Angelo (The Marchesi Family 2)

Did I dare find out? Did I actually have a choice?

6

Angelo

I didn’t go back to the office because I didn’t want to face Lucien’s questions, so I’d stayed out checking on some of our properties until it was time to head home. As I rode back to our house, I hoped he was taking Peter out to dinner or that they would eat in their room. There were plenty of nights when Lucien asked for a tray to be brought up to them so they didn’t have to get out of bed to eat. The two of them were fucking insatiable. Not that I blamed my brother. Peter was devoted and beautiful. I wouldn’t want to let him out of bed either.

I never thought my brother would settle down with one man, but Peter seemed to be all he needed. What would that be like, to find a person who could satisfy me in every way? I dismissed the thought. It would be boring.

Lucien had gotten lucky. The kind of love he and Peter had was rare. The only other people I knew who’d loved like that were my parents, but it had nearly killed my dad when Mom died. That life wasn’t for me. I like variety. Men. Women. Twinks. Bears. Thin girls. Thick girls. Usually, I liked them submissive, but I didn’t have to have it like that all the time. Sometimes I enjoyed the chase, the takedown, the struggle. Cameron would give me that before I subdued him, and I would enjoy every second of it.

One thing remained true, though. No matter who I was with, I was always happy to leave them when I was done.

Lucien used to be that way before he became obsessed with Peter.

Just like you’re obsessed with Cameron?

No. I might have been obsessed in high school, but not now. So what if I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since I’d left Art’s Bakery? What I wanted from Cameron was nothing like what Lucien and Peter had.

I hated how I couldn’t stop thinking about the self-righteous jackass. I hated it even more that I felt sorry for him. But once I had my time with him, he’d be part of my past, just a man who’d needed to be taken down several notches. Once I’d done that job, I wouldn’t have any need for him.

My driver let me out in front of our home in the North End, and I braced myself. If Lucien saw me, I had no doubt he’d ask how things went with Cameron. I would have to give him an answer, but it wouldn’t be the whole truth. He’d asked me to handle the situation, and I was. He hadn’t specified how, though I was sure he hadn’t meant for me to fuck Cameron without getting any money or other service from him.

When I entered the house, I heard conversation coming from the dining room. Shit. I was really fucking hungry, but if everyone was at the table… Maybe Lucien wouldn’t ask me about business until we’d eaten. My father had a rule about no business at the dinner table, one that was still strictly adhered to whenever he was home, but he wasn’t home now. He’d been around for a few months after returning from an extended trip to the Caribbean, but he’d left again, knowing Lucien needed to solidify his position as leader of the family.

My father hanging around, unable to refrain from giving advice, wasn’t helpful for that. Besides, why would he want to be in Boston during an especially rainy and cold May when he could be sitting on a beach in the Caribbean, sipping cocktails and being fawned over by women who didn’t give a fuck that he was decades older than them as long as he showered them with gifts?

My stomach growled as the scent of Lola’s cooking wafted down the hall. Our housekeeper was phenomenal. I couldn’t miss one of her dinners. I’d just have to risk Lucien’s interrogation. It wasn’t like I was afraid of my brother. I just wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation.

Devil looked up when I entered the dining room. “Angel, where the fuck you been?”

“Out.” I didn’t owe anyone an explanation for my movements.

Lucien narrowed his eyes at me, but he didn’t say anything. Peter was there and so was our aunt Sabrina. I took my usual seat next to Devil and stole a piece of garlic bread off his plate.

“What the fuck?” He slapped my hand and tried to grab the bread back, but I stuffed it into my mouth before he could.

“Boys!” Lola scolded. “Quit acting like a bunch of animals. There’s another loaf in the kitchen. If you think you can be civilized, I’ll bring it out.” She must’ve heard me come in because she set a plate in front of me that held a huge piece of lasagna and some salad.