"Now then.. go out with me.."
The entire space inside the ruined restaurant of hotel Valgrande, stilled.
Even the air seemed to hesitate.
Tony's voice wasn't even that loud.
But somehow, the wind carried it, slicing clean through the blood, the bullets, shattered glass, debris and confusion.
Angel could only blink, as did everyone else inside the restaurant..
If only the earth could open and swallow him whole—Angel would gladly go down without a damn fight.
'This guy has nerves of steel! This bastard!'
The silence, coupled with the stunned, almost comical expressions of the two witnesses, made Angel even more tongue tied and mortified.
"W-wha..what?" Angel whispered.
His face bloomed red, a furious red, like vivid roses.
His fingers curled into the hem of his white dress shirt.
It suddenly felt a thousand times too thin.
Too short.
Too transparent.
Tony grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos he'd unleashed.
Unbothered by the soft gasps and wide eyed stares, he leaned forward with a voice like sin.
Low, like a purr.
Seducing.
"Your cheeks get red like that…"
Tony paused, then smirked—while Angel held his breath.
"...every time I lick and suck you…"
Angel almost fainted.
"....don't they?"
A soft scandalized gasp left him.
"T-tha..that.. that's not true! What are you saying, you mad man?!"
Panicking, Angel turned to the shocked faces of the onlookers, defending himself:
"Ha-ha! He's only joking! W-we don't have that kind of relationship! W-we only just met tonight and he's just.. funny, right? HA-HA-HA!"
He forced a laugh, all the while his eyes were getting bigger at Tony.
As if telling him to shut up or to agree.
But Tony only tilted his head, amused.
"What do you mean we've only just met tonight? We've known each other since a month ago.. And I'm not joking—"
Angel hurled a piece of wood—that he had seen earlier—at Tony, desperate to shut the bastard's dirty mouth.
But Tony dodged with a whistle—clearly impressed by Angel's aim.
"Damn, that's really hot, babe."
A groan interrupted them.
Not from pain—but from disbelief.
The old man, still bleeding profusely, exhaled like someone who just witnessed a car crash in slow motion.
He can feel his blood pressure rising—if he had some blood left.
Then, in a low, firm voice, he asked:
"What's your name, boy?"
Angel looked like someone had unplugged his brain.
He hadn't expected that question.
"Wha—uh—Angel. Sir. Angel Dolci."
The Don closed his eyes as if summoning a distant memory.
"Dolci.. Angel Dolci.. Where have I heard that name, hmmm.."
His old gray eyes opened and landed on Angel again.
"What did your parents do?"
Angel opened and closed his mouth like a fish, completely thrown by the question.
'I swear this old man must be somehow related to that lunatic Tony. None of them make a lick of sense!'
But Angel still tried to answer.
"They.. um.. they owned a restaurant. In Florence. Sir."
Tony was still grinning like the devil, cradling his bloodied old man—clearly enjoying the question and answer like he was watching a goddamn movie.
The old man inhaled and was about to ask another question—but Angel beat him to it.
"Please, save the interrogation for after you're done bleeding like a stuck cow," Angel's mouth also had no filter.
The Don shut himself up immediately.
Eyes narrowing.
Whether he was annoyed or impressed by Angel's spunk, he was the only one who knew.
"I'm coming over right now!" Angel announced, before dropping to all fours.
He started crawling.
And Tony?
Of course he watched.
He watched as some glass cracked under Angel's knee—stopping his cute little movement before continuing again
His silver eyes darkened.
Lips parted.
Trying to settle where he sat, cradling his grandfather—but it was proving to be hard.
He was worried, as he watched Angel crawl—oh painfully slow.
And then, a flying feather got stuck on his mussed hair.
Tony was enchanted.
And disturbingly hard.
Don Leon was now giving Tony a scolding look, scowling like he'd aged ten years in five minutes.
But Tony didn't meet the old man's eyes.
He could only see one person.
"Christ, you're making me hard again, babe."
Don Leon coughed violently.
Small amount of blood splattering.
"Goddammit Antonio. Shut up. Did Leandro never teach you manners? Your mouth is absolutely vile!"
"I got it from you old man," Tony muttered.
But Angel still heard it.
'Antonio?' Angel thought.
Eyes flicked from the old man on Tony's lap, to Tony, and then the other young man across from them, cradling someone else.
'So..Tony is short for Antonio? Who are these people? Are they all related?' Angel studied the old man's gray eyes.
Then Tony's silver ones.
Then the other young man across the room.
'I bet the unconscious one also had gray or silver eyes, they all looked just like Tony—just older or younger.'
Angel's brain began racing.
'Then.. are they all mafia? Related to the Luchese?'
His eyes darted around, searching for Don Federico, who'd been asking for help earlier.
But Angel couldn't find him.
'He's gone.'
But Angel was too distracted to care.
'Then, Tony.. Antonio.. whatever the hell his name was.. is he also a Luchese?'
He kept thinking.
'Then what the hell am I doing here? Should I really be saving a mafia boss's life?'
He eyed the old man and Tony.
'Shouldn't I be running right now? There were no suits when I woke up earlier.. after.. after—' Angel's cheek flared red again.
'After 'that' happened and Tony left..'
When he woke up earlier, he was in a different room than where he'd fallen asleep.
And Tony was gone.
'He left..'
He looked for Tony immediately and for some reason, Angel felt a hollow ache in his chest.
He'd opened the door.
No one was outside.
No Tony.
No suits.
No nothing—not even a maid.
It felt like the perfect time to run.
Except.. his pants and shoes were missing.
Only the dress shirt remained and the red silk sheets from his hotel room where he stayed for almost a month.
'Should I be thankful that he put my briefs back on?'
Angel thought, mocking himself.
'So why didn't I run yet? Why am I still here? And why did I come looking for him after hearing some commotions down here?'
Then his gaze found Tony's.
Those silver eyes looked like they were undressing Angel.
'I should be running..'
He gulped involuntarily.
'But I don't want to.. not without him..'
Then he faltered while crawling.
His face flushed again.
'You demon,' Angel remembered Tony's love confession from earlier.
'Is it really true? He said he loves me? Or is it just a slip of the tongue? A ploy to bed me?'
He swallowed hard.
Remembering the heat.
The way Tony claimed him with kisses and his body.
'Dammit.'
He cursed the man inwardly—and kept crawling, past overturned tables and chairs and shattered glass.
'It's hot,' he gulped.
When Angel finally reached them, Tony leaned closed and whispered loudly in his ears.
"I almost came, amore… watching you crawl.. God, you look so fucking sexy."
Don Leon sighed like the weight of three generations disappointed him.
"Dammit Antonio, stop talking like that to my doctor."
Angel blinked.
"Doctor?"
"I'm hiring you now," the Don said. "..to be my personal doctor, once you graduate."
Then Don Leon added, muttering, "Once I'm not dying."
"That's not possible old man," Tony cut in, "..he's my future doctor.."
Then he winked at Angel.
Don Leon could only scowl.
But deep inside, he had seen it.
His grandson's face.
The same wild eyed intensity he saw once, in the boy's face when his twin died.
Don Leon could feel his heart twisting, not just from the blood loss.
'It wasn't anger,' he thought.
'It looks like this boy,' Don Leon eyed Angel, '..can heal Antonio's broken soul.'
He sighed.
'And it looks serious.'
His eyes watched his grandson's face.
'I have no right to judge if their love is wrong or right.'
He clenched his fist, or at least tried to, but he was too weak.
'And..I don't want to see the boy break down like that again.'
He eyed Angel again, 'So I'm hiring you in the future to protect you.'
Angel, whose face was still a furious red like a tomato, felt the Don's heavy gaze—but pretended not to notice.
'They're definitely related. Damn them! They all have the same weight in their stare.'
'And the craziest is this man!'
Angel looked at Tony's smiling face.
Something softened inside him.
'He's a handsome devil.'
Then Angel reached the edge of his dress shirt and was about to take it off.
"Don't!" Tony suddenly growled, "What the hell are you doing?"
"I-I'm gonna tear it to make bandages," Angel was confused, then he looked up at Tony, "Why?"
Tony's gaze dropped at Angel's chest, and lingered there before looking in Angel's eyes.
"If you tear that shirt, they'll see you," growling again.
"I'll fucking kill anyone who looks. Your body, your soul, your everything—it's mine."
Angel and Don Leon stared at Tony with the same look on their face.
"You absolute psycho!"
"If you need to make bandages, I'll give it to you," then Tony shrugged off the suit jacket he 'borrowed' from one of Angel's guards from earlier.
"I'll tie him, tell me what to do."
Angel nodded, composed himself, and got to work.
Hands steady.
Blood soaking into his fingers, as he tended to the old Don.
Tony followed Angel's instructions.
Even went inside the kitchen to search for a first aid kit.
Hands working.
Ears listening.
But his eyes never left Angel.
In that moment, the world faded.
There was only blood, breath and survival, and.. Angel.
Then—
Dozens of cars bulldozed into the courtyard.
Crushing umbrellas.
Skidding to a halt right in front of the wall glass entrance.
Engines roared and doors flew open.
Gray, and black suits, and people wearing vests emerge.
And just like that, the Santa De Leones and Angel's delicate shared moments were gone..
Replaced by the reality that comes crashing in—metal, glass and war.
Then a polished black shoe stepped down.
Hair slicked back, blue eyes behind his glasses.
Wearing a smirk that looked ugly and twisted.
Bernardo.
He took off his coat, dropped it to the ground and adjusted his suit jacket.
Looked around for effects, like an actor taking stage.
It was his coronation.
Then his eyes immediately clashed with Tony through the half shattered and frosted wall glass.
He stepped forward, towards the entrance then stopped.
He pointed at the glass wall to the people that followed him.
As if saying to take care of it.
The very glass riddled with sniper bullets.
His men raised their guns and opened fire—shattering the wall in a storm of loud noises and glass.
Until none was left in their magazines.
Angel yelped.
Tony wrapped him in his arms, his eyes never leaving the front entranced spectacle.
The frosted glass totally shattered, clearing Bernardo's path.
He stepped inside.
"Well, well…looks like I'm late to the family reunion."
Behind him, a mix of amed men.
Santa De Leones.
Luchese.
And CIA agents.
Beth stood behind Bernardo.
Eyeing Tony and Angel.
**