by J. C. Owens
The grip of that powerful hand, the way the muscles of the arm delineated as he was pulled up and out of the water with little effort, the feel of those long fingers wrapped around his own… All these were gems beyond price.
Enzo shook his head, before turning away to grasp a pristinely white towel that lay over a nearby chair.
He toweled his hair, but did not attempt to dry himself elsewhere, simply wrapping the towel around his waist, the white stark against his bronzed skin. Chase followed his motions with his own, though he quickly toweled his torso enough that he could put his T-shirt back on, his modesty appeased.
Enzo laid a hand on his shoulder, his face more closed now than it had been in the pool, as though he had remembered they had an avid audience.
“I hear Ms. Granger has made your favorite dish. Noi mangeremo, sì? And you will tell me of your day. Then shall I return to the party.”
Chase nodded, shooting a trepidant look to the nearby chaise that held Stacey. She was watching them, a hint of anger in her expression, something that chased away her blatant beauty and made her seem older, more grasping.
“My love, you cannot mean to leave our party. I have food ready. Surely even he is capable of eating alone, is he not?”
Enzo had been listening to her courteously enough, but her last words made his eyes narrow, the shadows flare to life with frightening speed.
He went to her, a half smile upon his lips, and she smiled back victoriously. He bent to kiss her, then held her head in his hands so only she could see what lay in his eyes. Only she and Chase, who was nearest, could hear his words.
“Do not think ever to control me, my lovely one. Despite what you hold for me, that would be a very, very large mistake, hmm?”
Her body stiffened. She managed to nod, never taking her suddenly fearful eyes from Enzo’s, like a rabbit huddling before a wolf.
He kissed her forehead and released her, his expression pleasant and relaxed once more, as though the incident had never occurred.
“I shall return soon, sì?”
Stacey nodded again, obviously struggling to control her expression so that the guests would not realize her faux pas. She had stepped over a line and received a small rake of the dragon’s claws for the trespass.
Chase wanted to feel sorry for her, but she had best learn now, before…
He followed in Enzo’s wake, clenching his teeth.
Dear God, please don’t let them get married. He could not imagine having to live here and watch Enzo love someone else. It was hard enough now, though Stacey rarely seemed to visit. It always seemed to be Enzo going elsewhere to meet her. Whether that was her choice or Enzo’s remained to be seen, but he could not imagine the Martinelli going out of his way for anyone, much less answer a woman’s beck and call. Therefore it had to be Enzo’s will that kept her from the villa, and he could only be grateful.
Enzo gestured to Raymond, and the PA gave a nod. He would circulate, keep things in line until his boss returned. Chase shivered. Sometimes he felt that Raymond was far more dangerous than Sergei and the others, if for no other reason than people underestimated him. Of an age with Enzo, short, slim, with pale gray eyes and a pleasant—if not handsome—face, he had a talent for blending into the background, something that must be of great use to the Martinelli. Raymond was his second set of eyes and ears. From what Chase had overheard, the man was a martial arts expert, had even taken Sergei down now and then. Chase always felt inadequate in the man’s presence, though Raymond had never indicated he disliked Chase in the least.
He was relieved when they passed out of sight of the party and into the kitchen. Ms. Granger looked over her shoulder, her eyes lighting when she saw them.
Enzo laid a kiss upon her cheek before seating himself at the small table. “I hear there is lasagna to be had?”
Ms. Granger bloomed, pleasure radiating from her smiling face.
“There is, Mr. Martinelli. I made it for Chase. But I thought you would be eating at the party.”
Enzo made a dismissing gesture with one hand. “And miss your lasagna? Ms. Granger, I am not a foolish man.”
She shook her head at him, still smiling. “No, sir. I will just put some garlic bread on. It will only be a few minutes.”
Enzo leaned back in the chair, the picture of relaxation. “Do not worry. The young one and I have much time.”
Chase felt his muscles unwinding as he took a seat opposite Enzo. So, it seemed he would not be rushing back to the party. Whether it was because he was punishing Stacey or because he simply wanted to stay was hard to tell.
Either way, he had Enzo practically to himself, and he treasured every moment.
“Cosi, ragazzo mio, how was school?”
Chase tried to look positive, but his eyes gave him away as always, and Enzo frowned.
“Most of my classes are great,” he hurried to clarify. “It is just my English teacher is being…odd. My marks are falling.”
Enzo leaned forward, crossing his forearms on the table, his dark eyes intent. “Odd? Who is this teacher?”
“Mr. Wayson. He was fine at the beginning of the year and then…” Chase paused, wondering if it was wise to speak of any of this. He blushed at his own thoughts.
Enzo watched him with that motionless intensity that was so unnerving.
“Chase?” The tone held command.
“He was OK and then he found out I was…” he choked off, looking anywhere but his mentor. “Gay. He found out I was gay.”
Chase wondered if he could just slide under the table. Surely Enzo would not be disgusted. His own brother, Kirith, had chosen a man for his life partner. But still, to admit this in front of the man he so desired…
The Martinelli raised an eyebrow. “And this should affect your marks in what way, i giovani? You are telling me this man marks work based on sexual preference? Have you complained to the head of the school?”
“I tried. He just shrugged, said that they would look into it. They offered to switch classes, but it would not fit with the rest of my schedule.”
He saw the look in Enzo’s eyes. “But it’s fine. I am almost finished, and my marks were high enough in the beginning that I should be able to pass, and that is all that matters.” He did not know if he was trying to persuade himself or his guardian.
“I have read your essays. They are good—better than good. If you were not interested in architecture, I would say you could have a career in writing, sì? Therefore your work should be graded as to its own worth, not what your teacher deems through his own prejudice.”
Chase fiddled with the silverware. “Are you OK with…” he waved one hand rather helplessly, “what I told you?” His heart felt like it could pound out of his chest. If Enzo rejected him…
The Martinelli gave a small smile, tilting his head as he viewed Chase’s flushed features. “That you are omosessuale? I have known that for some time. It is hardly a shock and certainly nothing to judge you on. Did you think I would do otherwise?”
“No, not with Kirith and everything, but…I am not really a Martinelli.” He bowed his head, unable to look at his face.
“You are a member of this family if I say you are.” Enzo’s tone held no compromise or doubt.
Chase tried to smile but it was tenuous. “I keep thinking you are going to see the real me, and then you will toss me out on my ass.”
Enzo tsk-tsked, but there was a small smile at the corner of his lips. “We have gone over this. You are one of us now, there will be no tossing.”
He had to grin at that, finally finding the courage to look up. Enzo’s expression held no difference than before, no judgment.
“Thank you, even though that seems totally not enough for what you do for me.”
Enzo nodded, not trying to shrug off his statement. “I do not need gratitude. I only need to see you start your life. That will be your gift to me.”
He nodded. “I won’t let you down.”
Enzo’s eyes seemed t
o soften more than Chase could ever remember seeing, except perhaps with Kirith and Laura. “I know you won’t.”
Those few words buoyed Chase’s confidence as nothing else could. Enzo believed in him and had accepted he was gay without any sort of prejudice. The day seemed brighter already.
Ms. Granger bustled over, laying down generous helpings of lasagna and slices of freshly baked bread before each of them. “Grazie.” Enzo smiled, picking up his fork and digging in with evident enjoyment. Chase had to force himself to pay attention to his own meal; his fascination with each and every thing that Enzo did was bordering on the extreme. He tried to act normally, to keep everything he was feeling off his face.
“Stacey says she is carrying my child.”
The casual words dropped like stones into the room. There was a crash from the kitchen, and Chase choked on his mouthful, having to grab a napkin as he coughed helplessly, eyes watering.
Dear God. He could not have heard that. Please don’t let it be true.
He took a deep drink of juice, then sat trying to breathe, watching through incredulous eyes as Enzo continued to eat with calm aplomb, as though he had not just changed the world, or at least this corner of it.
The potent silence from the kitchen said more than words ever could.
“She is pregnant?” Chase almost whispered, and he clenched his fingers under the tabletop, desperately attempting to hide his horror.
Enzo shrugged. “She says she is.”
He had to ask, to find out the worst.
“You are going to marry her then?” He could hardly believe how steady his voice was.
Enzo finished his mouthful and wiped his lips with a napkin, a frown settling on his brows, more of thought than true anger.
“No, not yet. Once the child is born and it is proven mine, then we shall see.”
He found himself able to breathe again. Surely something would come along to change the course of this travesty. Enzo deserved to be loved—and Stacey loved nothing but his wealth and power. Why did Enzo not see that?
The answer was clear enough, certainly so to Chase, who had studied Enzo so diligently. Over two years, it had become greatly evident to him that Enzo had no idea what love truly was, certainly not between lovers. The Martinelli loved his family—Kirith and Laura—with deep intensity, but even then, Chase did not believe that Enzo understood what it was he was experiencing. There had been a parade of women during his stay, but only Stacey had become more than a one-night stand. Enzo was generous enough to his lovers, with everything besides his heart. Even with Stacey, Chase had seen nothing but a kind of tolerant amusement, nothing of true connection.
He wanted so much more for this man. He wanted him to be loved for who he was, not what he was. Who else was going to give that but Chase himself?
But such feelings had to be kept under wraps. If Enzo even suspected, things would become so uncomfortable that he would have no choice but to move out.
That scenario was both attractive and horrifying. Attractive because he would be free of this unending obsession, with the chance to create a normal life. Horrifying because he could not imagine his existence without Enzo nearby.
He laid his aching head on one hand. He was fucking hooped.
Chapter Three
Chase was a complicated little package, Enzo mused as he finished his lasagna. He was well aware that Stacey and the boy did not get along and that was one of the major bones of contention between him and the woman who could end up being his wife. It was why he seldom invited Stacey to the villa. Tanglewood was Chase’s home; he should feel safe here. It was important to him on a level he did not truly understand. The boy had been through too much already; he needed security above all, and Enzo was going to provide that security, see the boy safe so that he had a foundation to step from in his life.
As for Stacey—she was beginning to become a problem, and if she continued, she would be finding herself sequestered somewhere far away until the child was born. He considered the notion for some time. He was well aware she wanted him for his money and position; he expected nothing else of a woman. But that she was growing possessive and hostile toward Chase…
That he would never permit.
He did not trust Stacey as a stable influence whatsoever, but she was good-looking enough and had a certain cold intelligence that would mesh well with his own. The children created would be perfect for governing the family.
He sat back in his chair and considered the matter for some time before his eyes fixed upon Chase’s woebegone expression as he poked at his food.
He smiled at the boy’s simplicity.
“She is not moving in here. Do not worry. I would not inflict her moodiness upon you.”
Chase looked up, hope evident in his eyes. “Would you still live here though?”
Enzo finished his juice and set aside the glass.
“I have no intention of ever living with a wife, my boy. I saw enough of that with my father. She cannot bear you children if you end up killing her.”
Chase stared at him, and Enzo was struck anew at how amazingly innocent the boy seemed, despite his background. Innocent enough that he was still shocked by his close relationship to death in all its forms.
It was yet another reason to keep him safe.
He did not question his need to care for Chase. Something about the horror of Kirith and Laura’s kidnapping, and Chase being included in the rescue, brought out his fiercely protective streak. He had to make all of that right once more. He did not feel the need to search too deeply for the cause of his feelings for Chase. They simply were, and that was that. Others found it odd, as his uncles surely did, their comments leading perilously close to angering him more than was wise.
A shout from outside took his attention, a loud thump against the side of the house making his eyebrow rise. Chase tensed beside him, still so afraid of conflict.
He frowned, rising to his feet. Chase should never be afraid, not here, not in his own home. He shot a warning glance at the boy, making sure he stayed where he was, out of harm’s way, before he stalked to the double glass doors that led to the patio area and swung them open with anger barely shielded.
His gaze swung over the area, swiftly analyzing the situation.
The women were gathered to the right of the pool, several pressed close to a tiny Asian woman, who had tears in her eyes.
To the left, there were two groups embroiled in a scuffle. Most of the guests had moved back and away.
His livid gaze caught and lingered on one particular individual, his temper rising.
Of course, it would be Ilario. Who else?
He strode forward, his bare feet soundless on the stone.
Raymond stood in front of John Cho, holding him back, obviously trying to calm things down, while Enzo’s ignorant pup of a cousin, Ilario, stood shouting insults, handsome features twisted in fury, a livid mark upon his cheek testament to an ugly encounter. Sergei was holding the young man back, and the disgust in his expression only reinforced his initial impression that this was all Ilario’s fault.
“Silence!” His voice cracked over them. An instant uneasy quiet fell upon them as they watched his approach.
“I cannot step out for five minutes before disputes take place?” His gaze pinned his cousin before sliding to Cho.
The thirty-five-year-old, head of his operations in Asia, shook off the guards and straightened his suit, sending a rage-filled glare in Ilario’s direction, before bowing his head slightly to Enzo. “I am sorry, my friend, but he has been harassing Jen despite everything she has done to discourage him, and then he pinned her up against the wall when she went inside to the washroom, tried to grope her.” He snarled then, fists clenching. “So I fucking hit him, and now he acts like he should be safe from retribution. Because he is a Martinelli.”
Enzo turned to face his cousin, feeling rage trickling through his control. He stalked forward, and Ilario’s eyes widened a moment before he backhanded hi
m. The young man stumbled to the side from the force, only Sergei’s grip keeping him on his feet.
“Idiota! You dare to disrespect Joe’s wife, here, at my home! And then use our name to justify your actions! You earn that name, and so far, I have seen nothing, absolutely nothing, to tell me you are worthy of it. I have given you warnings before. No more. You get your carcass off of my property and don’t return. I will tell your father of your actions, and he better give you a beating, or I will.” He grabbed the twenty-year-old and hauled him up to meet him face to face. “If I come across you abusing our name again to cover your stupidity, I will personally end you. Capisce?”
Ilario nodded frantically, sweat trickling down his face.
Enzo tightened his fingers, part of him ready to punish the boy further, but gradually his madness faded to where he could feel the weight of eyes upon him. He could make an example of his cousin, here and now, renew the fear that others felt toward him…
Then he remembered Chase, probably watching, and his fury waned abruptly. He cast Ilario from him, back into Sergei’s less-than-gentle grip.
“Get him out of here. He is no Martinelli I will acknowledge.”
He watched Sergei drag the pale-faced young man away, before turning back to Joe, who now had Jen sheltered under his arm, the small woman clinging to him.
“I apologize, my friend. He is a fool, but never would I have thought he would be a suicidal one.” He bent to Jen, taking her hand gently in his and kissing the back with courtly reverence. “I am so sorry that this happened here, to you. My guests are supposed to be safe. He will never be in your presence again. And if he should ever try to contact you in any form, I will see a final justice done.”
Jen blushed, looking up at him through thick black lashes, her small face so perfect, rather like a delicate porcelain doll. “Thank you, Mr. Martinelli. I should have come to you earlier and this would never have happened, but I thought he might realize how foolish he was being.”