“This isn’t how it was supposed to end.”

Three days later, Mark had still not come to terms what had happened that fateful night. Damien’s death played through his mind over and over. He wished he’d done something different, though he didn’t know what, exactly. Never been born, maybe. All was misery. He sat on his bed, staring out the window at the garden, feeling hollow all the way to his core.

“That was exactly how it was always going to end,” Angelo said gently as he came into the room. He had been a pretty much constant presence since Damien passed away. Mark was pretty sure Angelo was worried about him doing something stupid.

Angelo put his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Damien knew what he was risking when he went up against me. He had a choice. Even at the end. But he stayed his path.”

“You did this to him!” Mark turned around, his eyes full of tears. “This is your fault!

“I didn’t send him on a mission of murder. He told me what he had intended for me at the outset, when we were in the warehouse. He told me he’d make me pay for everything. He tried. He tried to take you, Bobby, my freedom. And in the end, he tried to take my life. He was doing his job, Mark. And he did it damn well. Better than any who have come before him. But don’t cry for him. He was chosen because he had history with you. He used you, Mark.”

“No!”

“It’s time you saw this.”

Angelo pulled out his phone, opened a social media feed and showed Mark a picture. The profile belonged to a very pretty blonde woman named Mandy Colt. As soon as Mark saw the last name, his stomach started to churn. As Angelo swiped, he saw Damien and the woman together at parties, on the beach, taking silly selfies at brunch, and then worst of all - the woman herself in a hospital bed, holding a newborn. Damien was beside her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. In later pictures the baby was grown, and had those unmistakable blue green eyes.

“He was a special agent for a government agency known only as Unit Alpha,” Angelo explained gently. “He was living as a straight man. That apartment you were living in was a government place. There were cameras in every room. The whole place was mic’ed. He was never going be with you, or with us. This was a game to him, and he played it better than anyone I’ve ever met. Don’t mourn him, Mark. Be proud of him.”

“Be proud of him? For lying to me about everything?” Mark felt more sick than ever. “Be proud that he didn’t even get a funeral?”

“For being a man capable of doing the things he did. It doesn’t matter how his life ended. It mattered how he led it, and he did some remarkable things in his time.”

“You’re fucked up,” Mark said bitterly, looking at the smiling woman and the baby she was holding. “But if this is true, then so was he.”

“It’s true,” Angelo said calmly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I’m sorry he played with your mind and your heart.”

“You play with my mind and heart.”

“Not like that. My affection for you is real. I intend to keep you around.”

Angelo drew Mark into an embrace. “I am sorry,” he repeated. “I know you wanted Damien to become one of us. I know you wanted a life with him, but that was never going to happen. At least you got a few honest hours with him at the end.”

“You mean at least I got to fuck his mouth?” Mark managed a half smirk as he pulled away from Angelo’s embrace. “Jesus, Angelo.”

“Silver linings,” Angelo smirked. “I wanted it to work out, but when he pulled that gun…”

“I know,” Mark sighed, a stray tear rolling down his cheek. “It was over. Really it was over the moment you met him in that courthouse bathroom. He should never have come anywhere near you.”

“True,” Angelo said. “Now, I know you’re going to be in mourning for some time, but Bobby is being a prize pain in the ass. Would you like to be a pain in his?”

Mark stood and stretched, flexing his arm muscles. He was still hurt, but life as a Vitali was about being hurt and carrying on anyway. It was going to take time to come to terms with the many layers of betrayal they had visited on one another, but what mattered was the present - and the fact that it had been far too long since he’d punished Bobby.

“That would be a pleasure.”

“Good boy,” Angelo smiled. “I should say, good man.”

“Man, huh?” Mark arched a questioning brow.

“Men learn to deal with loss,” Angelo said. “You’ve just had the first of many. You’ll lose us all one day. You’ll even lose your own dear self. Best to practice with liars and traitors first.”

Mark snorted softly. Everything was so easy and clear to Angelo. But maybe he was right. Damien’s death was a tragedy, there could be no doubting that, but he had come into Mark’s life with an agenda and every minute of their association had been a lie. It wasn’t Damien he was mourning, it was the facade of Damien. Damien had represented the very last traces of hope for any kind of normality. In his presence, Mark had been forced to face once and for all the fact that this truly was his life. He was a Vitali through and through, and this really was…

THE END