[BL] The Mafia Boss Wants My Body

Chapter 276: Chapter 276: The Things Fear Made Me Believe

Mark let out a short, disbelieving laugh and slowly shook his head.

"Charles..." he said, almost speechless. "What exactly did you expect me to say to him?"

"Everything!" Charles shouted. "Everything! Tell him I’m a good man! Tell him how amazing I am! Tell him how much I love and respect you! Just... be proud of me when you talk about me."

His breathing became uneven.

"Matteo tells you everything he plans for Adrian. His work, his home, his future... he talks about Adrian with so much pride. You can hear how much he loves him every time he speaks."

Charles pointed at Mark, tears streaming down his face.

"But what have you ever proudly told him about me? What plans have you ever shared with him about our future? Nothing. Nothing at all!"

His voice cracked.

"Sometimes I even think... if Matteo weren’t your twin brother... you would’ve found a way to steal Adrian from him."

"Charles!" Mark roared, his patience finally snapping. His voice thundered through the apartment.

"What?!" Charles shouted back without backing down. "Isn’t that the truth?"

He pointed at Mark with trembling fingers.

"When Adrian left your brother, everyone blamed him for walking away despite everything Matteo had done for him. But you..." His voice cracked. "You never blamed Adrian."

He laughed bitterly. "Instead, you blamed your own brother."

Charles shook his head, tears spilling down his face. "Not once did you say Adrian was wrong for leaving. Not once. Even though Matteo is your own twin brother, you still took Adrian’s side."

"I blamed Matteo because he was wrong," Mark shot back, his voice rising for the first time. "And I didn’t blame Adrian because I didn’t want him to think I had a personal issue with him. That’s all it was."

"Liar!" Charles screamed.

"When you found out Adrian was in Paris, you could’ve told Matteo immediately. But you didn’t."

His breathing became ragged.

"You keep saying you wanted Matteo to make the effort to find him himself, but I don’t believe that!"

He pointed at Mark with trembling hands.

"I think you didn’t want Matteo to find Adrian at all! I think you were jealous because Adrian wasn’t yours!"

For a moment, complete silence filled the apartment.

Then Mark laughed. It wasn’t a laugh of amusement. It was the kind of laugh that came from pure disbelief.

He slowly rubbed a hand over his face.

"What the actual fuck are you talking about, Charles?"

He looked at him as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. "Do you even realize how dangerous those accusations are?"

Mark shook his head. "If Matteo were standing here right now and heard you say that, we’d both be in serious trouble."

Charles gave a broken laugh.

"At least then he’d finally know the truth. He’d know his own brother is in love with his boyfriend. You like Adrian... but you’re sleeping with me while wanting me to be just like him. Why does everyone keep using me?"

The fight drained out of Charles in an instant.

He collapsed back onto the sofa, curling into himself as violent sobs shook his entire body.

"You’re all hurting me..." Charles cried, his voice muffled against the cushion. "Every single one of you... I’ve never done anything to deserve this. I wasn’t raised to argue with people or talk back to them. I’ve always tried to be a good person..."

His voice cracked.

"So why does everyone keep doing this to me?"

He buried his face deeper into the cushion.

"If nobody loves me... then just leave me alone. All of you... just leave me alone."

Mark stood in the middle of the living room, silently watching his boyfriend curled up on the sofa, sobbing uncontrollably.

He didn’t argue.

He didn’t raise his voice.

Without a word, he turned and walked down the hallway into the bedroom.

A few moments later, he returned carrying a thick, warm blanket.

He walked over to the sofa, leaned down, and gently draped it over Charles’s trembling body.

The moment the blanket touched him, Charles tore it off and threw it onto the floor.

"I don’t need your care!" he cried through his tears. "I don’t need your pity! I’ll be fine on my own. If you want to leave, then just leave!"

Mark let out a quiet sigh.

Still without speaking, he bent down, picked up the blanket, and carefully covered Charles with it again.

This time, Charles grabbed the blanket and hurled it straight back at Mark.

"I know you want to leave!" he shouted, his voice breaking. "You don’t have to pretend you still love me! You don’t have to pity me. Just go! I’ll be fine. Everyone ends up hurting me anyway... so go ahead and hurt me too."

Curling into himself again, he clutched the front of his shirt with both hands and turned his back to Mark. His shoulders shook violently.

"What did I ever do..." he whispered. "What did I ever do to deserve this?"

Mark looked at him quietly, not reacting to the outburst. He picked up the blanket one last time and gently tried to drape it over Charles again.

"Just get some sleep," Mark said softly. "You’ll feel better when you wake up."

That was the final straw.

Charles kicked the blanket off with all his strength, sending it crumpling onto the floor. He stepped onto it angrily, glaring at Mark through tear-filled eyes.

"I said I don’t want it!" he shouted. "Stop trying to tell me what to do! I’m not listening to anyone anymore. Just leave me alone!"

In a burst of frustration, he shoved Mark aside and stormed toward the bedroom.

But before he could take another step—

Smack!

His foot slammed straight into the corner of the coffee table.

"Ahh!" Charles cried out, instantly hopping onto one foot as he grabbed the injured one.

He glared at the coffee table as though it had personally betrayed him.

"What did I ever do to you?!" he yelled at it. "Even you want to hurt me now? I bought you with my own money!"

Standing a few feet away, Mark couldn’t stop the small chuckle that escaped him. For the first time since Charles started crying, the heaviness in the room eased ever so slightly.

Charles immediately whipped his head around and glared at him.

Mark cleared his throat and quickly wiped the smile from his face, returning to a perfectly straight expression.

Charles sniffled in annoyance, turned away, and continued hopping on one foot, grumbling under his breath.

"Everyone keeps hurting me..." he muttered. "Even my own table is against me."

Before he could take another clumsy hop, Mark crossed the distance between them.

Without warning, he bent down and effortlessly swept Charles into his arms.

"Put me down!" Charles protested, instinctively wrapping one arm around Mark’s neck to steady himself while his injured foot remained lifted. "I can walk! I don’t need your help!"

Mark didn’t respond.

He simply adjusted Charles more securely in his arms and continued toward the bedroom.

Charles balled his free hand into a fist and weakly pounded it against Mark’s chest. "I said put me down! I can walk just fine!"

Mark stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the hallway. He looked down at the hysterical man in his arms, his dark eyes narrowing.

Charles looked up at him as Mark came to a stop.

"Stop fighting me, you overthinking little cat," Mark warned, his voice dropping into a low, commanding tone. "Keep running that mouth of yours like an overfed rat, and I’ll personally fuck all that nonsense right out of your head. I don’t even know where you came up with half the garbage you were spewing out there."

Charles blinked, his voice suddenly dropping into a small pout. "Weren’t you the one who stayed silent and wanted to walk away?"

"I was going to the kitchen to make you something to eat, you jealous little white rabbit," Mark replied dryly.

Charles inhaled sharply, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

Only then did he realize how dramatic he’d been.

Without another word, he gave up resisting. He wrapped his other arm around Mark’s neck and relaxed completely in his embrace, burying his face against the crook of Mark’s neck as Mark carried him the rest of the way to the bedroom.

When they reached the bed, Mark gently laid him down.

Instead of stepping away, he moved to the foot of the bed and carefully lifted Charles’s injured foot onto his lap. His fingers gently examined the bruised toe before his thumbs began slowly massaging it, applying just enough pressure to ease the pain.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

The room was quiet except for Charles’s occasional sniffles.

As he continued gently rubbing Charles’s foot, Mark finally looked up.

"Charles..."

Charles immediately looked away, folding his arms across his chest with a stubborn pout.

Mark looked at him and couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at his lips.

"You know... you were actually kind of adorable just now when you were throwing that tantrum."

Charles refused to respond.

Mark’s smile slowly faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "I’m sorry... I’m sorry I made you feel that way. But I honestly can’t believe you’re jealous of your own best friend."

"I’m not jealous of him!" Charles shot back...