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The light drizzle isn’t enough to wash away the splashes of sanguine crimson staining their dark suits as two men make their way swiftly through the shadows of the dingy alley. As they emerge from the gloom of the narrow passage, a black sedan rolls to a stop at the curb.
Swiftening his stride, Rover trots over to hold the door open for his capo.
Nodding his thanks, Jiyan steps into the car. Out of habit, Rover’s gaze sweeps their surroundings for threats before climbing in after Jiyan. The door clicks closed behind him, sealing out the cold night air.
“It’s finished,” Jiyan reports to the man reclining across from them in the facing seat, his tone deferential.
“You’ve had a long night,” Geshu Lin acknowledges languidly. He pours two glasses of scotch, handing one to Jiyan. Their fingers brush, leaving a streak of blood from Jiyan’s sullied gloves on Geshu Lin’s bare skin.
Jiyan pauses, but Rover is already taking a handkerchief from his pocket. The look that Geshu Lin cuts the earnest young man is derisive, but he accepts the cloth, cleaning off the blood and tossing it back to him.
“Perdonami, Don, meeting you in such an unsightly state.”
Geshu Lin’s lip curls. “After being at my side for so many years, you’re still hung up on such meaningless formalities.”
Jiyan huffs. “I’ll get right to the point then. The hits were a success. Calcharo and Yhan’s crews cleaned up the Fisalia strongholds on the outskirts while Rover and I took care of the executives attending the banquet in the main villa. Don Fisalia is dead, I saw to it myself. With this, the Fisalia Famiglia is finished. All that’s left is some spring cleaning—”
The majority of Geshu Lin’s attention is on Jiyan as he recounts the details but he observes Rover from the corner of his vision. He hadn’t given much attention to the new enforcer at first, rare as it was for Jiyan to take someone under his wing, but the brat has made a name for himself, swiftly rising to rival their top enforcers. He sits too close to Jiyan, their thighs barely an inch apart. His body language is open, turned slightly into Jiyan like a flower towards sunlight. Just some puppy following Jiyan around, Geshu Lin had initially thought, but he has since had to revise that assessment.
“I should mention that Rover’s performance was especially outstanding. Half the capos in attendance were taken out by him alone, including Fisalia’s capo bastone. If not for him, we would have suffered many losses in the leading assault with Fisalia’s top brass and talents present at the gathering.”
Geshu Lin turns the cold glass in his hands, watching Jiyan steadily until there is a hint of nervousness, a tightening of his jaw. “Talking up your pet enforcer in front of me, what are you suggesting? To raise him to a caporegime?”
“Yes. I think Rover is more than ready to lead his own team.”
Geshu Lin leans on the armrest, jaw propped on his fist. “And have you asked the person himself?”
Jiyan’s brow creases with bemusement. Rover was so proactive in ascending through the ranks that he thought it was a foregone conclusion; the ambition of any soldato is to attain a higher position. But Geshu Lin doesn’t ask pointless questions.
“What do you think, Rover?”
“It would be my honor,” Rover agrees readily, straight backed and bright eyed. “If I may make a request though, I would like to continue working with capo Jiyan.”
Jiyan’s arm jerks in an aborted move to elbow Rover in warning.
“Don—” Jiyan starts worriedly, but Geshu Lin waves him off. He’s not in the mood to hear whatever bullshit apology Jiyan wants to make on Rover’s behalf.
“Let’s table it for later. We can revisit it once this Fisalia business is settled.”
Jiyan breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sir.”
Discussion of the takeover of Fisalia’s businesses and territory continues into their headquarters, Rover trailing a respectful half step behind.
“Let’s handle it like that then,” Geshu Lin says, signaling the end of their conversation.
“Understood. Please have a good rest, sir.”
Jiyan turns to leave but finds himself caught by Geshu Lin.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Reeling Jiyan in by the hand on his waist, Geshu Lin cups his face and kisses him, wet and open mouthed; unhurried despite being in full view of everyone going about their business in the foyer. When they part, there’s a little color in Jiyan’s cheeks, a lustrous sheen to his lips. “Go wait for me in my rooms,” he orders, voice low and husky.
“Geshu Lin,” Jiyan hisses in admonishment, ears red.
It never ceases to amuse him that Jiyan still gets so embarrassed when everyone in la Famiglia already knows about them. He trails his fingers down Jiyan’s Mark and feels him shiver. “Unless you don’t want your reward?” he murmurs, soft and intimate. A light shrug has the suit jacket hanging loose about Geshu Lin’s shoulders dropping into his hand. He draws the jacket over Jiyan’s shoulders, moving long teal locks out of the way by habit, the soft silken strands sliding over the backs of his fingers. Jiyan’s gaze is fixed on him as Geshu Lin tugs up the collar to cover the exposed Mark on his nape.
Jiyan’s throat moves, his pupils blown wide. He obeys without fuss this time when Geshu Lin tells him, “Go.”
When Rover turns to follow Jiyan out, he is stopped by Geshu Lin. “Not you, soldato. Come to my office.”
“Don,” Jiyan’s troubled gaze moves between the two of them, “is something the matter?”
Geshu Lin rolls his eyes. “Just go already. I promise not to eat up your brat. Good enough for you?”
Rover gives Jiyan a shake of his head and a tiny smile. I’ll be fine.
“…Alright. I’ll take my leave first then.” Giving them one last worried glance, Jiyan departs.
**
Geshu Lin lets out a heavy sigh as he takes the seat behind his desk. The state of his health compared to a year ago is like night and day, but he still gets bone deep aches and pains from time to time, particularly on cold, rainy days like this. There’s small chance Jiyan won’t notice Geshu Lin’s poor condition with his keen observation, but that’s not too bad either if he does. He has no complaints about Jiyan putting those strong, beautiful hands to work on him. The reward can always wait for a later date.
Leaning back in his seat, Geshu Lin laces his fingers together, regarding his visitor.
Rover stands at attention, his demeanor calm and untroubled, neither nervous nor excited to be in the presence of the Family’s head.
Geshu Lin lets the silence stretch out until Rover says, “Mi dispiace for speaking out of turn. Is there something I can do for you, Don?”
“I think,” Geshu Lin says, holding his gaze, “I’m the one who should be asking you that, isn’t that right?” He speaks, slow and deliberate, “What can this don do for you, Godfather?”
The long, ensuing silence and Rover’s blank stare almost have him doubting himself when Rover lets out a soft chuckle. “Jiyan did say you have a fearsome instinct.” He leisurely circles the table, fingers drifting over the wood. Arriving in front of Geshu Lin, he hoists himself up onto the desk.
Geshu Lin grips the ankle that props itself next to his thigh warningly, and Rover—the Cosa Nostra’s Angel of Death—lets him, a small smile on his lips. He’s too close for comfort, nearly half in Geshu Lin’s lap.
“You’re not very respectful,” Rover notes, his tone conversational.
“Should I kneel down and kiss your ring, Padrino?” Geshu Lin returns coldly.
“No need for that.” Rover’s smile fades. “Your legs haven’t fully healed.”
Geshu Lin doesn’t see how that is relevant, or even why Rover brought it up in the first place. “Is that what this is about, that incident? Or did you just come here to poach my capos?”
Rover’s lips quirk. “You have quite the interesting setup here.” He leans back on his hands, free leg swinging a little. “I’ve never heard of a Family having their capo bastone also play the part of the consigliere. Then again, Jiyan is very talented, he’s more than qualified to perform the tasks of both.”
Geshu Lin tamps down the anger that wants to rise; he won’t give Rover the satisfaction of reacting to the provocation. Because that’s all it is; they both know Jiyan wouldn’t leave his side. “Jiyan was already arguing with me at every turn, and he doesn’t lose his head even in the heat of a blood feud. Giving him the added title of consigliere was just a formality.”
The fucking Godfather of the mafia has been lurking in their ranks. The Lord Arbiter, as some call him, who put the organized back into crime in Italy. He had united the Families, settled the blood feuds, and, most controversially, cleaned up their operations—so thoroughly that there was much restless grumbling that the families may as well be legal now.
Geshu Lin had not been one of those quibblers. By then, he had been fucking exhausted by the endless feuds, the senseless wars that only served to bury more of their people and dulled the brightness in Jiyan’s eyes.
Eventually, even those voices of dissent had quieted as the Cosa Nostra flourished under the Arbiter’s direction, the pressure from law enforcement significantly diminished. Il Padrino, was the most prominent figure within their organization, yet few had seen his face, much less met him in person.
And now here he is, practically in Geshu Lin’s lap. He is certain of Rover’s identity, even if the man before him looks too young to have accomplished those deeds. It’ll just remain another mystery, one that isn’t Geshu Lin’s problem if he has anything to say about it.
Needing a smoke, he takes the carton from his desk, tapping out a cigarette and holding it loosely in his mouth as he reaches for the drawer. He doesn’t keep a lighter in his pocket anymore—Jiyan’s incessant nagging isn’t worth the trouble.
“Allow me,” Rover says, a lighter in hand as he shifts close.
Geshu Lin watches with disbelief as the Cosa Nostra’s Godfather cups his palm bringing the flickering flame to light his cigarette like some dutiful subordinate. He takes a long pull and releases it in an ashy cloud, resisting the urge to blow it into Rover’s face. “This a hobby of yours? Playing around like this?”
Rover tilts his head. “Have you considered that I might not be playing?”
Why else would he do these things?
Geshu Lin sighs tiredly. “Just tell me what you’re here for.”
Rover takes the box from Geshu Lin’s hand, helping himself to a cigarette. When he has the stick held between his lips, Geshu Lin obliges him, leaning forward to light the end with his own, steadied between his fingertips.
Rover exhales the smoke in a visible sigh. “There are rats in this thing of ours, executives or higher—I wouldn’t put it past them to have compromised a don or two.” It was inevitable, with how radically he had broken from tradition in an eminently Old World consortium. “That was how you were taken by ‘Ndrangheta,” he says heavily.
Geshu Lin has no comment, having already known. Jiyan had even been a step ahead of him, out for blood the moment Geshu Lin’s health had stabilized.
“I intend to clean up the rot corrupting the roots of la Famiglia.”
“So it’s another war then,” Geshu Lin says with weary resignation.
“No,” Rover refutes firmly. “The initial purge was unavoidable, but enough blood has been spilled. I like the way Jiyan thinks—excising the blight that rots the Family from within, clean and surgical.”
If that’s the case, then Rover isn’t here for a preliminary survey to scout out the geography for a civil war, but to carry out a targeted extermination from the ground floor, a wolf wearing sheep’s skin so as not to alert its quarry. “That’s why you’re here instead of sending down orders from above.”
Rover inclines his head. “The only way to understand the state of the Cosa Nostra is to have my feet on the ground amongst the soldati, witnessing for myself the problems within the hierarchy, evaluating the relationships between the clans. It was a good decision; I’ve already made much progress in my investigations.”
This had been one of the vague possibilities Geshu Lin had considered when he began to suspect who was hiding amongst his men, but, “Why here? Why us? Given my history, we’re the worst choice; the Mezanotte are the Family the traitors would be most wary of.”
“Because of that very same history, I have confidence that Mezanotte has not been compromised,” Rover says slowly, putting out his cigarette. “Moreover…” Reaching out, he lays light fingers on Geshu Lin’s Mark.
If it were anyone else, Geshu Lin would have torn the limb from their body. As it is, he’s still thinking about it, fingers curled into a fist against his leg and barely resisting the urge.
“’Ndrangheta have boasted far and wide that there’s no Resonator they couldn’t break with their methods. The longest lasted six months.” Rover’s touch is gentle on the scarring that mars the dark bands. “They had you for a year, yet you never broke your vow of omertà.”
Geshu Lin sneers. “It wasn’t for you.”
“Maybe not,” Rover says equably, but he doesn’t seem to believe him. “Even if that’s the case, I know who it was for now.”
Looking away, Geshu Lin stamps out his cigarette in the ashtray. Gripping Rover’s wrist, he moves it away from his throat, his palm engulfing the fine bones. It’s hard to believe that this slender hand had once razed one of the most prominent Families to the ground in a single night. That was where Rover had earned that overblown moniker—l’Angelo della Morte. Since then, no one has dared act rashly against those closest to the Arbiter, knowing vengeance would be swift and merciless.
“Holding to the code of omertà is the bare minimum in the Famiglia. I hardly think that keeping my mouth shut when I was supposed to warrants a personal visit from our padrino.”
“The bare minimum, yet the most difficult to uphold under duress. I was far away when you were captured and held, out of contact.” Rover’s tone is apologetic for no reason that Geshu Lin can name. The Arbiter protects his own, but Mezzanotte is one of a dozen families in the Cosa Nostra. He doesn’t believe that Rover would consider the hundreds of mafiosi under his rule his own.
“By the time I heard what had happened, Jiyan had already broken you out.”
And caused a huge fucking mess while he was at it. They had caged Geshu Lin in the heart of ’Ndrangheta’s stronghold. Jiyan had nearly gotten himself and their entire Family killed just to rescue something that barely resembled a human anymore. Geshu Lin would have been better off dead.
And then someone had intervened.
“You were the one who found some miraculous healer to mend me.” There’s only ever been one person he could think of that could manage that impossible feat, but he couldn’t fathom why. Their paths have never even crossed, that he knows of at least.
“It would be a shame if I let our most loyal waste away,” Rover confirms. “Il Generale, they call you, the staunchest of the dons on the frontlines, taken in the line of duty. I was already going to do it, but Jiyan begged me, you know?”
Geshu Lin’s gaze, previously glowering at the far wall, snaps to his. “What are you talking about?” he demands. He’s never heard of such an occurrence from Jiyan or his people.
“Jiyan knelt on our doorstep in Jinzhou for three days and three nights begging our aid in healing you. Even Jinhsi and Changli together were unable to move him, he was that stubborn. I went back myself to knock him out and put him to bed. By the time he woke, I was able to promise him—through Jinhsi—that I had found someone who could restore your health.”
Jiyan, that idiot. Always doing such useless things. Was that what drew Rover’s attention to them?
Geshu Lin draws a hand over his face, feeling every one of his years. “So what now?”
“Your assistance in rooting out the traitors would be appreciated.”
Geshu Lin lifts a brow. “You’re not going to order me?”
“I don’t need to.” The tilt of Rover’s mouth is amused. “Aside from Jiyan, there isn’t anyone more motivated than you to find the betrayers who put you into 'Ndrangheta’s hands.”
As if Jiyan could feel that much hatred. Rover is right about one thing though, Geshu Lin isn’t going to let those bastards off. He’s been hunting them since he was back on his feet. “You should have told us from the beginning. We would have worked with you.”
“I wanted to see what you were really like,” Rover says, watching him intently.
“Tell me then, Padrino,” Geshu Lin drawls. “Which one of us is it that you want?” He knows Rover’s interest in Jiyan isn’t a pretense. He wants it out in the open so he can set things straight: the one thing he will never hand over is Jiyan, even if it were the Creator himself that was asking.
Rover laughs softly. “As if it’s possible to have one without the other.”
Geshu Lin is caught off guard when Rover abruptly slips into his lap, his hands reflexively coming up to grip the narrow waist. “It’s fortunate then, that I want you both.” Resting a palm on Geshu Lin’s chest, Rover bows his head to press a soft kiss to his disfigured Mark.
The answer is unexpected but not undesirable.
It seems that Jiyan will be getting his reward tonight after all, Geshu Lin thinks wryly as he drags Il Padrino into a hungry kiss.