HIDE

EPISODE 27 - SICILY.

Aldo Massimo’s villa was breathtaking.

They arrived just as the sun was setting over the seaside, and Brandon stopped, awed by the sheer beauty of it. The water glittered like diamonds as it reflected the sunset, and the tall mountains surrounding the beautiful lake made him feel incredibly small.

“Damn,” he whispered, all the tiredness after the long flight, gone.

He turned his head and found Wilson looking at the lake with a very strange expression, his hands in the pockets of his suit pants. Was that disgust in his gaze?

“Did you miss it?” Brandon said before he could stop himself. “America has beautiful places, too,” Brandon said without any change in his voice.

“But it isn’t home,” Brandon said quietly.

Wilson said nothing.

Brandon eyed his hard profile. He hadn’t missed the shift in his boss’s mood ever since they’d landed in Sicily. There was something… different about him, in the way he held himself. Even his voice sounded a little softer, more friendly when he spoke in Italian, and Brandon found himself fascinated, wishing he understood the language.

There was another difference—and one that unnerved Brandon a little. Bodyguards in dark suits were now following them everywhere, their faces grim and blank. It made Brandon feel a little jumpy and ridiculous as if he’d gotten involved in some bad s**t. Wilson barely seemed to notice them, entirely ignoring their presence. He was probably used to that kind of lifestyle.

When Brandon grabbed his suitcase, Wilson said sharply, “Leave it.

Lornado and Carter will take care of our baggage.” Then he laid his hand on Brandon’s nape and steered him toward the beautiful villa.

Two men emerged out of the house. The older man was a bit older than Wilson but was of the same height and skin tone, or maybe a little taller, his brown eyes assessing and sharp as they flicked between him and Wilson.

“Welcome,” he said, his voice neutral as he stretched his hand out for Brandon to shake. “Aldo Massimo.”

Brandon shook his hand, a little surprised that he was being greeted first. He’d thought he’d just be ignored. “Brandon Daniel,” he said, shooting a confused look at his boss.

Wilson’s face betrayed nothing, his hand still on Brandon’s nape, heavy and familiar.

“We weren’t aware you were bringing someone,” Massimo said in the same carefully neutral tone, his gaze shifting to Wilson. He finally shook his hand.

“Is that a problem?” Wilson said, his voice equally reserved.

“Not at all!” said the guy beside Massimo, his accent smooth and his voice friendlier than that of the other two. “The more, the merrier.” He was a young man, likely in his early twenties, with straight, brunette hair that made him look even younger than he probably was. He was dressed kind of extravagantly, his floral yellow and black shirt and plain black shorts a total contrast next to Massimo’s white dress shirt and dark pants.

The guy gave Nate a friendly smile. “I’m Jacob Ford, by the way. It’s just… It’s a pretty small villa—there isn’t a free room for you, I’m afraid. All the other guests have already arrived, and they’ve taken all the best rooms.”

“It’s not a problem,” Wilson said before Brandon could say anything, putting his hand back on Brandon’s neck, his touch more caressing than it normally was.

Brandon barely stopped himself from flinching. He smiled faintly, his face becoming warm when an expression of understanding appeared on Jacob’s face.

“Great, then,” Jacob said, exchanging a brief look with Massimo before turning back to them. “Come on, let me show you your room. Your bodyguards can stay in the security house with our bodyguards.”

“They’ll stay outside our room,” Wilson stated.

Jacob shook his head with a sunny smile. “Sorry, but no men with guns are allowed into the house. My house, my rules.” He looked Wilson in the eyes, his gaze becoming serious. “Look, I… understand why you might be cautious, but I give you my word. You don’t need bodyguards here. I don't want it to look like we are going to war. I had insisted on no bodyguards but, on second thought, I had to respect your decision.”

After a long moment, Wilson looked from Jacob to Massimo. The Italian gave a clipped nod, something rueful about his expression. “He took away even my gun,” he said in a slightly disgruntled voice.

Jacob smiled and pecked him on the cheek quickly. “It’s for your own good, Massi.”

Taking their suitcases from the bodyguards, Brandon and Wilson followed Jacob into the house.

Brandon barely paid attention to Jacob’s tour through the villa, still reeling from the reality of it all. f**k, what was he doing here, among these filthy rich people who owned villas on Madrid's most expensive properties and talked about stuff like bodyguards and guns as if it were completely normal?

“The room is a bit small,” Jacob said apologetically, pushing a door open. “If I knew that you were bringing someone along, I would have had the bigger ones kept for you.”

Brandon nearly laughed when they entered the spacious bedroom with a stunning lake view. A bit small, his ass.

“It’s fine,” he said with a faint smile, trying not to stare at the king-sized bed that dominated the room.

“You’re probably tired. I’ll let you rest. We’ve already had supper, but if you’re hungry, just push this button—the maids can bring you something to eat.”

“Thank you.”

When the door closed behind Jacob, Wilson walked around the room, his gaze sharp. Searching.

“What are you doing?” Brandon said, following him with his eyes.

“It doesn’t look like there are cameras here.”

Brandon let out a laugh. “Seriously? We aren’t in a gangster movie.”

Wilson sighed, shrugging out of his suit jacket. “You’d be surprised how many businessmen use those methods in real life. Monitoring your opponent is a thing.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Brandon said, reading between the lines.

Normal businessmen might not use such methods, but Aldo Massimo had a very roughened reputation. It was probably smart to be careful, even though they had nothing to hide—besides the fact that they weren’t really in a relationship.

He looked at the bed again and his stomach did a little tightening, He was being ridiculous. The bed was big enough for a family. They could share it without touching each other. It wouldn’t be an issue.

“They seem like a great couple,” Brandon said, just to say something.

Wilson made a derisive sound, unbuttoning his shirt. “A strange one. They couldn’t be more different.”

“You wouldn’t recognize a good relationship if it smacked you in the face,” Brandon said, opening Wilson’s suitcase. Then he stopped. It wasn’t his f*****g job to unpack his boss’s clothes. He wasn’t actually his manservant. Girlfriend Or wife.

Brandon scowled, rubbing the back of his very warm neck.

He opened his own suitcase and grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of

boxers. “I’m going to shower first,” he said, feeling—and probably sounding —incredibly awkward. He wasn’t even sure why. He just felt on edge, his skin tingling, too tight, too something.

He glanced back at Wilson, who was unbuckling his belt, already shirtless. Why was he uncomfortable? He has seen Wilson shirtless and with c**k out a couple of times, what was different now?

Wilson's eyes met his.

Swallowing, Brandon turned away and hurried off to the bathroom.