8. CLOUDING MY SENSES.

Castle.

I barely managed to make it home early enough to change into something more appropriate for my meeting.

Last night had been a whirlwind of emotions and bitter truths being unveiled. One of those ‘so-called’ truths was the fact that as much as I prided myself on being a dominant man, all it had taken was Angel's deep voice commanding me.

“Open up for me, baby boy.” He had said.

And just like that, I turned into a perfect submissive for him throughout the night.

I shook those thoughts out of my mind as I headed into the shower. Now wasn't the time to dwell on my weakness.

Minutes later, I was dressed in a black tank top with leather pants and boots to match. My leather jacket was thrown over my shoulder as I sped to the La Iglesia—our meeting place.

Tomas had sent word to the leaders of the smaller mobs under us about the meeting. It was done at the ball yesterday, so it was basically an emergency.

La Iglesia was a mess of ruins when I parked my Ducati motorbike by the church building. Tomas was waiting outside for me already, and he took one look at my face before he nodded and moved aside for me to pass.

I was in a shitty mood, no surprise there. But the reason behind the aforementioned mood was a certain FBI agent that I couldn't get out of my head.

Tomas and I walked into the old church building, heading straight for the basement door.

The Lucchese mansion had been where my father had acted like a god, playing with his subjects’ lives like they were no more than an amusement for him, things to be owned and used as it suited him.

But after taking over, I had moved the meeting to this old church ruins. Weirdly because this was where my mother had been murdered some years back, and I wanted to be reminded of that fact every meeting.

Four dangerous-looking men covered in ink already waited at the table set up in the middle of the old crypt, and they watched us cautiously as I entered.

They watched me because I was the one who held their lives and their gangs in my grip.

Part of my inheritance as the Don of the New York mob had been a whole stack of leverage, documented crimes that could see most of these men put away for life, should it be sent to the right people.

Better than that, I controlled all the money laundering through my territory. The one thing all these fuckers valued more than their pride, was their money.

When I couldn’t kill the people who pissed me off—for whatever reason, usually because they were too useful—I heavily taxed their respective gangs as punishment.

Given the choice, though, I’d rather just shoot them. It was easier that way because people understood death.

“Gentlemen,” I greeted them in a cool tone, “thank you for coming on such short notice.”

The oldest of the group grunted an annoyed sound that made my eyes narrow.

“Did we have a choice?” he asked and met my glare with his beady-eyed gaze.

I held his eye contact as I made my way to the head of the table, and he looked away before I’d even sat down. Pussy.

“No, Raymond, you didn't.” My voice was cold and my glare withering. I was already pissed and if he knew what was best for him, he'd shut his filthy mouth till the end of the meeting.

Letting my gaze land on every single leader in the room, I noted that Dean Rosa was still missing.

“Now, let's move to the reason I called this meeting.”

I watched as they all squirmed in their respective seats with their second in command standing closely behind them, just as Tomas was standing just a few feet away.

“Dean Rosa has been missing since yesterday. I don't know the details yet, but he didn't show up to the ball and we have reason to believe it wasn't due to negligence.”

I could have just told them that the FBI had somehow gotten to him, but I didn't want to implicate Angel.

Fuck. I hissed slightly under my breath as I adjusted in my seat. Just thinking about his voice had my body betraying me again. Useless.

“...left the state.”

I tuned in just in time to hear the last part of Fernando’s statement.

Not wanting to show that I wasn't focused on the meeting, I sat straight and fixed everyone with a glare.

“Does anyone know something tangible that isn't just a rumor?” I fixed my eyes on Fernando, daring him to counter my question.

To my relief, he turned his gaze down and focused on the table. Good.

I had taken a guess that Fernando didn't have proof and I was right. Dean Rosa wouldn't just up and leave the state without informing me. Except he had started growing wings.

The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth and I filed it for later.

The meeting took a nosedive from there and in minutes, the whole place was empty save for me and Tomas.

“So…” Tomas asked when it took long for me to address him.

“Check for flight records. I hate to admit it, but Fernando might have a point.”

He nodded and left, but I didn't leave immediately. Instead, I let my mind wander freely and it was no surprise when the memory of my night with Angel came up again.

I had woken up early this morning, way before he even stirred from sleep. Our masks were still on, even with the way we ravaged each other.

After dressing up, I had taken a moment to sit beside him, tracing his face softly as if memorizing every feature.

Then, I leaned in, pressed a kiss to his forehead, and walked out like a damn coward.

Now, I kept wondering if he had made it to work on time. Is he thinking about me as much as I'm thinking about him?

Was he just as affected by it, or was he one of those people who could walk away from a moment like that and never look back?

God, I hoped not.

Just then, my phone rang and snapped me out of my reverie. Glancing at the screen, I noticed that the caller was Adriana.

What exactly does she want now?