By the time Rocco pulled his motorcycle up in front of her house, Grace was so aroused she was afraid to dismount in case that small amount of pressure made her come right there.
It didn’t make any sense. Rocco had just beaten or possibly killed someone. His clothes were stained with blood. After he dropped her off, he was going to interrogate a man in a warehouse, and she knew exactly what that would entail.
Six years ago, just the thought of violence would have sickened her. But she knew Rocco. Trusted him. He wasn’t a man who enjoyed gratuitous violence like his father, Cesare. He wouldn’t have done what he had done without reason. If she wanted to find Tom and discover who had tried to kill her father and was after her, she would need to learn how to navigate this life instead of running away, and part of that was understanding that their world was not black and white; it was infinite shades of gray.
Watching Rocco kick in the trailer door had been all kinds of hot. The sheer raw, animal power that exuded from him, the intensity of his features, the confidence with which he moved, captivated her in a way nothing else ever had. She had never met a man with such a forceful and commanding presence. Even Nico, who was every inch a Mafia boss, had seemed positively civilized in the face of Rocco’s raw, wild masculinity. On a primal level, he was simply irresistible, and the aura of danger he carried with him only seemed to heighten her desire.
Not to mention the hour-long ride pressed up tight against his back, her hips grinding against his perfect ass, the relentless vibration of the motorcycle rumbling between her thighs.
Gingerly, she slid off his bike, shaking out her hair as she removed her helmet.
Her skin prickled with awareness and when she looked up, she caught his hungry gaze.
Without a word, he cupped the side of her neck and yanked her toward him, kissing her so hard and fierce she almost lost her balance. His arm slid around her waist, holding her firm, and a moan vibrated low in her throat.
“Do you want to come inside?” she asked, when he let her up for air. “Ethan, Olivia, and Miguel are at work. Trevor’s with the dog sitter.”
“Got a job to do for you, cara mia. Gonna get it done. Just waiting for some guards to get here to keep you safe.”
“Couldn’t it wait?” Reaching down, she clasped his hand and placed it on her breast, hoping he could feel the tight bud of her nipple, the swell of arousal. His hand closed over the soft swell, and he kissed her again, plundering her mouth.
“You want me to wait?”
“God, yes.” She arched her back, offered herself to him. His was strung tight, every muscle like corded steel, and the heat coming off him … Lord she wanted to melt against him.
Rocco massaged her breast, rubbing his thumb over her taut nipple. She didn’t care that they were standing on the street making out like a couple of teenagers or that there might be someone nearby wanting to snatch her away. She could feel his need, the energy humming in his body, his shaft thick and hard beneath his fly.
With a groan, he pulled away, his nostrils flaring, his eyes so dark with arousal they were almost black. “I tried for you, Gracie.” He cupped her jaw, stroked his thumb over her cheek. “Today. In the trailer. I tried.”
Her throat tightened and she swallowed hard. Part of accepting him was accepting that violence was part of the Mafia world. And yes, it had taken the person she loved, but it had also given her him.
“I know.”
“I have a code.” His voice caught, and she brought her fingers to his lips.
“Don’t tell me. I know you well enough that I can guess. You’re not Cesare.”
“But I’m not a nice guy either.” His lips quirked at the corners, and he pinched her nipple as if to emphasize the point, and dragged his thumb over the tip. She shuddered, a whimper slipping from her throat. And when his lips grazed her earlobe, sucked the sensitive skin at the base of her neck, she rocked her hips against him, seeking the pressure of his thigh between her legs.
“I can live with that. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m entirely a nice girl.”
“Jesus Christ.” He dismounted the motorcycle, releasing her long enough to set it on its kickstand, before wrapping his arms around her again. “Don’t say things like that. I’m wound up pretty tight.”
She knew exactly what he meant because they had often played rough, but as long as she could feel their connection, she had no hesitation giving him what he needed because he always made sure she enjoyed it, too. Not once had she ever felt unsafe with Rocco, even when they’d taken their encounters past her comfort level.
“Then let me unwind you.” She clasped his hand and led him up the walk. When she reached for the key, he snatched it from her hand and unlocked the door, pushing her into the house.
Before she felt the first rush of cool air, he had kicked the door shut and propelled her backward. Her ass hit the door first, followed by the thick, hard bulge of his erection pressed up against her. And still he kissed her, now fucking her mouth with his tongue, hips grinding, teasing her with a taste of what was still hidden beneath a layer of denim.
“You don’t waste any time, do you?” she murmured.
“Not when it comes to you.” His hands smoothed down her body and under her shirt. Without hesitation, he shoved her bra up and captured her naked breast in his broad, warm palm. She moaned when he pinched her nipple, gasped when he unclipped her bra and tugged it, along with her shirt, over her head, tossing them both on the floor.
“Beautiful.” He leaned down and his mouth, warm and wet, captured her nipple, and he sucked hard while his other hand made short work of the fly on her jeans.
Grace wound her arms around his neck, pulled him closer. She could feel his heat, the bunch of his muscles, the power thrumming beneath his skin, barely restrained. She ached to have him use his full strength on her, to unleash his passion, indulge his darkest desires, the way she wanted to indulge hers.
She had fantasized about him countless times as she drifted off to sleep. She had dreamed of him taking control, surrendering to his most basic instincts to conquer and claim. Although she had tried to deny it, he was a predator, and she wanted to be his prey.
He released her nipple with a pop and drew the other one into his mouth. Without warning, his hand dove into her panties, fingers exploring the curve of her bare ass, the lacy material, the hidden puckered hole of her rear end. She shuddered at the unexpected contact, a mixture of fear and arousal sending a shot of pleasure straight to her core.
Rocco groaned against her breast and dropped to his knees, sliding her jeans and panties over her hips gently at first, and then, as if he couldn’t wait, he yanked them over her feet one at a time until she stood naked before him.
She couldn’t help but drink in the sight of him kneeling at her feet, fully clothed, his eyes intense, face taut with arousal. Her hands slid through his hair, as gentle as he had been violent only moments before, and then over his powerful shoulders, feeling his muscles shift beneath her fingers. She wanted to touch him like this when he was inside her, driving her wild.
“Lift your leg for me, dolcezza. Show me that beautiful cunt.” He hooked her leg over his shoulder, giving her only a second to gain her balance before he plunged his tongue between her thighs, one long warm wet lick that went from her most intimate place through her labia and ended with a flick over her clit.
From out of nowhere, the stirrings of an orgasm caught her in a tide of white-hot heat. Her fingers tightened in his hair and she angled her hips—
“No.” He pulled away, disengaging her fingers.
Grace looked down at him, confused. “No?”
“You don’t come until I say.”
Her cheeks flushed at his candid remark and the fact he had known she was so close to climax.
“I can’t control it. When you do that … with your tongue…”
“Learn.”
That word, his sharp tone of voice, the intensity of his gaze all had her quivering inside, hot and achy. This was better than her fantasies because she had never imagined he would deny her or that she would be able to deny herself. “Learn,” she repeated taking deep breaths as the orgasm receded.
“Now, tell me what you want.” He licked his lips, blew a hot breath on her aching pussy. “I want to hear dirty words coming from that sweet mouth. I want to get hard just listening to your voice.”
“I want to come.” She tightened her grip on his hair and pulled him forward. Dammit. She had been so close, and she wanted to be there again.
“How?” He inched forward, using his broad shoulders to spread her obscenely wide as he parted her folds with his fingers.
“With your mouth.”
“Like this?” He flicked his hot, wet tongue over her labia, circling her entrance until she was rocking her hips trying to get his tongue where she needed it to go.
“My clit.” She panted her breaths, her reticence fleeing before a tidal wave of desire. “Lick my clit.”
“Not dirty enough. This is all you get.” He rolled his finger over her clit, gently at first, and then faster, enough to drive her wild but not enough to send her over the edge.
“Oh God, Rocco.” She panted her breaths. “More. I need more.”
“Tell me.”
“Lick my pussy. Suck me. Fuck me. Make me come.”
“Good girl.” He nipped her clit with his teeth, sucked it into his mouth as he plunged two fingers into her entrance.
She cried out, her nails digging into his scalp, her head banging against the door, as he licked and sucked while his fingers pounded inside her.
“I’m going to—”
He stood, sliding her leg gently off his shoulder. Stunned, still lost to the pleasure of his mouth, she watched as he yanked his shirt over his head and threw it aside.
“I want you to come on my cock,” he said as he shoved his clothing over his hips. “I want to feel that hot, wet pussy. I want to hear my name on your lips.”
Her gaze dropped down to the piercing glistening at the end of his cock, and her mouth watered remembering just how it felt rubbing against her sensitive inner walls.
He pulled a condom from his pocket and sheathed himself, rolling it slowly over his hardened length. He was inside her before she could speak, stretching her, filling her, the cold steel of his piercing a delicious burn. With one hand, he drew her leg up and around his hip, fingers digging into her ass, while the other tangled in her hair drawing her head back to bare her throat to the heated slide of his lips.
She cried out as he thrust into her, clung to his shoulders, begged with all the dirty words she had never dared say for him to give her the release he had been holding out of reach.
Rocco growled into her throat and devoured her with hungry kisses and hard sucks on her skin that she knew would leave bruises. But she didn’t care. She wanted to remember this. She wanted to feel the burn and remember all his wildness.
“So fucking sexy.” One hand slipped between them and he circled his finger around her clit, rubbing over the tight nub in time to his long, deep thrusts.
“Now, cara mia. Come with me.” He sealed his mouth over hers and she came with a deep, guttural groan, his name tearing from her throat as he continued to pump inside her. And then his cock thickened and the sound of his release, low and primal, send another climax shivering through her.
For the longest time, they held each other, arms intertwined, hearts thudding together. Grace closed her eyes and thought back to the nights she had fallen asleep warm and safe in Rocco’s bed with his body curled around hers listening to the sound of his voice as he whispered beautiful things in her ear.
“I like the bossiness when we’re having sexy times,” she said softly, looking up to trace the outline of his jaw with her finger. “It turns me on. But the bossiness outside the bedroom … not so much.”
He caught her finger, drew it to his lips. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time I want to watch you come.”
“When would that be?”
“After I find out what our Albanian friend has to say about Tom.” He kissed her finger and pulled away, leaving her bereft. While he disposed of the condom, she pulled on her clothes, their sweet moment destroyed by her guilt over what she was sending him to do. Once he walked out the door, there would be no going back. Whatever happened to the man in the warehouse would be on her shoulders, even if she wasn’t there to throw the first punch.
“What if he doesn’t talk?” she asked when he returned.
“He will.” Rocco cupped her jaw in his hand and tipped her face up to his. “I promise he will walk away when I’m done, or if he can’t walk, he’ll still be breathing.”
Grace let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you for understanding.”
“Pleasure.”
“I want to come with you if you get a lead.”
Rocco snorted. “Not in a million years.”
“He’s my brother.”
“And he’s in some deep shit right now, and I don’t want you involved. Either he’s hiding and won’t be happy to have both of us show up on his doorstep, or he’s been kidnapped, in which case you would be a liability. This is business, cara mia, and women don’t get involved.”
“Someone wanted to kill my dad and brother and kidnap me,” she said, bristling. “That makes me involved. And I’m not going to sit around playing victim when I could be doing something. I’m not stupid. I’m not planning to take unnecessary risks, but we have a lead because I had the idea to trace Tom’s phone. So don’t just dismiss me as a ‘liability.’”
His mouth opened and closed as if he were going to say something and thought better of it. “Fair enough.”
She heard footsteps on the porch and pushed Rocco toward the living room, hoping to hide any signs of their illicit activity. “Look casual.”
Rocco snorted a laugh and sat on the couch, putting his feet up on the table just as Ethan and Olivia walked in the door.
“Grace! What’s going on? Who are all the guys outside?” Ethan spotted Rocco on the couch and took a step back. “Whoa. Dude. You gonna break down the door again?”
“It’s okay,” Grace said. “He’s under control. We’re … um … together.”
Ethan’s face fell. “Together together?”
Creak. She didn’t need to look over to know Rocco was off the creaky sofa and was on the prowl. Moments later she felt his heavy possessive arm on her shoulders. And although he didn’t speak, the message was clear.
Mine.
“Yeah.” She glanced up. Rocco’s expression hadn’t changed. But was that the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips? One less crease in his perpetual scowl? “Sorry, Ethan. I should have told you earlier but…”
“Hey. It’s okay.” Ethan shrugged. “If it was going to work out between us, it would have worked out long ago. Just glad you found someone who makes you happy, even if he does like to break down doors.”
Rocco gave a satisfied grunt and shook Ethan’s offered hand. “Gonna have some security at your place for a bit, but you just carry on as usual.”
“Security for what?” Ethan glanced over at the guard standing near the window. “Is Grace in danger?”
“Classified.”
“Classified?” Ethan’s brow creased. “If she’s in danger, I need to know. Are you in the secret service? FBI? CIA? Undercover police? Military?”
“Something like that.”
Ethan folded his arms across his chest, and for the first time she realized he had an alpha side. “Something like that isn’t an answer.”
“The guys who put my dad in the hospital are still out there, and Rocco’s worried they might come after me,” Grace said by way of explanation. “I’m going to stay with him for a bit, but when I’m home I guess his guards will be here with me. It’s just a precaution.”
“Which one can I have?” Olivia murmured, half to herself. “I prefer blondes but I could make do with either of the guys on the porch.”
“Can you still go out?” Ethan looked from Grace to Rocco and back to Grace. “Our last gig was a disaster. Sunita was totally wrecked. Her voice was gone from all the smoking and she had no idea what was happening on stage. After two songs, I pulled her off and we just went instrumental until the end. I apologized to the manager and told him he didn’t have to pay us, and this morning I kicked her out of the band. Now I have no vocalist and we have the Stardust gig booked for tonight.”
Rocco gave a curious grunt of irritation, and Grace looked up at him and frowned.
“Anything you wanted to say?”
“No.”
“Could you help us out?” Ethan begged. “Just for one night. I’ve been auditioning vocalists, but I haven’t found anyone yet.”
“I can’t, Ethan.” Her hand went to her cheek and she realized she rarely thought about her scar anymore. But that didn’t mean it was gone. “I’ll be there to support you, but I just can’t go on stage.”
* * *
Rocco washed the lingering traces of blood from his hands in the men’s restroom at the Stardust, listening to Danny introduce the band. He knew all the musicians now after meeting them last night. Grace had convinced him to stick around for dinner when the other members of the band showed up. Although he didn’t have much to say, he’d enjoyed chilling out with them, listening to their stories about gigs gone bad, having a few drinks and playing with the dog with Grace curled up beside him on the couch.
He’d stayed the night with her, indulging himself in her deliciously naked body until they’d fallen into an exhausted sleep. It had almost been normal, at least until dawn, when he’d had to leave her in the care of the guards and go out to the warehouse to spend the day torturing information out of an Albanian hit man who didn’t want to talk.
In the end, however, the bastard had talked. They always talked. No one left a De Lucchi interrogation without spilling his guts—in every sense of the word.
Fuck. He hadn’t meant to kill the guy. He had tried his very best to fulfill his promise. He really had. But what the fuck was he supposed to do when Mike and Paolo had forgotten to search the bastard before they tied him up and he’d jumped Rocco with a knife in the middle of questioning?
Lesson learned. He couldn’t make that promise again because if he hadn’t been so focused on trying not to kill the bastard once the torture got underway, he would have seen the subtle movements of the Albanian’s arms that would have alerted him to the fact the dude had a knife down the back of his jeans.
Death was inevitable once the guy rushed him. Although he hated what he had become, he was a member of the De Lucchi crew, and the insult could be addressed in only one way.
By the time the clean-up crew arrived and he’d dumped the body in Lake Mead, it was too late to go back to Grace’s house and he’d sent her a message—after finally exchanging numbers—that he’d meet her at the club.
He wasn’t looking forward to giving her the bad news that Tony had hired the Albanians to find Tom, or that Tony had given them Tom’s phone, because it meant that Tony or his guys were likely responsible for the Carvello shooting. The only people who had the power to give permission to whack the New York underboss were the don and his consigliere. But the consigliere had already given the contract to Cesare who had given it to Rocco, which meant the only person who could have ordered Tony to whack Nunzio and Tom was the don himself. But it didn’t make sense. If he wanted them out of the way, why wait until they were in Vegas? Why go through Tony? And what did he want with Grace?
Rocco checked his hands under the restroom light. Blood had a nasty way of getting under his nails and he didn’t want to touch Grace with blood-stained hands.
When his hands were finally clean, he left the restroom and walked down the hallway. Stormy Blu had just started their set, and the first few bars of Sinatra’s “Strangers in the Night” drifted down the hall, bringing back memories of Grace and the first time they met. But when the vocalist sang the first line, he froze.
Christ. He’d never heard anything so bad. The dude sounded like he was being tortured, and Rocco knew all variations on that theme. His teeth clenched at the butchered sound.
“Go.” A woman’s voice echoed down the hallway. “You have to get out there. He’s going to destroy the band’s reputation. They’ll never get another gig in the city.”
“I can’t go on stage.”
His heart skipped a beat. Grace. And that had to be Olivia with her.
“It’s like someone’s pouring shattered glass in my ears,” Olivia said. “Please. Put him out of his misery. No, put the audience out of their misery. Any moment now, there’s going to be a stampede out the door. You know the songs. You rehearsed with them when Sunita couldn’t make it. You have a beautiful voice. It’s just this one time. Think how desperate Ethan must be to sing on stage. I know he’s auditioning vocalists this weekend. I’m sure he’ll find someone.”
“Why didn’t he just go instrumental?”
“Apparently the manager wasn’t happy with that suggestion. It was sing or lose the gig, and he didn’t want to let the guy down.”
Rocco heard Grace curse. “It’s been six years since I sang in public. And last time I didn’t have the scar. They’re just going stare at my face.”
Pain spiked through his body at the thought that his beautiful Gracie was too ashamed to sing. And it was because of him, because he’d wanted her too much, because he’d been too selfish to let her go until it was too goddamn late.
“I bought this, just in case,” Olivia said.
He heard the rustle of a bag and then, “What is it?”
“A mask of sorts. Half a mask. Really it’s just a little lace and crochet work with some beads, but on the model it looked very sexy and mysterious. It doesn’t really hide much, but I thought it might be enough to give you a small measure of comfort.”
The tinny sound of feedback echoed down the hallway, and Rocco cringed. Fuck. Even though he hadn’t signed the papers, he felt no small measure of responsibility for the club. Ethan was going to destroy the Stardust’s reputation as well as that of the band. And what if Rocco did take over the club one day? Damned if he would own a club that was known for hiring bad bands. If this didn’t end soon he would get Danny to put an end to the travesty.
“What do you think?”
Rocco walked down the hallway and pushed on the partially open door. Grace stood in front of a mirror in what he assumed was the band’s backstage space. She wore a loose, flowery dress that was way too short for his liking, and a pair of cowboy boots that made her long, toned legs seem even longer. The delicate mask, all soft woven string and lace hid none of her beauty and instead made her look sultry and mysterious and sexy as fuck.
“I like it.” Grace’s eyes widened as she caught sight of Rocco in the mirror, and she gasped.
“What are you doing here?”
“Just got off work.”
Her eyes widened, and her mouth formed an oh of surprise. But it was “work.” Although this time he wasn’t getting paid.
“Sing,” he said. “You’ve got a beautiful voice. You should share it. You make people feel…” He thumped his chest. “In here.”
Grace stared at him, her gaze burning a path to his soul. “I don’t know…”
“I won’t let anything happen to you up there,” he promised, knowing this was a promise he could keep. “Anything goes wrong, you feel uncomfortable, anyone even looks at you the wrong way, I’ll end it.”
“You’ll end it?” Olivia snorted. “How? You’ll rush the stage?”
“I own the club.” The words fell from his lips before he could stop them, but he could make it a truth with the wave of a pen.
Grace frowned. “You own Stardust?”
“Almost. All the paperwork is done. Just gotta sign on the dotted line. You go up there tonight, and I’ll sign.”
Her face softened. “I didn’t think you could…” She trailed off, her gaze flicking to Olivia and then back to him. “That’s kind of cool.”
“That mean you’ll sing?”
She drew in a shuddering breath. “You’ll be here?”
“I’ll be right here, Gracie. Just like I used to be. I never missed one of your performances and I’m not gonna start now.”
She looked from him to Olivia and back to him. “Okay, since it’s your club, and it’s just this once. And I’ll wear the mask.”
After Olivia helped her tie on the mask, and Rocco gave her a kiss for luck, she walked out to the stage.
Rocco thought he’d almost burst from pride as they followed her. “She’s singing,” he said to Olivia as if she hadn’t just been standing there when Grace agreed to sing.
Olivia looked up at him and glared. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say. I don’t know what you did to her in the past, and it seems she’s forgiven you, but I’m still watching. And I’m telling you right now that if you put that scar on her face there is nothing I won’t do to keep her away from you.”
He pressed his lips together, feeling no need for a response. Although he hadn’t wielded the blade, he was responsible for everything that had happened that night at Newton Creek.
“I’ve lived in Vegas all my life,” Olivia whispered, slowing her steps as Grace walked onto the stage. “I have connections. I know people. Scary people.”
His gaze sliced to her, and he gave her a glimpse of what lay just beneath the surface of his otherwise expressionless face.
Olivia paled, but didn’t back down. “Maybe not quite as scary as you, but you get my point.”
“Yeah.” His lips quivered at the corners. He wasn’t afraid of any man or woman. But she was a protector, and he liked that Grace had her for a friend.
Grace joined Ethan at the front of the stage, and relief flickered across Ethan’s face. He stepped back to give her the floor and picked up his guitar. Grace easily segued into the song, and Sinatra’s “Something Stupid” became something beautiful.
Just like her.
She was the epitome of everything Rocco wanted but could never have. She was all the goodness in the world, and listening to her exquisite voice ripped something loose in his heart.
He didn’t move while she was on stage, but he did make a decision, and when the band was done and he was waiting in the back hallway to see her, he was ready when his phone rang with the call he had known would come.
“Cesare.”
“What the fuck is going on out there?” Cesare’s voice rose to a shout. “It was a simple fucking job. Whack Mantini and his son. Now I hear Mantini is still alive. What went wrong?”
“Someone else got there before me. Mantini must have a lot of enemies. Five guys in masks. Busy restaurant. Whoever it was had balls. The son escaped. Mantini’s in the hospital and Nico’s put a guard on him. Nothing I can do until he’s out.”
“What about the girl?”
Rocco’s heart skidded to a stop. “The contract didn’t include her.”
“You’ve been seen with her. What the fuck?” Cesare’s voice turned to ice. “I thought I made it clear that relationship was over. If this is about you not keeping your dick in your fucking pants—”
“Don’t go there,” he warned, a growl rising in his throat as he dared to disrespect the man who owned his soul.
“If I have to come out there and teach that lesson again,” Cesare continued, as if Rocco hadn’t spoken, “it won’t be just that bitch’s face I cut up. And it won’t just be me getting a taste of the pussy that’s so sweet it’s worth your fucking life. I’m going to give her to the crew if there’s anything left of her when I’m done. And this time I won’t let her run away.”
Rocco’s protective instincts surged to the fore and his hand tightened around the phone as he tried to breathe through the tidal wave of anger that had turned his vision red. “Save the fucking threats for your trainees. I’m done with all this shit.”
“This ‘shit’ is your family,” Cesare snarled. “And you are never done with this family until you’re dead. You fuck up again, and you’ll pay the fucking price. And if you thought I made you scream when you were a boy, that’s nothing compared to what I will do to you now. I know you, Rocco, like no one else does. I broke you down until I saw inside your soul. I know what truly scares you. I can make you suffer in ways you never imagined. I can make you beg me for a death that will never come. I won’t just destroy your body, I will destroy the essence of who you fucking are.”
Until Grace had walked back into his life, Rocco hadn’t cared if he lived or died. But now that he’d had a taste of the life he could have led if Cesare hadn’t plucked him from the orphanage, he wanted more—more Grace in his arms and in his bed, more feeling like part of Nico’s crew, more being part of the world instead of other.
He wanted out. Not just to ensure Grace’s safety, but for himself. Fuck Cesare. Fuck the De Lucchi crew. Fuck the Mafia. Fuck the rules. After they were done here, he could call Nico and tell him to put more guards on Mantini. If he found Tom, he would hide him. And then he would go to New York and realize the fantasy he’d had since he was ten years old. For the first time, he had not only the skills and power to make Cesare pay for what he’s done, but the will. He would have his freedom, and he would have his revenge. And then he would take back his life, just as tonight, his beautiful, brave Grace had taken back her voice.
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Cesare to fuck the hell off, hang up the phone, and deal with the consequence. But he’d been too long in the life to make a rash decision that would end in certain death. He wanted to live. And to do that, he would have to play a careful game.
“You’re getting melodramatic in your old age,” he snapped. “I need some time. Nico Toscani is all over this shit. Mantini is untouchable in the hospital.”
“You aren’t my only soldier out there,” Cesare said. “Even if you fail me, the job will get done, and if not by you, then expect to pay the price of failure.”
Rocco ended the call, his blood pounding in his ears. Who the hell was Cesare talking about? He knew everyone in the De Lucchi crew, even the soldiers who had been sent out to other factions. There was no else in Vegas or in Nevada for that matter. Could Cesare be bluffing? Truth meant nothing to him. And his son, apparently, meant even less.
Adoptive son. One day he would trace his family and find out who he really was.
“Rocco!” Grace came running down the hallway. “I did it. I sang on stage!”
“Yeah, you did, cara mia.” He caught her on the run, swung her up into his arms. “You were magnificent. You have the voice of an angel.”
“Can you believe it? A few weeks ago, I would never have imagined I’d be singing on stage.” She wrapped her arms and hugged him tight. “Or that I’d have pulled a gun on someone or asked you to do what you do to help me find Tom. Or that I’d be with you again. There’s no going back, Rocco. I’m a whole new me.”
His heart felt like it was going to bust right out of his chest. It wasn’t just her. A few weeks ago, he would never have imagined disobeying an order, lying to Cesare, owning a fucking business, or sitting in a meeting with Nico’s crew as if he were one of the guys. And he couldn’t have imagined being part of Grace’s life again, holding her in his arms, letting her into his heart. She was right. There was no going back. But nothing had ever scared him as much as the road ahead and the impossible dream that might not be impossible after all.