Angel Dust

As far as Valentino is concerned, Valentino can do almost anything he fucking wants to. He's a powerful man, and very rarely does someone dare to tell him no, at least not without consequence. Granted, bedding his boss's son could potentially come with consequences of its own, but Valentino isn't exactly worried. He's confident in his ability to lie if he has to, and it's not the first major secret he's ever had to keep.

He's been tempted before. By exorbitant amounts of money, by pretty women, by power offered to him by outside circles for a number of things in exchange, but he's always resisted. Anthony, though, has been something he's coveted in secret. Watching him from afar whenever they've crossed paths or brushed metaphorical shoulders, keeping quiet tabs to make sure he always comes out on the other side of a job relatively unscathed, quietly pulling strings in the background if he has to to make sure that's always the case. Valentino has been tempted by many things, but Anthony is perhaps the easiest thing to cave for. What's the downside? They have to hide a little, pretend their connection is strictly business? It's not as if half of Valentino's life doesn't require him to hide major parts of it for personal safety and benefit. The Don trusts him, perhaps a little too much, but if that means Valentino can put his hands on his son without him ever being the wiser, then Valentino isn't worried.

He laughs, a low, gravelly sound, the hand at Anthony's lower back flattening, palm hot even through his shirt.

"Mi cariño," he practically purrs, fingers gently kneading at the back of Anthony's neck. Quite suddenly, he uses the knee he has on the bed as leverage and puts most of his weight on it, leaning into Anthony and dipping him back, hand supporting his lower back as he lays him out and bridges over him, sliding a hand out to carry his own weight against the bed. Valentino smiles from above him, his dark hair falling a bit messily around his face. "We can do anything."