New Orleans I 18+

10. Love, Lust, Rejection

Scanning me leisurely he watched in something resembling admiration. "So, asking you to stop won't be effective then?" His warm rasp brushed over me, unable to string together a coherent sentence I simply nodded. Smirking he raised a thick eyebrow towards the ensuite. "Go get cleaned up." Although an order, it sounded more as though he were offering. Perhaps finally exhibiting a slither of chivalry the damaged criminal was giving me a chance to go conceal the visible signs of arousal I was sporting.

Striding over to the window, he leaned the side of his arm against the frame. Folding his arms, he crossed an ankle over the other. Muscles flexed and strained against the clearly outgrown T-shirt. He was a work of art for sure, too bad he was also a murderer.

Choosing not to argue on it, I shuffled into the ensuite. Stripping down I took a quick shower. Ice water did extraordinarily little to sate my current heat; I knew what would...moth to a flame much, my subconscious drawled reminding me that the aftermath could lay waste to a battlefield.

Returning to the bedroom, I found Reece tossing the butt of a cigarette from the window. Something in the atmosphere had shifted. Looking over his shoulder, the large man straightened. "Either you tell me, or I keep looking, Reece." Reminding him that I wouldn't stop, I hung my damp towel over the dresser.

Padding across the room, I looked him in the eyes. "Give me something." Swallowing he watched the floor. Scoffing I turned to leave.

"Your father made a lot of enemies. There's no such thing as out, for people like us. Your father's biggest mistake was thinking someone like him could have love, a wife; a family." Clenching his jaw, he laughed once without humour. "Innocents always pay the price for our sins." His sudden silence indicated that was all he would give me. For the moment, it was enough. Assessing the riddles, he'd offered I left him alone.

Finding my way to my father's study, I sank into his seat. "There's no such thing as out, for people like us." I didn't know a single thing about my father. The commonality Reece had insinuated between himself and the man I idolised left a sick taste in my mouth. Looking around, I flicked through a file on his desk. It was all a façade. It was a shiny layer of watered gold, masking the common thug he was. Disappointment riddled my insides. I felt like a hypocrite. Beyond that. I felt naïve.

My father had built an entire empire off the back of gangsters. His connection to the disreputable side of New Orleans made my skin crawl; yet for some fucked up reason I still couldn't believe it. If there was one thing I could attest to in my father's defence, it would be his morality. The man could cross any line but only on the basis of injustice. The jury was still out on whether or not that meant he was a good person. All I knew was I couldn't believe that he was a petty criminal.

Going through the documents on my father's desk and scanning the bookshelves for any incriminating evidence, I sat down against a wall. Nothing. Not even a sachet of cocaine. Sighing I dropped my head back against the plaster. Thinking to confront my big brother, I glanced over at the wall clock. Hours had passed since I'd left Reece and concluded my investigation within my father's study.

I couldn't be sure how much Alex knew, only that it was surely more than me. His anger earlier had me halting at the study door. Alexander D'Ambrosio's anger was rare however not fleeting in the slightest. This wasn't the right time. He wasn't only injured, but afraid. A combination of those emotions almost ensured I wouldn't make it past the threshold.

Returning to my room– my mind spinning and apparently adjusting to this being my new norm– I stepped into the dimly lit room. With nothing but a side lamp lighting the large space, I found a half-naked gangster occupying my bed.