Page 72 of Corrado

Forgotten.

God knew he never wanted to put his family in that position—he never wanted to make his parents or his brothers feel like they had to choose between him, and the life they’d always known. It didn’t matter that they would accept him because there would be plenty of others around them that wouldn’t. And when they chose to fight for him, it would only leave them with a target on their backs because of it.

That’s how the mafia worked. When one didn’t fall in line, even if that one was the boss, then the rest seemed to take that as a sign of weakness. A problem that had to be culled before it could get worse.

He loved his family.

He loved where he came from.

Those were things Corrado was not willing to give up, not for anything. And if he was going to keep them, and maintain the delicate line he’d been walking his whole life, then nothing could change. He couldn’t give more to Alessio than he already had without sacrificing something else. It would always be that way.

It was Corrado’s burden to carry.

He didn’t expect Alessio to understand these things. He didn’t think the man would care, either. Because in reality, they weren’t at all alike, and they didn’t come from the same world.

That pride of his …

It was still a bitch, but that was only because pride was the only thing that kept Corrado sane a lot of the times.

“I should have listened, right?” Alessio asked outside of the shower, his voice muffled by the water pouring down on Corrado’s tense form. He heard the shuffle of fabric before Alessio added, “I asked what this was, and you said nothing. Man, yeah, I should have fucking listened when you said that.”

His teeth clenched, holding back words and pride and the truth. “Les—”

Corrado’s back hit the tiled wall when, without warning, the shower doors were thrown wide open. Cold air rushed in with the man that stepped inside, too, both wrapping around Corrado, but in entirely different ways.

The cold chilled him, slinking around his skin and muscles with a featherlight touch that had him shivering just beyond the spray of water.

Alessio, though?

He made Corrado hot, taking away that icy air as Alessio’s hands landed to either side of his head, smacking against tile and effectively pinning him in place. He wasn’t even touching him, but Corrado knew there was no way he was moving, now.

Not with Les so close.

Not with that heat.

“Except you’re a fucking liar,” Alessio murmured, his lips coming dangerously close to Corrado’s as he spoke low, “because we can’t be nothing when from the start, we were something.”

Shit.

He hadn’t even taken his clothes off. Corrado was all too aware of that right now. The way the water soaked through Alessio’s clothes, making the fabric mold to his body. And as much as he liked the way it looked, he couldn’t focus on that when all he could see was an ocean of blue bearing down on him.

Ready to drown him.

“You’re right,” Corrado said thickly. “You are.”

Alessio’s stance didn’t soften a bit. “But? Because I can hear that—even when you don’t say shit, I hear it, Corrado.”

“But this is what I can give you. I can’t give more. Either this is good enough for you, or you get nothing at all. That’s how it has to be for me, and for this.”

Silence echoed.

Alessio’s gaze blazed brighter.

Then, his palm slapped the tiled wall next to Corrado’s head hard enough that he felt it vibrate through the back of his skull. Yet, he didn’t flinch; he wasn’t ever concerned that this man would strike out against him in a physical way—not now.

People didn’t hurt things they loved.

Life taught Corrado that.