Chapter 3 THE RED CEMETERY

DALLA 

The funeral for Silas Mulvaney’s chief messenger was today.

Although it was only his head that was sent back, He was loyal to the Mulvaneys till death, so he deserved a Funeral. 

The Mulvaney family gathered in their private cemetery, an estate made of marble angels and weeping willows. 

It was a sea of black suits and fake grief. Dalla stood by the open grave, his hands buried deep in his pockets, feeling the flash drive press against his thigh.

His father stood at the head of the casket, giving a speech about loyalty. 

“He was loyal till death.” Some said lowly. 

Dalla wanted to vomit. Loyalty in this family was a currency, and that was currently loosing it's value. 

Tobias stood five feet behind Dalla, his eyes hidden behind dark shades. 

He was like a statue in the rain that had started to fall, turning the dirt into a thick, red mud.

"You look like you're attending your own funeral," Dalla whispered, not turning around.

"We all are," Tobias replied.

The priest began the final rites. 

Dalla scanned the crowd, looking at the faces of everyone present. 

Then he saw his father’s consigliere, the man from the alley, standing near the back. 

He caught Dalla’s eye and gave a slow nod and a crooked smile. 

A chill that had nothing to do with the rain had settled in Dalla's bones.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by a high-pitched whistle.

"Down!" Tobias growled.

He tackled Dalla just as a bullet hit the center of the funeral procession. 

The explosion was deafening, sending dirt, marble, and body parts flying into the air.

Chaos erupted, Gunfire whistled through the trees—heavy, automatic gunfire. 

This wasn't just the usual warning; it was an extermination.

Everybody had taken Cover, while the bodyguards of the Mulvaney family stood behind multiple walls trying to take out the snipers. 

Tobias dragged Dalla behind a massive stone crypt. "Stay here. Do not move!"

"Like hell! I'm not dying in a cemetery!"

Tobias ignored him, walking to the open space without any cover. 

He drew two suppressed handguns from his harness and stepped out. 

Dalla watched through the iron bars of the crypt door. He had seen violence his whole life, but he had never seen this.

Tobias moved like a predator. 

He didn't seek cover at all. Everywhere he moved to, bodies dropped to the floor. 

Every shot was a kill. He moved through the gun smoke and rain, his suit was soaked, and his hair was plastered to his forehead. He looked like a monster. 

Terrifyingly Beautiful. 

Dalla felt a sudden, violent surge of heat in his lower stomach. 

He watched the way Tobias’s muscles coiled under his wet shirt, the way he didn't hesitate to take a life. 

The blood of their enemies spattered across Tobias’s face, and he didn't even wipe it away.

The sight alone was enough to make Dalla hard. 

His cock pulsed hard in his pants, creating a bulge. His breath came in ragged gasps as he watched the massacre. 

He had never been attracted to the family business of the chaos that came with it, but seeing Tobias dominate the field like a god of war... it did something to him.

It made him feel things he hadn't felt in months. He got hard without even trying for the first time in nine months. 

Tobias finished the last shooter, stepping over a pile of bodies to reach the crypt. He ripped the door open.

He was drenched in rain, Red mud, and darker blood stains in his clothes. 

His eyes were blown wide, his chest heaving. He looked at Dalla, and for a second, the professional mask was gone. There was only hunger.

"Are you hurt?" Tobias rasped, his hand gripping Dalla's shoulder as he inspected his body. 

His fingers left bloody streaks on Dalla's white shirt.

Dalla couldn't speak. He just stared at Tobias, his gaze dropping to the man’s throat, then back to his eyes.

"Dalla!" Tobias groaned. 

"I'm fine," Dalla whispered, his voice trembling.

Tobias pulled him out of the crypt, using his body to shield him as they walked out. 

The cemetery was a graveyard twice over now. 

Bodies were scattered everywhere.

"We have to go, more might come." He said in the softest Tone he could use. 

They ran for the Bulletproof SUV. 

Tobias drove like a madman, threading through the narrow country roads. 

Dalla sat in the passenger seat, his eyes fixed on Tobias’s profile.

"You're covered in Blood," Dalla said softly.

Tobias didn't look at him. "It’ll wash off."

"How about the memories? Does it?"

Tobias tightened his grip on the wheel., trying to ignore the question Dalla asked. 

If only Dalla knew the kind of memories haunting him, he'd realise that this was the smallest of his problems. 

Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" Dalla defended. 

"Like you have something you want to say to me."

Dalla leaned over the center console, his face inches from Tobias’s, sniffing his neck. 

The smell of copper and rain was overwhelming.

"Maybe, Slate. Maybe."

Tobias slammed on the brakes, the car halting in the middle of a deserted woods. He turned to Dalla, his face inches away.

Tobias growled. "You have no idea the kind of fire you're playing with."

Dalla didn't flinch. He reached out, staring at the slice on Tobias's cheek and traced the blood, then he licked his finger.

“When you're born in a burning house, no amount of fire can scare you.”

Tobias’s eyes darkened immediately. He grabbed Dalla’s wrist, his grip very painful.

"Don't," Tobias warned.

"Or what? Will you put me in my place? I'm waiting, Tobias. I've been waiting my whole life for someone to actually try."

A phone buzzed in the back seat. It was Dalla’s burner phone. A text from an unknown number appeared on the screen.

He leaned back, grabbing his phone to read the text. 

“They killed her because she saw what happened that night. Watch your back, and also the person who is right next to you.”