Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Micah’s POV
“Fuck you, Elio,” I muttered under my breath, even as my hand curled around my cock. I was so hard it hurt. Every stroke sent a sharp pulse through me, but it wasn’t just need—it was anger. Shame. Lust. All of it knotted tight inside my gut.
And still, I couldn’t stop.
He told me to do this. Told me to touch myself like a good little plaything. And fuck, I hated that it turned me on. I hated how my skin burned where his eyes had been. How my body ached for the approval I never fucking asked for.
I didn’t know what the hell had come over me. Maybe it was the way he sounded when he said he owned me. Or maybe it was the way he looked at me like he was eye-fucking me. Like he could bend me, shape me, fuck me, and I’d still crawl back for more.
And the worst part? He wasn’t wrong.
I was shaking. From need, from anger, from how completely and utterly fucked up this entire situation was. But I kept stroking anyway. Slow. Hard. My teeth gritted, jaw clenched so tight I thought something would crack.
“Piece of shit,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “You think you can play me like this? Like I’m some kind of pet?”
My hips jerked up off the mattress. My body didn’t care that he wasn’t here. My mind didn’t care that I hated him. My cock was leaking and twitching in my fist, and I needed to come so badly it made my stomach twist.
I squeezed tighter, pumping faster. He hadn't even given me the chance to speak to my mother before he left.
“Elio… ye… ss… da… ddyy,” I groaned, low and shameful, like I didn’t mean for it to slip. My breath hitched as my thumb slid over the swollen head. I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning his name again. My hips bucked into my own hand like I was starved for touch.
Goddamn him. I imagined him standing in the shadows, fists clenched, his eyes watching me darkly.
Would he stop me? Or would he finish what he started?
A sharp groan slipped from my throat.
“Fuck…”
My pace quickened. The pressure built fast, hot and desperate, and I was seconds away from release when—
**The door burst open.**
I jolted like I’d been electrocuted.
“Boss—” A tall man with a buzzcut and sharp suit stopped mid-step, eyes widening. His voice faltered. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t know anyone—fuck, my bad.”
“What the fuck?!” I snapped, yanking the nearest silk throw over myself. It barely reached my thighs. My heart was pounding, cock still painfully hard, now ignored and exposed in the worst way possible.
He turned his face away immediately, hand raised like a shield. “Shit. I— I thought Elio was still here with you.”
It was the guy from earlier. His second-in-command, I assumed. He looked older and colder than Elio. His stare cut through the room and landed on me like I was filth on the floor.
“You’re the hacker?” he asked, voice clipped.
I didn’t answer. My hands were under the covers, shaking, still wet from—
He scoffed. “Jesus Christ. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What do you want?” I spat, my voice hoarse.
He didn’t blink. “Boss isn’t back yet. But you should know—the Caruso cartel is sniffing around for you. Loudly.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“You heard me.” He stepped inside and shut the door behind him. “We picked up some chatter. Someone dropped your name, and now they want to know why you were in their system.”
No. I didn’t— I never accessed their system. What the fuck is he talking about?
I sat up, dragging the blanket with me, keeping it tight around my waist. “I— I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t,” he said. “But Elio brought you here, didn’t he?”
I swallowed, my throat dry.
“What do they want with me?” I asked, hating how small I sounded. Like I was already halfway to panicking.
The man didn’t answer right away. He stepped inside and closed the door gently behind him.
“I don’t ask questions I don’t need answers to,” he said. “But the Carusos don’t look for people unless they’re useful. Or unless they’re pissed.”
He stepped closer, stopping near the desk. “You got one shot at surviving this. And it’s not running. It’s staying under Romano’s protection.”
“Elio doesn’t give a shit about me,” I said, teeth clenched. “He barely tolerates me.”
The guy raised an eyebrow. “Then explain why he sent his best men to keep your mama and sister safe.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“Yeah,” he said, voice flat. “Guess he forgot to mention that.”
He did that for me yesterday. I mean… even I didn’t really give it a thought.
I felt something shift inside me. Like the floor had tilted.
The great Elio Romano actually cared for a poor boy like me?
I thought he was just planning to use me. Exploit me. Break me open and toss what’s left.
There was a long silence before he added, “Get dressed. He’ll be back soon. And if I were you? I’d stop doing things that make him lose control.”
He turned and walked out.
I sat there for a second, still half-hard, heart pounding, trying to process what the hell just happened. The air in the room felt different now. Heavy. Thick with something I didn’t know how to name.
*The Carusos are looking for you.*
What did I even do to them?
I helped them. I completed the fucking job. I delivered exactly what they asked for.
So why the fuck…?
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