privilege. Happy birthday, Brennan, dear nephew of mine! May the ancient gods guard your steps and watch over you.
Affectionately, your uncle,
Harris.
Finishing the letter, Brennan closed his eyes, breathing in sharply. Ardan was his brother, his blood, his family, and through him, all those who were present at the reception earlier that evening. Harris gave his life to protect him, and now he was ready to do the same if it was necessary.
CHAPTER 22
T arquin was rocking in his husband's lap, rotating his slip hips in a seductive rhythm, head on Daniel's shoulder. The black-haired man tenderly caressed the smooth, flawless skin on his lover's back, feverishly running his hands up and down, while he kissed the blond's chest, inch by inch.
Brought to the brink of ecstasy, Tarquin tilted his head backward, eyes half-closed, heavy with desire, and his lips slightly parted in an invitation to be captured, conquered, and savored. With a last, long, hard thrust, Daniel flooded his husband's tight channel, which was spasmodically clenching around him, the blond shooting his hot sticky cum across their stomachs between them.
With the softest sigh of contentment, Tarquin put his head on his soulmate's shoulder, inhaling the man's scent, his nostrils flaring greedily. He adored the sensation of peace and utter bliss that invariably took the two of them over right after the completion of their lovemaking, when the post-orgasm haze hadn't yet wholly dissipated, with their breath and heartbeat slowly coming back to normal.
Slipping out of his husband, Daniel carefully placed him on the bed, then stepped into the bathroom, cleaned himself, then returned with a damp, warm washcloth, and gently wiped Tarquin's flat abdomen and torso, smiling down at him. Then, he climbed onto the bed and pulled the covers over their naked forms, hugging the blond close to him.
"So, this is it; our sweet, little Gabriel will be a married man in six months." Daniel let out a heavy sigh. "I only hope that man makes him happy, as he deserves," the man whispered, a weak smile playing on his lips.
"The truth is," Tarquin started to speak in a guilt-ridden voice, "that none of us gave Philip a chance. In our minds, he was already found guilty and sentenced to life without parole. What if he's really the one for Gabriel?"
"You may be right, although I'm inclined to believe otherwise." Daniel sighed again. "Like Papa Giuseppe used to say que sera, sera, only time will tell. Let's go to sleep, my love, it was a long day."
"You're a perceptive man, Daniel Bloom, and a caring, supportive, understanding father. Because of that and a thousand more reasons, I love you until the end of the world."
A few minutes later, the black-haired man was looking at Tarquin's slim, sleeping form cuddled at his side, a serene smile on his face, thinking how lucky he was. Rolling to his side, he spooned the blond, wrapping an arm around his waist and closing the space between them. The even breath of his husband made Daniel relax, and he finally drifted asleep.
"How is he?" a harsh, flat voice reached the boy lying on the hospital bed, thirsty and in pain. "What the hell happened in there?" the voice continued.
"I don't have the slightest idea," another man's voice, a little less harsh, but also cold and insensible, answered. "It's never happened before; all the others reacted very well to the anesthetic. It could be because of the stuff we injected him with before. It could have triggered an extreme reaction, but..."
"Whatever," the first man cut him short. "I hope the...incident does not affect his recovery. I want him ready to be impregnated again in three months. This time, I want everything to go smoothly; no excuses will be tolerated."
"Um...excuse me, but I doubt very much he could get pregnant again," the second man replied in a slightly ironic voice. "Not with all the testosterone and other drugs from the other program the boy was in for a year. Even if the substances were out of his system, some of the changes they produced are hard to reverse."
"Could the baby's...defect be caused by those injections?" The first man cast a disappointed look in the direction of the crib placed next to the boy's bed. "I didn't pay a whole load of money for a flawed product," he commented acidly.
"I've told you before, the baby was tested when he was in the carrier's womb, and he's one hundred percent yours. The white hair is most likely a result of the great stress the carrier experienced throughout pregnancy," the other man explained patiently.
"I have no other choice but to believe you." The first man shrugged in defeat. "He will be much loved by that sentimental fool." His lips curled in a hideous rictus. "I'll name him Jeroen, after the founder of our dynasty. One day, you and I will rule the world, little one." He covered the baby's chest with his big hand.
Somehow, while he was sleeping, Daniel must have turned on his back because he woke up with a sensation of heaviness on his chest, and also found it hard to breathe. It seemed that Tarquin had the same problem because he was tossing and turning next to him. With his mind still hazed following the crazy dream earlier, it took him a little more than usual to realize what was happening.
The difficulty in breathing was because someone was pressing a pillow on his face, while other people, most likely strong men, were keeping him from moving. A terrifying thought crossed Daniel's mind, making him freeze for a brief moment: if the two of them were being attacked, the children were in danger, too.
Daniel couldn't allow that to happen, so he gathered all his strength and, with the force of a desperate man, managed to free himself from the restraining hands, fighting off his and Tarquin's attackers. The blond was fully taking advantage of all the self-defense lessons Ardan and Lothier had taught him over the years, expelling the attackers and giving Daniel time to retrieve their guns from where they kept them, far from the children's reach.
Two other men stepped into the room, joining the two husband's efforts of fighting off the attackers. They were none other than
Leon and Lothier, and, for a brief moment, Daniel wondered how they'd found out about the attack.
"Ardan had a bad feeling about this party and the bastard who'd wormed his way into Gabriel's heart, and insisted we should come back," Leon explained in one go.
"Where is he?" Daniel answered, knocking an attacker off with his gun. "I can handle them by myself, go cover Tarquin." He gestured to where his husband and Lothier were.
"Outside. There must be thirty motherfuckers, maybe more, around the house. Ardan called for backup, but it will take some time until the boys arrive."
"Let's take care of these bastards first." Daniel neutralized another threat with a strategically placed kick to the chin. "Once they are out of the picture, we can go outside and help him."
About half an hour earlier, Brennan had sat in his car, still unable to wrap his head around the revelations from his uncle's letter. He had a father who loved him dearly and an older brother whom he had started to admire, respect genuinely, and even envy, in an immeasurable way. That letter was the most valuable birthday present he had ever received, the young man thought, staring ahead, eyes brimming with happy tears.
Spotting Gabriel and his fiance holding hands, Brennan smiled to himself. The two of them couldn't help themselves and wanted to do the naughty before becoming officially husband and husband. He thought amused, watching how Philip impatiently started to undress his fiance. However, with a closer look, things weren't as romantic as he initially thought.
The older of the two was ripping his partner's clothes, overpowering him, Gabriel's attempts at defending himself becoming weaker by the second. Blood boiling, Brennan got out of the vehicle, running to the rescue. By the time he arrived at the place of the attack, Philip had already forced down his fiance's pants and underwear and was about to enter him.
With force increased tenfold by the rage burning inside him, he pried the attacker from the terrified young man, who was staring ahead, unable to react in any way. Holding the lapels of the aggressor's jackets with a steel grip, Brennan spun the man around so that he could face him. Eyes widening in shock, he recognized the twisted-minded monster who'd subjected him and all the others to those horrible experiments.
