He’d had to come one more time before he went soft. He was insatiable. She was too. His lust was welcome. They fucked in the shower. Face to face with hot water streaming and splashing around them. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her back pressed against warm tile. Kissing and fucking and scratching his back.

Now they were in the deep tub and she was glad she didn't cook something that needed to be hot when he walked in the door. This was better than eating. She'd cook those involtini when they went back downstairs. God, if they went back downstairs.

Second bath of the day for Daniella. Hair wet and slicked back from her face, combed behind her ears. Her back pressed to his chest, his big knees on either side of hers, laying in his lap, both of them looking out the window at the foot of the tub as snow fell again, three days in a row. His sleeping cock rested against her rump. Just taking a nap, recuperating.

“You get the guy?” she said, running her hands over the crests of his bent knees. Felt him shake slightly with laughter.

“Not yet,” he grumbled behind her ear.

“You find out anything?” she said, laying her head back against his hard chest.

“Know what? No. Nothing. Which is weird. I got feelers out.” His hand covered hers, draped over the one she had on his right knee. “Don't worry. I’ll get him.”

“I know you will,” she sighed.

“What’d you make me?”

“For dinner? Braciola. Involtini, beef. Salad... Dessert,” she laughed, and felt him squeeze her, brought out more giggling as he nuzzled his mouth into her neck.

“Woop,” she blurted, seeing her nipples stretch out yet again, swiped a facecloth from the edge of the tub, whisked it in warm water and covered herself up. His finger traced her swollen buds where they pressed through the facecloth anyway.

“I’m glad you found something to do today,” he said, hands coming back to cradle her against him.

“I missed you.”

“I couldn't wait to get home. I brought you some things you like. Sugar...”

“Lady fingers?”

“Yeah, I got you lady fingers. All sorts of good stuff. In that cardboard box. Bought you a gift too.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll see. In that wooden case I brought.”

“Yeah?” she said, “Thank you.” She took up his hand, so much larger than hers, watched her little fingers weave between his, poke through the gaps and wiggle at her. She’d kept herself busy today, puttering around the kitchen and while it was fun, the smells, the tastes, the music, it did divine a flux of sadness from deep within. She missed her family, missed being in the Nero mansion. Missed her Dad. Cooking like her mother did made her think of him today. Nothing was the same since he was gone.

Sensing her sadness, sensing her weight settle against him maybe, a poignant tilt to her head, he said, “I miss him too. I loved your dad. Wish I coulda said good-bye.”

She nodded, her hair scratching against his chest.

“Such a hard man. But fair. And he was kind,” Rocco said. “He was good for the city. In the end, all those men he ruled, all those adversaries wanted him dead, but he squashed them...or put them to work and kept them busy...then he dies of kindness.”

“Kindness?” she said.

“He died from a good life. He was a happy man, I always thought.”

“He was. He was tough, but he loved to have fun,” she said, running the nails of her other hand over his sensitive palm, watching how it made his fingers twitch. “Too much wine, too much food, too much...good life...” she said, using Rocco’s phrase.

“So many men like him they go in bad ways. In jail, shot in the street. Your dad died at home...” Then she felt Rocco bristle, he asked, “Were you...with him? ...”

She wiped tears from her cheeks now, nodded. “I was there. It was so fast. He clutched his chest. He was gone...I held his hand...”

“I’m glad, Daniella...I’m glad you were there for him...”

“Me too,” she squeaked. Sniffed then, used her fingers to clear her cheeks again.

“He wanted you to rule?”

She nodded.

“When did this happen?”

“After you left. He gave me businesses to run. They did well. He...groomed...me. He made me stay with him every day. Learn how it's done.”

Rocco didn't answer and she couldn't see his face. Felt a tension from him, felt a resistance to what she was saying. She let his hand go, unlocked her fingers, twisted in his lap, spun her butt around on the squeaky tub floor so she could face him, drawing her knees up to brace the cloth on her breasts, keep herself covered.

“What?” she said, her brow lowering. “You don’t think I can?”

He put his palms up, shrugged his shoulders, said, “It's not that, Daniella...”

“You don't think I can do it because I'm a woman.”

“I don't think you can do it because you're good. This isn't a world of men and women that you want to govern. It's a bloodthirsty cage of animals. Your heart will never pump your kindness into them, they’ll just take it, rip it from your chest with their teeth.”

“So you don't think I can do it?” she said, shrugging off the truth she was afraid she heard in his words.

“You’re not about destruction. You're about birth and life, and you know it. You can curb their killing, but it's always gonna be a pot that wants to boil over. You gonna watch it? You wanna stand at the stove all day long, watch it every second and never take your eyes away? I tell you, take your eyes off one second there’ll be blood all over these streets. It’ll boil over with blood. It's the nature of these men. You won't change it no matter how good you are. You can do so much good. I believe in you. We can do good together. Those men in the syndicate can only be ruled by fear. Fear of their death. The second they ain't afraid they’ll cut your head off. Won't think twice about it.”

“You’ll protect me.”

“If it’s what you want, I will. I’ll stand by your side and chop heads. Anyone you want.”

“I don’t want that.”

“I’d do it. Forever.”

She worked her pouted mouth from side to side, her eyes absently watching the warm waves on the surface of their bathwater. She leaned her shoulder into his chest. “They don’t want me.”

“Who?”

“The rest of them. At the meeting yesterday, you shoulda seen them.”

“Didn’t want you?”

“Showed me no respect. Not like they did when Papa was alive. Didn’t want to hear my ideas. Didn’t want to hear me talking about being in charge of their future.”

“Ah, that’s what they’re like. Not just you. They’re gonna fight whoever tries. Test them. If you wanna lead them you can’t back down. Don’t show weakness.”

“Your horse meds made me look like an idiot.”

“Saved your life,” he laughed.

“What would happen if I didn’t run them?”

“They’ll go to war. Sort it out.”

“War?”

“They’ll battle.”

“People will die.”

“They will.”

“Who could run it for me? Who could step in that they would listen to?”

“Whoever comes in. If it’s you, if it’s whoever...there’s gonna be war—”

“Who would keep it under control?”

“What about your Uncle Tommy?”

“To rule?” she said.

“Yeah, he—”

She waved the idea off with her hand. “He doesn't want it. Heart trouble too, like Dad. Can’t take the stress...”

“One of the others? One of the heads...”

“One that hired you to kill me?” she said with a cocked eyebrow.

“He’ll be dead, Daniella. One of the ones left...”

She felt an uneasiness spread through her. The problems of yesterday confounded by today’s problems. Her future uncertain, her family, her father’s legacy, and now her life. Everything was at stake and while it was fun to sit and have a bath today and play house, she had real problems looming. But... Maybe a few more days in this hidden paradise would be okay. She settled her cheek to his chest now, ran her hand over his shoulder and wiggled until he wrapped his arms around her again.

“I have to do it. I have to continue my dad’s legacy, Rocco. That's what he wanted.”

“You have to take care of yourself, Daniella. He wanted you happy. He wanted you breathing.”

“I have you now,” she said, digging her cheek into him, cupping her ear flat on his chest and listening to the pumping of his powerful heart. “You’ll take care of me. You couldn't have come at a better time, Rocco.”

“Good fortune, Daniella. You got good fortune.”

* * *

And how would he tell her of his own good fortune? Tell her about an ammo can stuffed with treasure. How do you tell somebody that running from the mob and escaping hired killers was only part of the problem you faced right now? At least his news came with the promise of fortune. The words formed on his lips but disappeared somewhere, lost on the path. It was burden and she didn’t need that now.

“Tell me about Silk Road,” she said.

Her words were like a punch in his stomach. They took the wind from him and hearing her voice utter those two words in combination made him flinch. A breath escaped him, coughed out, ill-formed, a tinge of voice in it—something that would have been a word if his brain was working. He had an image come to him. His army duffel, its contents spread out on the dining room floor at the foot of the spot where he’d arranged the mattress and boxspring. The items were sorted and aligned in right angles, an artful collage. He could see Daniella’s hand lining them up, sitting cross-legged with bare feet on the polished maple.

“You were snooping,” he said, the words coming out with more menace than he had intended.

“What? ...No, it’s not like that,” she said, darting away from his chest so she could look in his eye.

He wanted to be mad, wanted to punish her but he wouldn’t. He could see the innocence in her eyes. The anger subsided, diminishing with each heartbeat. He softened. She rested her open palms on his chest.

She said, “I was looking for something to wear. You didn’t think I was naked all day did you?” She smiled for him, drew him closer to her goodness.

“You didn’t have whipped cream on your pussy all day?” he asked, playing along now, feeling warm happy blood pump up the sides of his neck. His hands caressed her under the water, slipping over the curve of her ass and down her thigh, back up again.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her face becoming serious again. “I wasn’t snooping. I don’t want to pry...”

“Hey,” he said, lifting her chin and looking at her. “I want to be honest with you. Silk Road was what I did before I left the military, came back to L.A. It was an Operation name. North Afghanistan, in Badakhshan...we...we raided a Taliban stronghold...”

“You don’t have to tell me,” she said, her hands smoothing over his chest.

“The CIA...well, private contractors, technically—gave these Taliban men gifts. In exchange for two things. Free passage for mineral exploration and opium.”

She was quiet, watching his mouth as he spoke. Listening and nodding. He said, “They gave frequent gifts, kept them fed, kept the palms greased...you know how it works.” She nodded. “Mostly viagra and guns and bullets. But there was a tribal dispute. A shakeup in the clan and the new provincial regime took hostages. Didn’t harm them, but they were high value targets, executives, and...well, the corporations, they...they paid the ransom. I was there. Operating in Badakhshan. My unit got ourselves right up close to the base, watching, waiting. Ready to rescue the hostages if we got the call.” He hesitated here, this was where it got tricky. “Once the ransom was paid the Chief kept his end of the bargain. The hostages were handed over to the military. We were told to stay in position. The military, regular forces took the hostages and then we did get a call...”

“You killed them,” she said. A lifetime with the Nero family did teach her how it worked.

“Yeah,” he said. “We took care of them. Big business, the government, the mob...they all work the same.”

She inhaled, eyes watching her own hands on him as they tickled through his chest hair.

“You got a medal?”

“Ah, I don’t talk about medals you little snoop,” he said and he grabbed her by her arms and kissed her. He didn’t talk about medals and he wouldn’t talk about diamonds and fortunes either. Not til it was real. She laughed around his mouth, her chuckles making brisk flatulent sounds on their wet skin that got them both laughing. He lay her back in the bath, her face peeking out of the hot water. He kissed her and fell in love all over again with the soft slippery feel of her little mouth. She used her hand to stroke him fully hard again. They made love in the bath on all fours like he took her in the kitchen bent over the chair. Went slow and steady this time and concentrated on the feel of her moving back against his body as they worked together. They both came. Joked about never getting to eat her food and got back in the shower to rinse off, fingers turning to prunes now.

They went downstairs and Daniella showed him how sexy she looked in just his flannel shirt. She fried the involtini, served the salad and they drank two bottles of Primitivo. It made him dream of a life like this. A life like he had never known. A life without sharp edges, a life with no danger. One filled with happiness and love and sunshine. He could picture it. Picture it like the tale Daniella had spun that day in the interstate hotel. He’d watched the cracks in the ceiling and had dared to dream. Maybe there were second chances in life. Maybe there were do-overs. They could go away. Try it one more time. Live a life like they were living right now, holed up hiding from killers. Do it for real, out in the open. Somewhere warm, just him and Daniella like right now. Eating and fucking and loving. Maybe they would have a family.

They went to bed and stripped down. They writhed with one another, feeling and kissing and exploring. He got hard again and while he wanted to fuck they both had more fun touching each other all over and sometime after midnight she fell asleep in his arms.