Chapter 49 Lies, Family Ties and Paper Trails
Cedric’s POV
One habit Cedric had picked up from Dante without even knowing it, was that now whenever he thought too hard, he found himself pacing.
Just as he's doing right now.
Cedric walked the length of Gianni’s bedroom like a caged animal, his bare feet silent on the plush carpet, his mind spinning in circles that went nowhere.
Gianni hadn’t followed him upstairs like he’d expected. Instead, he’d sent Cedric up alone with a dismissive, “I need to speak with my consigliere. Go to bed. I’ll be up later.”
So here Cedric was, freshly showered and changed into silk pajama pants and freaking the absolute fuck out.
The note from Dante was still in his pocket; or rather, in the pocket of the jeans he’d abandoned on the bathroom floor. It sat there like a ticking bomb, waiting to explode and ruin everything.
6:00pm tomorrow, behind Block E. M says hi.
What the hell did that mean? Who was M? Marcus? Was Dante working with Marcus? But how would that even be possible? Marcus was beautiful and kind and amazing and all things good in the world... and Dante was like if a snake and a panther had a baby and someone magically transformed that baby into a human being. And what the fuck was Block E?
Cedric ran his good hand through his damp hair, tugging at it in frustration. He was so far out of his depth it wasn’t even funny. He wasn’t cut out for this spy shit, this constant lying and sneaking around and trying to remember which story he’d told to which person.
He was just a bartender. A sex worker. A broke kid from Queens who was supposed to be saving money for survival, not playing James Bond in a mafia estate.
And now he had no phone. No way to contact Marcus. No way to call his mom and hear her voice, to check on Lily, to make sure they were safe from Ray and the debt collectors and all the other horrors that existed outside these walls.
Cedric had tried very hard not to think in that direction as it always made him grieve his past life, no matter how shitty it was compared to this, at least then he had his family.
And now he couldn't stop himself, the realization hit him too hard, and suddenly there were tears burning hot behind his eyes, threatening to spill over.
He’d never even gotten to make a single call. Never got to tell his mother he was alive, that he was, well, not okay, but surviving. She would be so worried, running from police station to police station, to his workplace and to his very few friends begging them to find him.
All because damned Luca had smashed the phone, taken away his one connection to the world beyond this golden cage.
Stop it, Cedric told himself harshly, swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. For fucks sake, crying won’t fix anything. You need to focus. Figure out what Dante wants. Figure out if he’s an ally or another threat.
But before he could spiral further into panic, his mind flashed back to earlier in the dining hall, to the moment right before Gianni had sent him away.
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”And I don’t want you caught in the middle of whatever game he’s playing,” Gianni had said, his hand still possessive on Cedric’s shoulder.
Then something very quickly changed in his expression. His eyes had gone sharp and focused, as if he’d just remembered something important.
”Did something happen while I was out?” Gianni asked.
The question came out of nowhere. Sure it was casual enough on the surface but it was also loaded with meaning underneath.
Cedric’s heart had immediately kicked into overdrive because how the fuck was he supposed to answer that?
On one hand, he could lie and say nothing happened, everything was fine, he’d just eaten dinner and waited patiently like a good little kept boy.
That option came with guaranteed punishment when Gianni inevitably found out the truth. And Cedric had learned enough about this man to know that his punishments were creative and sexually charged and absolutely not something he could handle right now when his ass still ached from last night.
On the other hand, he could tell the truth.
That Luca had caught him taking photos, accused him of spying, shoved him hard enough to send him crashing to the concrete, then confiscated and damaged the phone Gianni had given him.
The phone Gianni had given him as a gift, thinking Cedric would use it to call his family.
The phone Cedric had immediately turned into a surveillance tool to gather evidence against him.
Yeah, that conversation was absolutely not happening.
Cedric’s eyes had flicked over Gianni’s appearance; the rumpled suit, the loosened tie hanging askew, the exhaustion written in the lines around his eyes.
He looked like he’d had a long night, running on fumes and adrenaline, and something about that tired, working-man aesthetic was unfairly hot.
The half-lidded eyes, the shadow of stubble on his jaw, the way his shirt pulled across his shoulders when he moved. Cedric’s body had responded despite his better judgment, heat pooling low in his belly, and for a second he’d thought maybe they could just skip all this and go upstairs and fuck until he forgot about Luca and Maria and everything else.
Maria.
The image of Maria’s bloody stumps dripping on the carpet had slammed into his mind like a freight train.
And Gianni had stood there explaining it like it was reasonable thing to do, and giving someone a permanent disability was actually a perfectly acceptable response to disrespect.
The heat in Cedric’s body had died instantly, replaced by cold disgust. This man wasn’t hot. He was a monster. A disgusting, evil, power-drunk freak who hurt people and called it mercy.
Cedric had coughed, shaking his head quickly to clear the conflicting thoughts. “No. Nothing happened. Everything was fine.”
The lie had tasted like ash on his tongue.
Gianni had paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Cedric’s face. The silence stretched for a long, terrible moment.
”Shouldn’t you know better by now,” Gianni had said softly, “than to lie to me?”
Cedric’s stomach had dropped.
”I’m not,“
”You are.” Gianni’s thumb had stroked across Cedric’s cheekbone, almost gentle. “Your tells are obvious, tesoro. The way your eyes dart to the left when you’re constructing a story, and you swallow before speaking. The way your pulse jumps right here,” He’d pressed his finger against Cedric’s throat. “I can feel it racing.”
”I just,“
”We’ll discuss it upstairs,” Gianni had interrupted. “After I deal with Luca. Because yes, I already know what happened with the phone. Did you really think word wouldn’t reach me the second my head of security assaulted my guest and confiscated property I’d given you?”
Cedric’s mouth had opened and closed uselessly, no words coming out.
”Go to bed,” Gianni had said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll be up after I’ve had a... calm conversation with my consigliere about appropriate behavior and overstepping authority. And then you and I are going to have a very different conversation about what you were doing with that phone before it was taken from you.”
"But..."
"Enough. Go upstairs and wait for me."
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Cedric snapped back to the present, his heart hammering against his ribs.
Gianni knew. Of course he fucking knew. He probably knew everything; about the photos, about Cedric’s terrible attempt at espionage, about every stupid decision Cedric had made since arriving at this estate.
And now Cedric was alone in his bedroom, waiting for him to come upstairs and demand answers Cedric couldn’t give without admitting he was working with the police to destroy him.
I’m so fucked. I’m so completely, utterly fucked.
His eyes landed on the jeans crumpled on the bathroom floor, on the pocket that held Dante’s note.
He should get rid of it. Flush it down the toilet, burn it, anything to eliminate the evidence before Gianni found it.
But he needed to know what it meant first, so he could understand if Dante was actually offering help or just setting a trap.
Cedric crossed to the bathroom and pulled the note from his pocket again with shaking fingers. The paper was small, folded tight, and when he opened it, he found the same three lines written in messy handwriting:
6:00pm tomorrow, behind Block E . M says hi.
That was it. There was no other explanation, and no otger context, just a time and a cryptic location and a single initial that could mean anything.
Marcus? Had to be Marcus. But how would Dante know Marcus? Unless...
“Is that for me?”
Cedric’s head snapped up, fast as lightning.
Gianni stood in the doorway to the bedroom, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. His tie was gone completely now, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and his eyes were fixed on the piece of paper in Cedric’s hand with an intensity that made Cedric’s blood run cold.
How long had he been standing there? How much had he seen?
“I..." Cedric’s mouth was dry, his mind blank. “This is...”
“A note,” Gianni said calmly, pushing off the doorframe and walking into the room. “From Dante, I assume. That he slipped into your pocket while whispering in your ear like you were lovers sharing secrets.”
He held out his hand, palm up, waiting.
“Give it to me.”