Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
“Maybe if you spent more time around business instead of just licking the cream off the top, you would have met them sooner.” Father shrugged and led the way toward the sun chairs as the roar of Cano and Ramiro’s vehicle disappeared into the distance. Miguel stayed back, peering at the caiman enclosure as if he couldn’t get enough of the bloody spectacle, but then Father gestured at him, inviting him over.
“Miguel is it? Sit with us.”
Nero allowed himself a brief scowl. “You’re the one to keep me away from the table.”
“Because when I give you a job that’s out of your usual repertoire, you fuck up. You have no creativity,” Father said, sitting down on the sunchair closest to the edge of the poolside, which allowed him to watch Oscar being ripped to pieces.
Mouse and Solomon seemed to take that as encouragement to unwind, and they left the bloody stump, along with the axe and the stains on the stone where they were, presumably for the maids to take care of later.
Some gentlemen.
Miguel settled tentatively as if he were expecting nails on the seat, but his body language revealed he was starting to feel more at ease. He had to be taking cues from Mouse and Solomon because they also relaxed, opening beers on the other end of the pool.
“Thank you,” Miguel said and nodded at Father.
“As you can see, I am a man who can forgive,” Father said, and Nero could tell it was the beginning of one of his tirades. “But in this world, you either eat or you’re eaten. Caimans only respect those stronger than them. I got to where I am by recognizing when my men fail, and when they try to dupe me. What I do not tolerate though is disloyalty. Do you understand? You might not always be my son’s bodyguard, but while you’re in this position, you follow him like a dog. Not everyone knows their place in the food chain and us Caimans are sometimes targeted by misguided prey.”
Nero couldn’t roll his eyes any harder, but he only did so behind Father’s back.
“Yes, sir. I apologize again for the other night, but your son’s safety was my priority,” Miguel said.
“That’s why I brought him here. He’s the best I’ve had,” Nero said, only realizing that his words, which for once hadn’t been meant as innuendo, have been taken as such when Solomon released a choked laugh.
Father wouldn’t give it a rest, even as Miguel shifted uncomfortably in the sunchair. “You better not be sleeping with him.” He pointed at Nero. “ He can fuck around outside of the organization if he needs to, but I won’t accept a Caiman engaging in any of that.”
Nero needed to put a stop to this fuckery, because while he enjoyed teasing Miguel, he did not want him under Father’s scrutiny. “He wouldn’t touch me. I meant that literally. He saved my life two nights ago. I trust him,” he added, glancing Miguel’s way.
Miguel took off the sunglasses and put them on the side table by a set of clean towels. “I’m straight, sir,” he added. Nero had no idea if he wasn’t reading into it too much, but did Miguel avoid meeting his eyes, as if he were feeling guilty? Did this prove the declaration a lie?
Or was Nero’s horny brain fooling him into seeing what he wanted to see?
“Good, good! We’ll have some girls over after lunch. But for now, enjoy the pool and beer,” Father said with a smile.
Nero was glad Father no longer tried to push girls at him, though he’d hate to see one entertaining Miguel. Would Miguel even want to sleep with a prostitute, or worse yet, someone trafficked? He didn’t seem that interested in sex overall and never joined the Correas in their rambling about women.
Maybe he was just a romantic at heart?
Or gay.
Maybe he was gay and so deep in the closet he couldn’t see the light through an open door?
Nero’s mouth watered when Miguel rose and pulled off his T-shirt, revealing the cuts still swollen on tattooed skin. The spot where Nero had bitten him still bore teeth marks, and Nero secretly hoped it would scar, leaving a trace of his presence etched forever in Miguel’s flesh.
Miguel’s gaze met his, and Nero found himself smiling as he relaxed against the back of the sunchair. Behind him, Father’s bodyguards sat on the edge of the pool, dipping their feet in while Oscar’s blood dried in the sun on the other side of the shimmering water.
If dice stopped falling in Nero’s favor, and Father chose to name a different heir, or someone simply decided to take matters in their own hands, would Miguel stay loyal or fight for his own skin and a good life for the mother he hadn’t seen in years?