His Game His Rules (Last to Fall #2) Read Online J.A. Huss

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: J.A. Huss Series: Last to Fall Series by J.A. Huss
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"What the actual fuck do you think you're doing?"

The words emerge measured, precise. My control is my discipline—has always been my discipline. Even as the room tilts with implications so vast they threaten to drown us both.

Giovanni sighs. His mouth opens, then closes. His eyes turn inward, seeking alibis from a better version of himself that doesn't exist in this room.

Silence hangs between us, a failed confession.

I wait. Patience has always been my sacrament. I've waited through beatings, through torture training, through the slow drip of hours when targets refused to appear. I've waited through the shallow breathing of submissives who thought they could outlast me.

I've waited through death.

I can wait through Giovanni's hesitation.

But something inside me shifts, a tectonic movement beneath still waters. This isn't merely personal weakness—this is apostasy against everything we were raised to believe.

Everything we swore to uphold.

This goes much further than just a family murder.

"If Rico is dead, who’s that man on the other side of the world, partying on the beach? He's all over my fucking stories. Women in his lap, friends doing shots, beach life, night life⁠—"

Oh.

I shake my head, grunting out a laugh. "It's a deep fake, isn't it?"

Giovanni doesn't answer.

I begin marking transgressions on my fingers, the movement automatic. The cataloguing of sins is muscle memory. "You killed our cousin. You left a witness." Each word falls distinct, separate. "You brought that witness back here, into sanctuary. You've deliberately exposed her to family operations." My fingers continue marking each violation. "You placed her under my authority without informing me she’s a murder witness."

Giovanni's face darkens, the muscles in his jaw pulsing beneath skin. "Are you fucking done?"

"You compromised my professional contract." Another finger. "You endangered the entire Bavga operation." Another. "You risked war with the LaRiccia family⁠—"

"Shut your fucking mouth!" Giovanni explodes, crossing the distance between us. "You don't get to lecture me like I'm one of your little submissives!"

His forearm drives against my chest, shoving me backward. I absorb the motion, recalibrate. Allow him the illusion of advantage.

"This isn't about authority." I keep my voice level even as my pulse accelerates. "This is about survival. Yours, mine, hers. Everyone connected to the Bavga name."

"I had no choice." His voice cracks—a fissure in the foundation. "You didn't see what was happening."

"There is always choice." I step forward, matching his aggression. "The choice not to leave witnesses. The choice not to murder allies. The choice to remember who you are."

We circle each other, two wolves misaligned, the ancient patterns of aggression emerging from beneath civilization's thin veneer. His hands fist at his sides; mine remain open, ready.

"Since when do the LaRiccias qualify as allies?" He spits the word. "My whole fucking life, Rico has been a cancer."

"And your father tolerated that cancer." The truth lands between us like a sacrament. "For peace. For business. For blood."

Giovanni surges forward again, his palm connecting with my chest, growling out his words. "That son-of-a-bitch sacrificed me. To the LaRiccias. My own father. You know this. You know the only reason I'm alive today is because I took matters into my own hands."

I push back, equal force against equal force. A physical stalemate mirroring our ideological one. "Because a war is weighty thing, Giovanni. A war is something you wage when you have no choice. And being part of a family like ours requires that you put the good of all over the good of one. Arianna made her bed. She wasn't worth a war."

"Right," Giovanni whispers. "Arianna was a whore." The words tear from him like a confession. "She cheated. She broke vows."

"And that’s why your father allowed the punishment to stand," I say. "Sacred order requires sacred penalty. Even for blood."

"But I wasn't a fucking whore, Jino. I was a fucking kid. He let that stand too."

I blow out a breath, mind racing. I know he's right. What he's saying is true. But it was over twenty years ago now. "Let it go."

"Let it go?" he scoffs at me. "Let it go? No." He shakes his head and starts pacing now. "No, Jino. I'm not gonna let it go." He turns to look at me. And those green eyes—they are something else. It's a big reason why women fall for him so quickly. But even as a man, it's very hard to look Giovanni in the eyes when he locks them on you like a target. "I was a child. I paid him back in the only way I knew how. I survived." His words are calm now. Even, and steady, and low. "But that was then, and this is now."

I cannot believe what I just heard. "You did this on purpose."

"No." He breathes through that lie. Then lets it stand. "No. I didn't. But it’s an opportunity to make things even."

"You're going to… what? Take down your own fuckin' family? Is this what you're saying?


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