Page 4 of Into Hell: Prelude (Holding Cell: Return to the Island)
T hank the gods, it's wonderful to be home!” Ardan sighed, sinking into his leather armchair behind his desk. The chair creaked under his weight, wrapping him in comfort. “I saw Seamus briefly on my way here. I'm thrilled he's finally back.” His voice carried genuine relief.
“Yes, and he's already up to no good.” Fabian chuckled, amused by their friend's antics. His grin widened, eyes sparkling with amusement and affection. “But I think you know that. After all, you're the boss,” he added, teasing yet respectful.
“And you are my wise advisor and my Pater,” Ardan replied, his voice respectful and loving. “Right now, I need your wisdom and support.” He ran a tired hand over his face, showing his weariness.
Fabian studied the younger man, concern on his face. “Son, you don't look good. What happened out there?” His voice softened, hiding worry. “Was it that bad?”
“I'll let you be the judge of that.” Ardan exhaled a long, heavy sigh, weighed down by the burden of his troubles. “The dons of the reputable Chicago and Detroit Mafia families said we will have their full, unconditional support...if we attack first.”
“That’s...they refuse to help us but are too cowardly to say it to our face.
” Fabian's fists clenched, frustration overtaking his composure.
“Everyone knows we at The Base prefer negotiations over war, and by that, they have their backs covered.” His voice was sharp, mirroring his tumultuous emotions.
Ardan shook his head, sadness and defeat in his eyes. “Even some of the wisest gang leaders and dons do not realize that, once ignited, this war will destroy everything: businesses, lives, families…” His voice faded, burdened by foresight.
“It is truly a tragedy,” Fabian replied, somber yet hopeful.
“Fortunately, some see through Montemayor’s true intentions and refuse his snare.
I’m thinking of Don Giuseppe Fenelli, Don Luciano Manzani, Don Antonio Garofalo from Detroit, Everett Isbell-Manfredi, and the Lombardi family from Chicago.
” Fabian tried to steer the conversation toward hope, his voice lifting.
Ardan nodded, relief softening his face. “Indeed, more oppose this bloody conflict than are fooled by it.” The Base leader paused, taking a deep breath. “There’s a newcomer, a rising force who unites the smaller gangs under him. He offered support with one condition.”
Fabian leaned in, curiosity sparking in his eyes.
“Arman Bedrossian. Yes, I know him. His name suggests Armenian roots, but he lacks their fiery demeanor.
He's a skilled negotiator, diplomat, and knows Mafia politics. Teaming with Bedrossian would strengthen us,” Fabian said eagerly. “What are his terms?”
“To help him find his son.”
“Arman Bedrossian has a son? This is game-changing.” Fabian's eyes widened with excitement as he rubbed his hands together, a spark igniting in his gaze.
“His section of Chicago was a high-risk area, teetering on the edge of chaos, and selecting a successor could foster peace and long-term stability there.”
Ardan nodded seriously, saying Bedrossian hasn't considered the points raised and is just a father searching for his son, missing for two days. He heard about The Base and suspects his son might be there. He then shows a recent photo of the boy, taken three weeks ago.
Fabian leaned in, carefully examining the photograph.
It showed a blond teenager with delicate, almost androgynous features that seemed to tell their own story.
His pale skin and distant, melancholic eyes tugged at the heart.
“This poor soul looks undernourished and unhappy,” Fabian said softly, shaking his head with a sorrowful tone.
“It’s heartbreaking to see them like this. ”
“I don't think I recognize him. The face seems unfamiliar, but he might have been here when I was away.” Ardan rose, the chair softly creaking as he pushed it back.
He walked around the desk, footsteps quiet on the hardwood floor.
When he reached Fabian, he pulled him into a warm, heartfelt hug, expressing gratitude and warmth.
“As always, you give me the best advice and ideas, and I truly value having you in my life, Pater.”
“I'm glad I could help, son.” Fabian examined the other man's face with gentle focus, slowly freeing himself from the warm hug.
“You seem exhausted; you should be home now, either resting or spending time with Alasdair, Paisley, and Axel.
" He gave a warm smile, his blue eyes sparkling with an inviting warmth.
“I swear, those two grow smarter with each passing day.”
“And taller and a little heavier, too.” Ardan beamed, his turquoise eyes glowing with a vibrant light. “I missed them so much, so I believe I'll take your advice and end the day here. I'll reach out to Fergus, Brennan, and Lothier to apologize for not meeting them as planned.”
Fabian gave Ardan a reassuring pat on the back before they exited the office, parting ways outside the administrative building.
Despite his exhaustion, Ardan decided to walk half a mile home, the crisp autumn air helping clear his mind.
Leaves crunched beneath his feet, and the cool breeze carried the earthy scent of fallen leaves, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace.
As Ardan approached his home, his excitement grew, though he tried to control it. When he reached the end of his driveway, he quickly ran to the front door. My Spitfire will probably scold me for this, Ardan thought with a smile, pausing to catch his breath.
“Cars were invented for a reason, you know,” came the familiar, enchanting voice that sent a delightful shiver down Ardan's spine, his heart now racing for a different reason. “Welcome back, my love. I've missed you so much,” Alasdair purred, resting his head against Ardan's chest.
“Papa's home!” Paisley and Axel burst from their room, stopping inches from the men, who exchanged amused glances.
“I told you I saw him through the window,” the little girl exclaimed, turning to her brother as she wrapped her arms around Ardan's legs.
“I missed you so much,” she sighed happily, “I'm so happy you're back.”
“I love you, Papa,” Axel whispered in his gentle voice, his turquoise eyes sparkling with joy. “Here's what I made for you.” The little boy handed his father a piece of paper.
“Oh, that's...” Ardan's eyes welled up with tears as he gazed at the drawing depicting two adults, three boys, and two young children—a boy and a girl. “That's truly beautiful, son. Thank you very much.” He scooped up the little boy, holding him close to his chest.
“Axel drew another one with you wearing a superhero cape, with all the kids you rescued. Our teacher says he's the most talented in the class,” Paisley chimed in, her voice filled with sisterly pride and affection.
Ardan bent down, holding Axel snug in his arms while gathering Paisley as well, and headed to the children's spacious playroom with Alasdair closely following.
Since discovering his husband's atrial fibrillation diagnosis during his time in Chicago, the redhead had been keeping a careful eye on Ardan at home, making sure he avoided any strenuous activities.
Even Alasdair, with his charming tongue and alluring smile, couldn't stop his soulmate from scooping up their children and carrying them to the living room or play area, depending on the day. Sometimes, they'd turn the house into their playground, filled with laughter and energy.
For Ardan, Paisley and Axel were the very essence of innocence and new beginnings, and he cherished all his children deeply. The red-haired twins, like Alasdair, were his sanctuary, a peaceful refuge amid life's chaos.
In the sunlit room where they frequently gathered, Paisley and Axel enthusiastically recounted stories about their teachers, classmates, and friends.
Their young voices echoed with enthusiasm.
Whenever both fathers were there, the children focused on Ardan, who listened intently to their tales, his eyes shining with love and pride.
That day was no different. Through lively stories, playful games, and the contagious sound of laughter, the hours quietly passed until evening shadows stretched, marking dinnertime.
Alasdair slipped into the kitchen, his movements smooth and precise as he started to make a light meal.
Ardan joined him soon after, wrapping his arms around the redhead's waist from behind, gently kissing him and whispering soft promises into his ear, their shared warmth offering a brief escape from the world.
Later, Ardan and Alasdair quietly left the children's room, gently closing the door to keep Paisley and Axel's sleep undisturbed after bedtime stories and giggles from tickling. They walked hand in hand to their bedroom, footsteps soft as whispers in the quiet night.
Once there, Ardan let out a deep, primal growl and captured Alasdair's lips with a fierce, consuming kiss that sent shivers through the redhead's body.
The husbands hurriedly shed each other's clothes in a rush of passionate urgency, leaving nothing but bare skin between them.
Pressed close together, their bodies aflame, they moved toward the ensuite bathroom, swaying to the rhythm of their shared desire.
In the shower, the heated passion softened into gentle affection as Alasdair tenderly washed his husband's every curve, savoring each moment.
Ardan returned the loving attention, his eyes shining with adoration, as he traced Alasdair's form with delicate kisses, the warmth of the cascading water cleansing them both.
Once they finished in the shower, the two men carefully dried each other off before heading back to the main room, their hands intertwined.
Ardan settled on the bed, leaning against the headboard, and beckoned Alasdair with a seductive look.
Nodding, Alasdair grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand and joined his husband, straddling his waist with anticipation.
Ardan readied his Spitfire, applying the same gentle care as in their lovemaking, coating himself liberally with the slick lube. Alasdair, aflame with the need to be claimed, slowly descended onto his husband's firm cock, feeling the fullness of him inside.
Wrapping his arms around Ardan's neck, the redhead began to move, his hips performing a languid dance of seduction and longing, his snug passage gripping Ardan's shaft, driving him wild with need.
With each deliberate thrust, a warm, tingling sensation coiled in Alasdair's core, growing more intense with every moment.
A playful smile on his lips, Ardan spat into his hand, slicking Alasdair's rigid member, stroking it with increasing fervor.
Alasdair thrust into Ardan's firm grip as he rode his husband's cock with mounting urgency, until they both reached a crescendo of bliss, surrendering to waves of pure ecstasy.
My Spitfire and I are destined to be one. Together, we are whole, perfect complements to each other, Ardan reflected, his hands caressing Alasdair's damp skin. Our love is eternal, and through our children, it will endure forever.