Chapter 22

“You know,” Don started without any preamble, “I thought you two would get sick of each other after spending so much time together.”

“It was only a week,” Francesco said. Karl was leaning against the mantelpiece. To anyone watching him swirling the ice cubes in his tumbler with seemingly relaxed ease, he was the perfect picture of calm. But Francesco wasn’t the kind to let himself fooled easily. Karl was tense, his eyes on Don, waiting for the next move.

“When I was your age,” Don commented, “I was fucking a different pussy every night. Whores were gagging on my cock like there was no tomorrow and no next meal.” He laughed at his own joke.

Neither Francesco, nor Karl, laughed.

“We’re not into pussies,” Francesco said frankly.

To his surprise, Don palmed his crotch suggestively. “No, you’re into cocks. How was it, Francesco? To take all those cocks in you?”

“The fuck you’re talking about?” Karl spat and straightened up.

Don smirked and reached inside the pocket of his suit jacket. He threw his phone at Karl, who caught it deftly. “Just press play. You’ll see what your husband,” he said while pinning Francesco down with a cold stare, “is truly capable of.”

Francesco froze. Was that it? That was the game? Why end it so soon? He pushed himself off the sofa to reach for the phone in Karl’s hand, but Don caught him and pulled him back with a harsh laugh. “What is it, Francesco?” he drawled. “Did you think I’d let the two of you go unpunished after making me look like a fucking schmuck in front of everyone?”

He made a move to get up again, but Don turned and pressed one hand against the base of his throat while snaking the other arm behind his back. “Easy,” Don said in a false sugary voice. “You two took an oath. How about letting Karl know all the truth about you?”

If he was to win this, he needed to be smart. Francesco relaxed in Don’s grip and even crossed his legs like he had not a single worry in the world. He watched Karl’s face twisting in anger and bitter disappointment. “I’ve done worse before,” he said casually. “Karl knows who I am. Why do you think his choice of endearment for me is either bitch or whore?” He let it all sink in while staring Don in the eyes and then added, “Daddy.”

An appreciative smirk welcomed his bravado.

“The fuck is this?” Karl held the phone with its screen toward Francesco.

He didn’t need to look long to know that it was that dreaded video. “Daddy here,” he said, “thought of an effective way to convince me to let go of your dick. If you don’t want to watch that till the end, let me give you some spoilers. After all that cock I got, I still wanted yours. Then daddy decided we should get married.”

Karl stared at him, wide-eyed, his face pale despite his recent tan. “You knew?” he whispered angrily. “You were ... what? Part of it?”

Francesco jolted when Karl suddenly threw the phone against the mantelpiece with so much force that bits and pieces flew everywhere. He sighed, pretending he wasn’t impressed by that outburst.

“You didn’t say a fucking thing,” Karl accused him, his fists clenched tightly, ready to fight.

“Hard to say anything when daddy-in-law made sure I was choking on his dick,” Francesco replied in kind.

Karl staggered as if he had been hit by a physical blow. “What?”

Francesco crossed his arms. If he went down, he’d take the crazy asshole with him. “Yeah, you heard right. Feel free not to believe me. I don’t care. But your amazing dad,” he said the words through his teeth, “told me he would let your unit gangbang you and turn you into their cum dump unless I played nice with him. His words, not mine. He’s good with those.” He looked at Don, hoping to see that cold façade breaking, at least a little. But no, instead, the same expression of smugness and unveiled admiration met him. “Fucking politicians,” he added.

Karl growled, taking them both by surprise. “Fucking fucker,” he bellowed and rushed toward them.

Francesco pulled his knees close to his chest and buried his face into his elbows, knowing fully well that he didn’t have time to run. He braced for the hit that would follow, but when nothing happened, he looked up in time to see Don barely dodging his son’s fist in time.

The asshole jumped from the sofa, ready to fight. Karl rushed to him blindly, and Francesco now understood the horrifying lengths to which Don was willing to go to humiliate his son. Karl landed a punch to the belly, and Don grunted while taking a step back, but Karl didn’t have time to gloat because his legs were swiftly cut from under him.

Francesco didn’t wait. He jumped to his feet and rammed into Don’s shoulder, making him lose his balance. Next thing he knew, he was promptly face-slapped. “You little bitch,” Don sneered. “Stay the fuck out of it.”

“Can’t do,” Francesco spat. “You made me part of the family, daddy.”

Karl was already back on his feet. Some of his initial anger was gone, so his honed battle instincts were back. He was light on his feet, observing his dad and calculating his next move.

Don, however, seemed to have gained back his sanity, or at least some of it. He laughed and straightened his clothes. “Fine, fine, you little faggots. Karl, if you enjoy fucking this cum dumpster so much, that’s your choice. I was expecting a lot more from you.”