Page 5 of Fallen Rook

Flash.

I frowned.

I know I said my dick always liked meeting new fans, but taking a picture with them wasn’t a part of the deal. Moreover, he didn’t ask for permission. It was definitely the kind of shit that needed to be greenlit.

“Uh…” I cleared my throat, not knowing the etiquette for admonishing a dude who had my dick in his mouth. “I’m actually not—”

He angled his phone up, now getting a frame with both my cock in his mouth and my face.

Flash.

Flash.

Flash.

He tucked the phone back into his pocket.

Oh, hell no.

“Bro, what the fuck?” I grabbed his shoulders, about to push him away, when the familiar, cold mouth of a gun was pressed against my thigh. Guess the bastard had it tucked under his jeans.

Great fucking job, asshole, I praised myself. Hope it was worth it.

I was being coerced, blackmailed, abused, and I had no way to stop this.

And now I knew why Cash sucked at sucking cock—he wasn’t here to seduce me, and probably not gay, either. This was a trap, and I fell right into it.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Cash released my dick from his mouth, staring up at me with a deranged glint I recognized as bloodthirst. Monsters had a way of recognizing one another in the dark. “I’m aiming at your femoral artery. If I blow it up, you’ll bleed out in three minutes flat.” He tsked. “I’d still get paid, but they want you alive.”

Who the fuck were they? I had too many enemies to choose from.

I reached for the switchblade in my hoodie, only to find the pocket empty. I stared at him, feeling the blood draining from my entire goddamn body.

Cash’s rancid laugh reverberated in my chest as he dug his gun deeper against my muscular thigh. “Got rid of it when I stumbled into you earlier. Clumsy me.”

Was he Bratva? Outfit? A rival Camorra gang from Naples?

Didn’t matter. I was in deep fucking shit. My blood stirred. I was going to disappoint my family, bring shame on the Camorra, and annihilate my reputation. If I made it out of this alive.

“Who sent you?” I growled. Not that it changed anything. He and I both knew I’d give him whatever the hell he wanted. Panic flooded me. I could hardly fucking breathe.

“I’m asking the questions here. Do your brothers know you’re here?”

I flashed him a cool, unruffled glare. What the fuck did he think?

“Do they know you’re gay?”

I didn’t answer.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.” He grinned cruelly. “Now, I’ll blow your fucking brains out if you don’t go to your new don, Luca Ferrante, and tell him—”

He never got to finish the sentence. A large pair of hands grabbed his neck from the depths of darkness and, in one quick motion, snapped his spine like a wishbone. Cash fell to the ground, his neck bent at an unnatural angle that confirmed he’d died at the hands of a world-class assassin.

I looked up, the tightness in my chest hardening into something even worse.

Fuck, who did this?

My hero and savior stepped from the shadows, staring down at me with those caustic, eerily blue eyes that always made my stomach twist with something sinister.