Obey: Chapter One (Maddox)

Updates once per week. UNEDITED DRAFT. Content notes apply only to this part.

My loud breaths fill the room, interspersed by his grunts. 

Anybody who walks by outside can probably hear us, no matter how desperately I’m trying to swallow all of my sounds. I can’t really stop the shelf from rattling as he pounds into me, though.

The broom that’s propped up on the wall next to me shakes every time I get pushed into the wall. It’s going to tip over soon. I should say something, but I know if I say anything at all he’s going to stop, pull out, and leave me unsatisfied.

“Take it,” Knives growls, slamming into me even harder. “You aren’t too much of a coward for that, are you?”

I squeeze my eyes tight, trying to let the words slide off of me like water off a duck’s back. 

I always do, when it comes to him. I have to, if I’m going to get past his needling and snark and… well-deserved loathing. 

Why do I do this to myself?

I shove back up against him, desperately pleading without words for him to keep going. 

Knives digs his fingers into my hips even harder. I don’t know if he’s doing it on purpose, but I like that hint of pain. 

If he knew I liked it, he’d probably stop, actually. 

I squeeze my ass tighter and bite down on my lip at the next drag of his cock against my prostate. 

Knives suddenly grabs the back of my neck and squeezes, sending another jolt of pleasure through me. “If you want to come, you’d better do it now. I’m not touching your cock.”

I want to protest, but then he might do what he did last time, and I don’t have time to find a spare shirt somewhere in the mansion.

I grab my own cock, pumping furiously as I try to bring myself closer to climax. I’m going to make a mess, but if I do what he wants, he won’t pull out and come all over the back of my shirt. Again. 

I’m on the edge when I feel his thrusts turn erratic. His hand on my neck twists, threatening to grab me by the throat instead and constrict my breathing.

I almost wish he would.

I berate myself yet again for being so passive, so willing to take what he gives me without daring to ask for a single thing in turn. He uses me like I’m a cocksleeve, and I beg him for more with every choked-back cry and tremble of my body.

I should stop this. I should tell him no. I shouldn’t let myself be trapped in fucking closets with him when I know perfectly well how this is going to go. 

Knives lets out a low groan. I assume he’s coming, and I wish we could do this without condoms.

That’s stupid and impractical though. I should be glad he’s using a condom. Clean-up would be hell otherwise, especially when we’re short on time.

An ugly part of me whispers that it’s probably a good idea because I don’t know how many other men he’s fucking. If he has these quick fucks with me, who he hates with a passion, how many other casual one-night-stands does he have?

I wish I wasn’t despondent at the thought.

My hand stills on my cock, my own orgasm a mere afterthought. 

Knives pulls out with barely a grunt. My ass clenches around the emptiness.

I don’t turn to watch him as he zips up his slacks. I hear the lid of the trashcan swing, then the door opening and shutting. He’s gone without a single word at all.

Well, he’d ordered me against the wall, and he’d told me he wouldn’t touch my cock. That might be better than the few times he literally hadn’t spoken to me during these trysts.

It’s only been a few months since he came to New Bristol. At first, I’d almost thought he’d followed me there, but I know better. 

Why would he purposely put himself in my life? 

Our employer, openly gay mafia don Silvano Cresci, had to appeal to him, too. Parts of New Bristol are safe for us, and it’s nice to be respected and not derided, to not have to hide who I am too much.

It doesn’t stop me from tucking so much away and quietly carrying on.

I’ve gone soft that quickly, and I no longer have the urge to come. I tuck myself away, adjust my pants and my shirt, and stare at the door to the closet for a moment. 

One glance at my phone tells me I’m going to be late for my meeting if I don’t hurry, though, and I curse before heading out into the mansion’s hallway. I used to get lost in the Cresci home, but I’ve learned my way to Silvano’s office, at least.

When I get there, I’m right on the dot, and I breathe out slowly. I’d wanted to be early, but there had been Knives, and he’s always clouded my better judgment. 

I knock quietly on the door. 

“Come in,” Silvano says from the other side.

I slick back my hair one more time before going in.

I stop short when I see that Knives is already in the room. I hadn’t expected him—he normally works with Evan Griffin, Silvano’s head of security. But Evan is here, as is Kyran Winters, Silvano’s consigliere. The only one missing is Cristiano Fiore, Silvano’s underboss.

“Boss,” I say to Silvano, pretending I’m not put off by Knives’s presence.

“Punctual, as I said,” Silvano says, looking to Kyran with a smile. 

Kyran, who’s considerably bigger than Silvano, rolls his eyes. “Barely.” He glares at me. “Don’t keep Silvano waiting again.” 

He’s not someone I want to piss off, even though Silvano is the real boss. 

My cheeks flush. “I’ll be early next time,” I promise, trying not to seem too desperate to please but failing miserably. Fucking Knives. 

I sneak a peek at him. He doesn’t look like he’d just been fucking someone. His black hair is pristine, his beard is well-groomed, and his clothes look perfectly in order.

Me, on the other hand? I’m lucky if I don’t look like a whore. I should’ve taken a moment in the bathroom, but I would’ve been late. 

“Since we’re all here now, we can get started.” Silvano taps his fingers on his desk, a habit I’ve noticed. It’s like he can’t handle not doing something with his hands. He’s always fidgeting with them, twirling pens or paperclips or rummaging around his desk. “I’m sure we all have better things to do than sit in meetings.”

“Do you?” Evan asks with a smirk. “I think sitting in meetings is the only thing you do, S.”

The banter is familiar, at least, and I relax a little. Whatever is going on, it’s not so serious that Evan’s lost his humor.

“Well, everybody else has better things to do, then.” Silvano looks over to me. “Regardless. We’re going to talk about the missing weapons shipments. The ones that somehow keep losing their way from Mexico to New Bristol.”

Knives grimaces, but he doesn’t say anything.

He’s probably wondering what he’s doing here, since he does security. He isn’t in charge of any of the Cresci Family’s day-to-day operations. We’re both working our way up the ladder, though his place is arguably more important since he guards Silvano and his men with his life.

I’m getting there, though, even if I feel like an idiot for constantly looking to Silvano for approval. I even look to Kyran, for all that he can be a surly bastard. 

Maybe Silvano just needs to put out more.

“There was a GPS tracker on the most recent shipment,” I report. “The last known location of the shipment was in New Valence before the tracker stopped functioning. As far as I know, there hasn’t been any report of law enforcement activity, and we don’t have any enemies there, right?”

“New Valence,” Kyran says, incredulous. “Like Louisiana New Valence? Like all the way across the fucking country? How the fuck does something get lost there?” 

I grimace, my shoulders slumping as I stare down at the floor. “Our men were giving regular updates,” I say quietly, feeling defeated. 

“It is a rather large mistake,” Silvano says in a moderate tone. He doesn’t sound angry, but I feel the accusation cut into me.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I say, standing up straighter. “I’ll fix it.”

“You will,” Silvano agrees. His smile is darker, less friendly. “Because I can’t trust you with other business if things like this keep happening.”

I swallow hard. My cheeks are burning, and all I can hear is the disappointment.

It’s not familiar from Silvano. I’m used to doing a good job. The last thing I need is to get demoted because I was careless. I shouldn’t have trusted the men to give updates. I should’ve insisted they get the GPS working again. I should’ve done so many other things. 

Now I realize I have no idea what to do. 

I clear my throat. “I’ll start talking to the men. I’ll figure out what happened.” I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” I say again. 

“This is all nice and all,” Evan interrupts, “But why are Knives and I here?”

“You’re here because you’re my bodyguard,” Silvano says. His eyes flicker over to Knives. “And Knives is here because he’s going to help Maddox with this task.”

I go still. I don’t dare look at Knives. I don’t want to see the disgust on his features. I don’t want to see him balk. I know better than to argue with Silvano. He’s not going to send Evan with me even though I’d dearly prefer him. I guess the others already have their assignments. “Yes, sir,” I say, trying for nonchalant but pretty sure I fail miserably. 

Maybe if I hadn’t fucked up so bad, I could try to get someone else assigned to me, but I’m on thin ice. 

“What? Why?” Knives stands up straighter. “Sir, I don’t do… all of that stuff.”

Silvano fixes his gaze on Knives. “You do whatever I tell you to do, Knives. Everything I know about this situation leads me to believe there’s some form of sabotage happening. I don’t want to waste more men than I need to on this, so we’ve got Maddox, who is familiar with the situation and knows the ins-and-outs of our weapons business. And there’s you, who is very competent at protection and is frankly wasted as a guard here. You can do something more useful.”

Knives scowls and clenches his fist, but he’s just as aware as I am that talking back to Silvano would be a bad idea.

Kyran’s threatening presence right behind Silvano is only one of the reasons to obey.

Evan looks between us and smirks. He knows something’s up. 

They all do.

This feels like a particularly honed dagger to the heart, like this is Silvano’s way of saying ‘set your shit aside and get things done.’ 

It’s a test, and I realize I resent him a little for it.

I straighten. “Yes, boss,” I say. “I have a few contacts in New Valence…” I trail off, shaking my head. “I’ll handle it.” 

“Yes, boss,” Knives echoes. “I’ll see what I can dig up too.”

Silvano rests his chin against his hand. “I’m sure my two up-and-coming stars will do a wonderful job. I should make it clear that I’m extremely busy and the only time I want to hear from the two of you again is once there is a concrete plan in place or you’ve recovered the shipments. I do not give a single fuck about any other issues. Understood?”

Up-and-coming stars. Ha. I don’t feel like a rising star right now. I feel like an asteroid headed into the atmosphere, about to explode into millions of tiny pieces. 

“Yes, boss,” I repeat. “I’ll have a report for you by the end of tomorrow.” 

I hope. 

Knives nods curtly. “Maybe we can track sales of weapons. If somebody is selling our goods—”

Silvano waves his hand dismissively. “I don’t care. Figure it out, then get back to me.” He looks between me and Knives. “That’s all. Get out of here before Cristiano and Fox arrive for my meeting with them, since the only thing I do all day is meetings.”

“You’ve got a meeting with Mancini later today, don’t you?” Evan points out. “Unless you had me scope out that venue for no reason.”

Knives and I are clearly no longer welcome in here. We both head for the door, and Knives growls when we almost bump into each other.

I flinch away from him, but I can almost feel the heat of his body against mine, the memory of him shoving me against the wall to fuck me hard in the forefront of my mind.

I wish we hadn’t already fucked. I wish we could do it now and get some of these thoughts out of my brain.

“Sorry,” I mutter, letting him go ahead of me. I close the door behind me, and when he goes to walk off, I start to reach out before I catch myself. “Hey. We need to work on this,” I remind him. 

Knives stops to glare at me. “We’ll work on it. I’m not going to fail the boss. But that doesn’t mean I need to be in the same room as you.”

“Be professional,” I hiss. “We need to come up with a strategy. You heard him. We have to work together.”

I know you hate me, I want to say. But just give me a chance, Naheem. I’m not just a piece of ass to hate-fuck.

“Professional,” Knives says derisively. “If I could trust you not to stab me in the back, sure.” He makes a disgusted noise. “Whatever. Do your thing. I’ll research on my own. We’ll discuss this tomorrow morning.”

“You trust me enough to fuck me inside the supply closet,” I hiss at him. 

“Yeah, with your back to me,” he retorts.

“I am not a backstabber!” I say, wounded by the words even though I know he isn’t entirely wrong. But it had been years ago. I keep thinking he’ll forgive me, but it doesn’t seem like that’s ever going to happen. 

Whatever Knives is going to say next, he cuts himself off as Cristiano Fiore and “Fox” round the corner.

I’m still not sure I know who Fox really is, or what he does here, other than occasionally shoot people.

“Don’t stop whisper-fighting on our account,” Fox says cheerfully. “I’m dying to know who’s backstabbing whom.”

“No one is backstabbing anyone,” I say, but my tone is subdued as I look between him and Cristiano. Shame washes over me that Knives and I got caught fighting in the hallway. “Sorry. I’m going.” 

Cristiano looks between the two of us, shaking his head. “Get this shit sorted out,” he says. “Before Silvano makes you.”

I let out a choked little laugh. “Yeah. About that…” 

“There’s nothing to sort,” Knives interrupts coldly. “I’m going to do my job now.” He shoulder-checks me as he walks off.

We all watch his retreating form. Once he’s gone, Fox says, “Geez. And I thought I was immature.”

“You are,” Cristiano says calmly. He opens the door to Silvano’s office, grabbing Fox by the back of the neck and shoving him into the office with as much grace as Knives had shown me earlier. 

Fuck.

I am so screwed. 

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